Minor Indiscretions Read Online Free PDF

the window and seeing his expensive equipage. Then there were his clothes, and the deference of Mr. Barstow.
    "Have you never heard of punting on tick, little one? No, I can see from your face you haven't. No matter, I am well enough to pass that I need not hire myself out for a sparring partner. And no, I am not so noble a character to sacrifice myself to save Mr. Barstow's inn from an ugly melee. It was the challenge of the thing. The locals were boasting that Irish Red had gone fainthearted, and no one could best Albert. I took the dare."
    "You did this for a
dare
?" She rubbed more vigorously; the viscount clenched his teeth. "Of all the irresponsible, reckless, cork-brained notions. Isn't that just like a man."
    "How much could you know about men, from your great age? What are you anyway, eighteen, nineteen?"
    Melody chose not to answer that. "I know that my father was just such a one, gambling on duck races, taking every madcap challenge, thinking no farther than the excitement of the moment! Why, you could have been killed!"
    "So little faith, my angel. But I did weigh my chances, you know. After all, there is science involved. Albert is the product of barroom brawls, while I have studied with Gentleman Jackson. Albert had strength, I knew, but I had speed. He may have the brawn, but I have the brains."
    "And the conceit! I should have thought the brains of a flea would tell you not to get in the ring with a man twice your size. Just look at you!"
    "Ah, but you haven't seen Albert."
    "You mean you won?"
    Her look of incredulity struck a blow to his pride, possibly the only part of the viscount not yet injured. Then she smiled, with dimples and sparkling eyes, and it was almost worth it, even the aching ribs. Gads, what a little beauty! Young and unsophisticated, she was unaware of her effect on a man, if Corey knew women at all—and he knew women as well as he knew the art of boxing. She wasn't in his line, of course. Unless a man was on the Marriage Mart, schoolroom misses, debutantes, and such were like playing with fire. Corey much preferred to dally with women who already smoldered. But if, say, a man was thirty-five or so—the viscount was only twenty-eight—and he was looking to get legshackled, a fellow could do a lot worse.
    As it was, sea-green eyes, adorable dimples, and petal-soft skin were exactly why chaperones were created. Which reminded him that his angel's was not doing a very good job of it. "I'll, ah, take over from here," he said, chivalrously relieving her of the towel, and himself of dangerous thoughts as she wiped at the red streaks lower down his chest.
    "I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but isn't your companion being a trifle lax?"
    "Nanny's nerves were overset so she took a sleeping draught, thank goodness. I mean, she needs her rest. There was a mishap with the carriage, and we had to walk a considerable distance this morning."
    "Never tell me you are the Incognita in the ancient coach the fellows were snickering about before? They were calling you the Damsel, the Dragon, and Dobbin. That was you?" He laughed out loud, then clutched his side. "Dash it, I shouldn't have laughed."
    Melody's chin was raised. Her tone was grim, "No, sir, you shouldn't have."
    "Now you are angry. I'm truly sorry, Angel, really I am. Tell me what I can do to make things right."
    How could she not forgive a silver-tongued devil with a ready smile and a black eye? She tugged his shirt around him better. "So you won't take a chill. And thank you, but unless you can play Cinderella's fairy godmother, wave your wand, and get my carriage fixed in a hurry, I don't think there is much you can do for me."
    He laughed again, but much more cautiously. "I'm afraid I'll stay in your black books then, my dear, for your carriage won't be repaired anytime soon. Albert is the blacksmith!"
Chapter Five
    « ^ »
     
    The doctor came. Melody vanished into the bedroom.
    It was a good thing Nanny had a heavy hand with the