Suzanne Robinson Read Online Free PDF Page A

surface, not to dive deep and be swept into an undersea current. Yet this revenge against Ophelia was leaving him feeling soiled and disgusted with himself. He couldn’t seem to stop, though. He needed to escape the hurt, and anger burned it away.
    “Alexis.”
    Something in her voice, a change in timbre, a faltering, caused him to glance up from buttoning his trousers. She had straightened her clothing. She rose and put her hand on his cheek.
    “What’s wrong? Alexis, you are so beautiful.”
    “Thank you.” He turned away, not wanting to hear, but she pursued him.
    “How chivalrous you are to wait for me.”
    He picked up his coat, then drew back the curtains. Ophelia hastened to finish buttoning her collar. She came to him as he fastened his coat.
    “How long shall we wait?” she asked.
    “Wait for what?” He brushed the hair back from his brow.
    “To make the announcement of our betrothal.”
    He lifted his eyes to hers. His brows shot up. “Ophelia, my dear, you said you knew what I wanted, and then you gave it to me. Part of it, that is.”
    The air shot out of the girl’s lungs. She stepped back and opened her mouth to scream. He fastened a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him.
    “If you bring them down on me, I’ll call a physician to examine you for proof of virginity.”
    “Oooooh!”
    He released her, smiling at her ladylike outrage.
    “I could kill you.”
    “If I’m dead you can’t marry my title.”
    To his surprise, Ophelia’s fury disappeared. If a face could become an accounting ledger, hers did in the second before her self-control reasserted itself.
    Mountain goat to the bone. Alexis’s shoulders drooped. It served him right for being such a bloody fool.
    Ophelia began to indulge in tears. He wanted to slap her, but even now he couldn’t bring himself to do violence to a woman. So he stopped the tears by pressing his mouth against her neck. The sadness always went away for a while if he took physical solace, so he sucked at the base of her throat while his thumb rubbed over the material that covered her nipple. As desire built, hurt faded enough so that he could almost ignore it. He spoke with his mouth grazing her skin.
    “We mistook one another. That doesn’t mean we can’t make the best of what’s passed between us.”
    “But you have to marry me.”
    “Hush.” He nipped at her lower lip. “You’ll learn not to try to force me, and then we’ll get along much better.”
    He kissed her once. As he walked to the door, she remained standing in the middle of the room smiling at him in a self-satisfied way that he knew meant she hadn’t given up. He left her to think of ways to subdue him. He was used to women who spent most of their time away from him doing just that. One more would make no difference.
    It was time for Kate to dress for the ball. Ophelia’s latest Improving Work was transforming Kate Grey into a belle,so it was Ophelia’s fault that dressing had become a tactical nightmare that lasted for hours. Kate was at the mercy of two maids because of this terrible ball, and her cousin was turning out to be a benevolent bully. Ophelia sat in a chair in her dressing gown and personally directed the transformation.
    Underthings. They weren’t so bad. Then came the corset. A skirmish over how tight to lace it. Kate won. Next, the camisole and the hated stiff petticoat. Then another petticoat. And another, and another, and another, and one more. Finally the dress. It was hefted overhead by means of long rods and dropped like a net over an insect. When it was in place, the buttoning started.
    At last Kate was able to turn and look at herself in the mirror. The gown was white, all lace and pearls. If she hadn’t been so squashed and loaded down, she would have gasped. Even with her hair mussed, she looked so different, not herself at all. Kate looked down at her breasts. If these low-cut gowns were the fashion for balls, she was lucky her waist was so