Seduced by a Pirate Read Online Free PDF Page A

throbbing.
    What if he rejected her children?
    She would leave him, of course. Thanks to her father’s careful stewardship, the estate was thriving, her jointure along with it. She could more than afford to scoop up the children and buy a house. Her mind reeled. What was she thinking?
    This was her house. If he rejected the children, she would order him to leave.
    She paused at the top of the hill to allow her breathing to return to normal before she walked through the courtyard and into the house. She was making too much of it. After all, she remembered Griffin clearly. He had been thin, small, and rather shy. Even in the scant light of just two candles, she remembered how red his face had turned.
    Men didn’t change. Everyone knew that. She merely had to be polite but firm. He would leave again. A criminal would not be allowed to stay in the British Isles, no matter how powerful his father.
    Thankfully, the resulting scandal would have no effect on her life. The thought was steadying. There was a time, just after her marriage, when her father-in-law had urged her to become part of his circle. Humiliated by her husband’s desertion, she had declined.
    Now, years later, she was deeply grateful not to be involved in the petty meanness that engaged so-called “polite society.”
    She shook out her skirts, took a final deep breath, and moved toward the house. Halfway through the courtyard something made her stop. She pivoted on her heel.
    They were seated under the tree. Two of them.
    Pirates .
    One of them wore an earring, and both had strange designs on their faces. They were huge, just as Colin had claimed. Big, muscled men who sprawled in her chairs like . . . like nothing she’d seen before. One of them rose at the sight of her. He was immense, his shoulders broad as an ox, and his face bronzed. He looked at her with unnervingly steady eyes as she walked closer; something about his gaze sent an errant wave of heat up into her cheeks.
    But at the same time, she realized, with a sense of relief that made her feel positively dizzy, that neither man was her husband. Neither resembled him in the least. It stood to reason that Griffin would have grown a bit more, since he was only seventeen when he bolted, but he would still have brown hair and a wiry build. These men must be his emissaries.
    “Gentlemen,” she said, summoning a smile as she came to a halt before them. “I am so sorry that no one was here to greet you. I expect that you are acquaintances of my husband, Sir Griffin Barry.”
    They were both on their feet now, but a moment of silence ensued while they stared at her. Despite herself, her smile slipped. They were so large, and in appearance so non-English. Perhaps they didn’t speak the language?
    “ Bonjour, ” she said tentatively, silently cursing the fact that she had always been too bored to pay attention during French lessons.
    “Poppy?” the big one asked. He had dark blond hair, cut very short, and skin the color of honey. Not to mention the decoration under his eye. He was terrifying.
    Poppy? She didn’t quite know what to make of that. “I’m afraid we haven’t any poppies here, but that can’t be what you mean?” She tried to look at him again, but her eyes skittered away.
    He was so male . She wasn’t used to being near people like him. In fact, she couldn’t think of a single Englishman, other than the blacksmith, who had that air of fierce masculinity.
    They continued to stare at her silently. It was really quite irritating. Then Phoebe noticed that the man who had spoken was wearing a coat that was far too elegant for a mere servant.
    She folded her hands in front of her and summoned the patience she’d developed raising three small children. “Gentlemen? Do you work for my husband, Sir Griffin Barry?”
    The blond man cleared his throat. “We are—we do know your husband.” He shifted his weight, and she saw he was leaning on a cane. It was hard to reconcile this infirmity