The Pursuit of Pleasure Read Online Free PDF Page A

heavenward and scrunched up her nose. She crooked a finger at him and silently headed down the hallway. He ignored her. Just for fun.
    “Aren’t you going to permit me to pay my respects to your parents, or am I to be dismissed and sent away quietly, like the tradesmen?”
    That marmalade eyebrow rose in exasperation.
    “Have it your way.”
    She slid across the hall and opened the door with her back, slouching against the portal, her hands hidden behind her. She simply angled her head to invite him into the room where Squire Paxton and Lady Theodora were quietly engaged, she at her embroidery, and he reading the London papers.
    Squire Paxton laid down his newspaper and made to rise along with his eyebrows, but Lizzie sailed on, cutting him out at his mooring.
    “Mama, Papa, you remember Jamie Marlowe? Well, he’s Captain Jameson Marlowe of His Majesty’s Royal Navy now. He’s come to propose, so I’m taking him out to the garden so he can do it properly.” She cast a saucy glance at his tight, fawn-colored buckskin breeches. “You’ll have to mind those kicks on the grass.”
    And off Lizzie went, unmindful of her mother’s strangled protestation at her nearly vulgar, cant mention of his unmentionables. Never mind her cavalier description of his proposal.
    Marlowe swallowed his laughter and made a formal bow to her parents, whose mouths were gaping like mackerels. He might have followed their daughter, as he always had done, but those days were over, even if Lizzie hadn’t quite realized it yet.
    “Good afternoon, Lady Theodora, Squire Paxton.”
    Lady Theodora Paxton instantly came forward to take his hand. “My dear boy. How wonderful to see you again after all this time.”
    The lady was as he had remembered: a small, light-haired woman of genial countenance. The daughter of an earl, she had been a great beauty in her day. Time had softened and blurred the edges that were still sharp on her daughter, but Lady Theodora, warm, kind, and generous, was mostly unchanged.
    He turned his eyes upon the squire and stood for a long moment, letting him take the full measure of his potential son-in-law. Marlowe was surprised to find the squire diminished, smaller and not at all the intimidating Lord of the Manor of his memory. His gingery hair was liberally streaked with white, and his florid complexion looked strained and tired. Lizzie seemed to have been doing her work rather too well.
    Squire Paxton made a very small bow. “How d’ye do, Captain Marlowe.”
    His emphasis was only just short of insulting. How nice to still engender such alarm and bristling hostility after ten years. It had been a long wait.
    Marlowe bared his teeth like a smiling dog. It had a wonderful effect upon the squire: his mottled face paled, leaving a spiderweb of purple veins crawling down his nose and cheeks. The years had not been kind to the squire.
    “If you will excuse me.” Marlowe made a gracious bow, smooth as water, his fine manners well displayed to Lady Theodora. “I have an appointment with your lovely daughter, and I had best not keep the lady waiting.”
    Another very small bow to Squire Paxton, and Marlowe took himself down the hall after Lizzie.
    She was slouched back against French doors leading out to a terrace, waiting for him with every appearance of nonchalance. Not exactly the picture of the ardent bride-to-be.
    “What astonishing cheek, Miss Paxton. Where on earth did you learn such disreputable language?”
    “Why, Cap’n Marlowe,” she drawled in answer. “There’s a big, brawling world out there. Didn’t you know?”
    He most certainly did. God, she was irresistible. Even in that hideous sack of a gown.
    “No wonder they want you off their hands. And no wonder there are no other takers.”
    She shot him a superior little glance, all narrow eyes and pleated, lush lips.
    “Crying off already, are we?”
    “Not on your life.” No, he was in for as long as she would let him.
    “No,” she corrected with