Undressed (Undone by Love) Read Online Free PDF Page B

your, well...”  Her voice trailed off, and she waved a hand in dismissal. “But I do so want to see you married well and happy.”
    Married well by her standards, of course. To some insufferable English gentleman who looked down his noble nose at Highland Scots, who would have no interest whatsoever in Castle Glenbroch and its inhabitants. Brenna shook her head carefully, ever mindful of her hair’s elaborate arrangement. No, she did not need them to choose a husband for her. She did not need a husband. She especially did not need an English husband.
    With an inward groan, she followed her mother out to the waiting carriage .
     
    ***
     
    “Well, man, what did she say?”  Colin stepped up to Ballard, his brows drawn. His friend looked uneasy, unable to meet his eyes as the two men ducked behind Lady Brandon’s ebony pianoforte.
    “It seems you were right, old boy.”  Ballard clapped him on the shoulder . “Sinclair got to her first. I did my best, but I’m afraid she wouldn’t have it. Miss Lyttle-Brown is a stubborn chit, if ever there was one. Sinclair managed to completely convince her of your guilt.”
    “Damn him.”  Colin shoved his fists into his pockets.
    “And if that weren’t enough, her father has threatened to remove her to the countryside at once if she so much as glances in your direction.”
    Ah, but they’d be long gone to Gretna before her father had the chance . Colin almost smiled at the thought. “Is she here?”
    “Shall we take a look ? It’s quite a crush tonight, isn’t it?”
    The two men stepped around the pianoforte and began to make their way across the cavernous drawing room .
    “Ballard, a word, if you will.”  Lord Barclay’s imperious voice halted them.
    “Lord Barclay,” Colin said, acknowledging the venerable old marquess with a bow. “Good evening, sir.” 
    Lord Barclay’s eyes met Colin’s for an instant before he averted them . “A word, Ballard,” he repeated, his voice as flinty as steel—as if Colin weren’t standing there, as if he weren’t worthy of the man’s notice.
    Colin’s hands began to shake with rage .
    Ballard looked to Colin with a shrug . “Sorry, old boy,” he whispered, before turning his full attention to Lord Barclay. “Of course, sir,” Ballard said, and then followed Barclay out.
    With an oath, Colin began to shoulder his way across the room . Bloody hell, where was Honoria? She would hear him out, and she would know he spoke the truth. Unless he’d misjudged her. Seriously misjudged her. Had he been blinded by her beauty and practiced charm? Quite possibly, he realized, stunned by the thought. He reached for a glass of champagne and gulped it down in one long draught.
    He pushed his way across the room, increasingly aware of scornful glances directed his way . A trio of debutantes whispered behind their fans, their eyes flashing maliciously above the pleated silk. A pair of gentlemen sneered and turned their backs to him as he passed. No one spoke his name in greeting, not one single soul.
    Increasing his pace, Colin accomplished the far side of the room at last and flung open the pair of doors leading out . As soon as he stepped into the warm, humid night, he froze, staring blindly up at the bright moon. He inhaled sharply, discerning the cloying scent of roses over the earthy smell of freshly turned soil. The garden . He would go to the garden and take a moment to compose himself, he resolved as snippets of conversation floated on the breeze from the drawing room behind him.
    “Rosemoor...He’s done it this time...won’t be welcome in a fashionable drawing room in Mayfair by morning...a shame, isn’t it ? His family is so lovely.”
    Dear God, he was ruined . Ruined . The knowledge hit him with an almost-painful force. With a roar of frustration, Colin stormed down the single flight of stone stairs and across the small square lawn below.
     
    Leaning against the trunk of a linden tree, Brenna looked up at the moon