The Reckless Bride Read Online Free PDF

simply stared.
    He stared back. He was only vaguely aware of another female—presumably the other maid—slipping into the room and closing the door; his entire attention, all his senses, had fixed, unswervingly, on the lady in blue.
    The
young
lady in blue.
    She was tallish, slender, and intensely feminine; an aura of suppressed—or was it controlled?—vibrancy all but charged the air around her. Her eyes, large and just faintly tip-tilted, were of an arresting shade of periwinkle blue made only more striking by her royal blue pelisse. Her curves were sleek, yet definite. He’d heard women with such figures likened to Greek or Roman deities; he now understood why. She was Athena, Diana, Persephone, Artemis—she seemed to be those constructs given life, just with sable hair and blue, blue eyes.
    He felt like he’d taken a clout to the head. Just as in battles when he was staring down Death, time stood still.
    It took effort to restart his mind, to return to the real world.
    To the here and now.
    “Esme” she’d said, and meant Lady Congreve. She was the other lady, Lady Congreve’s traveling companion. A young lady her ladyship had taken under her wing.
    The goddess had halted at the back of the chaise on which her laydship sat. Lady Congreve raised a hand, gracefully waved. “Allow me to present Miss Loretta Michelmarsh, my great-niece. The Honorable Mr. Rafe Carstairs, and his companion, Mr. Hassan.”
    Rafe inclined his head. Stiffly. The goddess was a relative; that made matters worse.
    Miss Michelmarsh, her gaze still locked on him, her expression oddly blank, bestowed the barest bob that would pass for civility.
    “You’re just in time, Loretta dear, to hear the latest news.” Lady Congreve twisted around to smile at her great-niece. “Mr. Carstairs and Mr. Hassan saved me from two attackers in the street near the shipping office, and at my request they’ve agreed to fill the positions of our courier-guide and guard.”
    Rafe now understood the reason behind Lady Congreve’s triumphant expression, realized that the trap he’d fallen into was of quite a different nature than he’d foreseen. He’d forgotten the principal entertainment grandes dames such as Lady Congreve delighted in. Matchmaking. Preferably with those of their acquaintance.
    Her ladyship knew his family. She knew her great-niece. But he’d be damned if he allowed her to matchmake him—even with a vision that brought to mind a pantheon of goddesses.
    Aside from all else … dragging in a deeper breath, he forced his gaze from its distraction, and looked down at her ladyship, who was clearly waiting to gauge his response. “Lady Congreve, I regret it will not be possible for me and Hassan to act as courier-guide and guard for you during your upcoming journey.”
    Lady Congreve regarded him, a frown forming in her eyes. “I understood, dear boy, that you had already agreed to fill the positions subject to informing me of the reason behind your current journey and my confirmation of the appointments subsequent to that.” She opened her eyes wide. “What on earth happened in the space of just a moment to change your mind?”
    She knew. Rafe held her gaze, felt his jaw firm. “Regardless, my lady, on further consideration it will be impossible for me and Hassan to join your party.”
    Lady Congreve’s eyes narrowed on him, something her niece couldn’t see. “Surely you aren’t reneging on our agreement because of Loretta?”
    Yes, he was.
While he’d entertained the possibility of joining forces with Lady Congreve, a lady in the latter years of her life and, he judged, with significant life experience, and had been prepared to court the risk that through him she might be exposed to the Black Cobra’s minions, he would not, could not even in his most reckless mood, countenance putting a young lady like Loretta Michelmarsh in any danger whatever.
    He held Lady Congreve’s gaze. “There’s a certain degree of risk involved in