Surrender Becomes Her Read Online Free PDF Page A

her—immediately!”
    “Well, it was the only fair thing to do; after all, she did discover him first.”
    “I know that, Mother,” he said dryly. “I would have suggested she buy him from me myself once she settled into Manning Court, if she’d given me a chance to do so.”
    Something suspiciously like a giggle escaped Mrs. Sherbrook. “If you could have seen your face when she found out you owned him and stormed in here accusing you of stealing him while her back was turned.”
    Marcus grinned. “She was in rare form, wasn’t she? I had to feel the top of my head afterward to make certain I still had hair and that I hadn’t been scorched bald.”
    Selecting a pale green thread, his mother rethreaded her needle. “What did she say when you told her about Tempest, ah, sporting with your mares?”
    His lips thinned. “She was not a bit sorry or contrite! Looking down her nose at me, she very graciously told me that if any of the mares turned up in foal that she’d be happy to either buy any mare that became pregnant from Tempest’s, ah, visit or the foal when it was weaned—whichever I preferred.”
    “And you told her?”
    He sent his mother a look and this time she did giggle.“Oh, Marcus! If you only knew how happy I am to know that something can shake the stuffiness from you.”
    “Stuffy!” he exclaimed, ruffled. “Why is it that just because I don’t flaunt a different opera dancer on my arm every week, habitually drink myself under the table, gamble my fortune away, or spur my horse up the steps of the chapel, that everyone thinks that I am a dull fellow? Is there something wrong with preferring a calm, well-ordered life? Or something deviant to liking peace and tranquillity and seeking not to have one’s life constantly in an uproar?”
    He looked so mystified that Mrs. Sherbrook shook her head in despair. Her tall, handsome son was nearly forty years old, and even she thought it unnatural that he had never caused her a moment’s despair. There had been no wild scrapes or daring romps even when he had been a young man. He had been ever affectionate, courteous, and dutiful and could be depended upon to do the right thing and keep a calm head in the midst of crisis, for which she was devotedly thankful…most of the time. He was a son to be proud of, and she was. Very. The problem was that she rather thought that he should have, at least once in his life, thrown caution to the wind and plunged into some sort of scandalous escapade. Not so very scandalous, she reminded herself cautiously, just enough to add a little excitement to his life and shake him from the staid, stolid path he seemed destined to follow. When he continued to stare at her with that same mystified expression, she admitted, “No, there is nothing wrong with wanting the familiar. And I am truly blessed that you have never caused me to hide my face in shame. Quite the contrary, I have always been very proud of you, but Marcus, you are not in your dotage. Yet you have always behaved and acted like someone twice your age.” Almost wistfully she asked, “Have you never wanted to escape from the humdrum of country life? Ever longed for adventure or felt a need to kick over the traces and leave behind the common, the routine?”
    “Are you saying you want me to be a libertine?” he demanded incredulously. “Shall I set the neighborhood gossiping by risking life and limb by racing my curricle against the mail coach and fill the house with rakes and gamesters and squealing bits of muslin while you hide yourself away upstairs to avoid being accosted in your own home? A fine fellow I should look!”
    “No! Oh, no,” cried Mrs. Sherbrook, horrified by the image he conjured up. “Of course not,” she said more calmly a second longer. “It is merely that you have always been such a good son—I could not ask for one better—but your father’s death when you were so young and the responsibilities it placed on you…”
    “I was