My Only Love Read Online Free PDF

. . . !"
    "Yer such a lovely little thing—so full of
fire and promise. Any man would be proud to have ya..." Bertrice turned
Olivia back toward the dresser, and her fingers began to pluck the pins from
Olivia's hair. Deftly, she brushed out the dark brown strands so they shone
like mink in the lantern light. "Never did care for yer sister's yellow
hair. Looked like hay, if ya ask me."
    "Miles told Emily that her hair was like
silk sunlight."
    "Ya
took after yer father's side of the family, in looks and temperament."
    "I overheard them once. I once feared she
would marry him. I couldn't imagine having Miles Kemball as a brother-in-law...
I used to imagine that one day he would notice me and forget all about her. He
didn't, of course . .."
    "I told yer mother just last week that
she'd someday come to regret how they ruined the lass with all their primpin'
and fussin' over every little thing she does."
    "The Marquess of Clanricarde is going to
ask for her hand just any day," Olivia said, taking the brush from
Bertrice's hand and placing it aside. She gathered the pins into a tidy pile,
then began retying her hair at the nape of her neck.
    The old nanny stooped so her round face was next
to Olivia's in the mirror. "Why don't ya leave yer hair down, lass? It's
ever so pretty curling down yer back, and makes ya look so much younger."
    Jabbing the pins into her hair so tightly it
tugged at her temples, Olivia focused on her own reflection and tried to
disregard the disappointment in Bertrice's eyes. "Get me my coat,"
she ordered. "I'm going out."
     
    By the time Miles reached his brother's house, a
film of ice had settled upon his hair and face and shoulders. His fingers were
stiff and he could no longer feel his toes.
    The butler answered the door only after
persistent pounding on Miles's part. Bright light and incredibly warm air
spilled over the threshold as Stanley, upon recognizing Miles, placed himself
as steadfast as a sentinel in the doorway.
    "His Lordship," the butler announced,
"is occupied with guests."
    Hearing the guests' laughter, Miles stepped
toward the door. The startled old butler quickly moved aside. The sudden rush of
heat made Miles gasp for breath; his ears turned into what felt like white-hot
flames. By the time he reached the dining hall water had started to drip from
his tangled mass of dark, curly hair.
              Upon
Miles's unexpected entrance, Damien Warwick looked up from his chair at the end
of the table. Indeed, the entirety of the room's visitants pinned Miles with
incredulous stares.
              "Hi
ho!" cried Frederick Millhouse. "Everyone hide his valuables!"
              "By
Jove," added Claurence Newton, "and who said the devil resided in
hell?"
              A
burst of laughter erupted from the half-dozen other guests. Bonnie, Damien's
very pregnant wife, leapt from her chair next to Damien's, as if she were about
to rush to Miles, but Damien stopped her with a firm hand about her wrist.
              "Sit
down," he told her firmly, and though her face turned a shocking pink with
indignation, she did so.
              A
moment passed before the room fell into complete silence, every inquisitive
stare fixed on Miles, whose gaze was locked on his brother.
              "You're
interrupting our meal," Damien told him, his voice coldly polite.
              "I
suppose my invitation was lost in the post," Miles returned, as chillingly
polite.
              Damien
sat back in his chair. "What do you want, Miles?"
              "What
do you think I want?"
              "A
fight, by the looks of you."
              "Hey
ho!" Frederick cried. "My money's on Kemball!"
              A
wave of nervous laughter again rippled through the room, then silence once
more.
              "I
was summoned to Devonswick today," Miles stated, his gaze going briefly
to Bonnie's face. Her eyes were wide, their expression