The Original Miss Honeyford Read Online Free PDF

Honey.
    “Very.”
    “Oh.” Honey scowled ferociously into her now empty brandy glass. She wondered what it would be like to be very rich, and, at the same time, it hit her with force that her father was relying on her to bring home a husband, that they were desperately in need of money. She did hope all the marriageable gentlemen were not like this lazy lord. But there would no doubt be some military gentlemen like Captain Jocelyn. Her face brightened.
    Lord Alistair watched the changing moods on her expressive face with some amusement. He had never before in his life met any female, old or young, who was so little impressed by him. For the moment, he found the novelty refreshing, although he was sure that any extended period of time in this farouche child’s company would bore him to tears.
    “Are you not nervous at venturing so far alone?” he asked.
    “I am not alone,” said Honey. “As I have already pointed out, I have a coachman and two grooms.”
    “A young lady should not be left in a posting inn to her own devices—particularly a young lady who drinks brandy like water. There are some dangers on the road that even the best of servants would be at a loss to handle.”
    “Pooh, I am equal to anything.”
    “Anything?”
    “Give me an example?”
    He leaned back in his chair and smiled at her, a wicked, seductive smile. “Imagine if I decided to subject you to an excess of civility. You could, of course, scream, but who are the servants going to believe? You or me?”
    “You, my lord.”
    He rose from his chair, looming large in the candlelight, his shadow running up to the rafters of the room. “So if I were to approach you—”
    He broke off, and sat down abruptly. While he had been getting to his feet, Honey had been searching in her bulging reticule. He found himself looking at a neat pistol held steadily in one small hand.
    “It would be silly to even ask you if you know how to use that,” he said.
    “Very silly,” replied Honey, outwardly calm and inwardly shaken by that threatening wave of masculine sensuality which had emanated from him as he had stood up.
    “And it is loaded?”
    “Of course.”
    “What an extraordinary girl you are. I am sure you will set London by the ears.”
    Honey tucked the pistol away in her reticule and rose to her feet. “I bid you good night, my lord,” she said. “I make an early start in the morning.”
    He rose to his feet again and made her a low bow. “I wish you every success during the Season, Miss Honeyford,” he said. “Try not to frighten us poor gentlemen too much.”
    Honey turned and left the room.
    Lord Alistair remained standing for several minutes after she had left, a quizzical smile on his face.
    Honey soon plunged down into sleep—and straight into Lord Alistair’s arms. He was holding her very tightly and his lips came down on hers in a searing kiss. She wanted that kiss to go on forever, and, when he released her, she cried out with loss.
    Her own cry awoke her and for several moments she lay in bed, blushing all over, feeling she had been deliberately haunted. The last man in the world she wanted to hold in her arms was Lord Alistair.
    She tossed and turned and slept in fits and starts for the rest of the night.
    Lord Alistair was crossing the hall as she made her way down the stairs in the morning. He turned and looked at her and then swept off his hat.
    Honey looked at him and blushed painfully. She mumbled something and fled outside to where her carriage was waiting.
    She fervently hoped she would never see him again.
    Her long journey during the next few days passed without incident. By dint of paying the inn servants their vails on her arrival at each posting house, she was ensured of prompt and willing service. Of course, on her departure, when it transpired there was no more largesse forthcoming, they were apt to turn surly, but there was little they could do by that time to make Honey feel uncomfortable.
    At the end of the