Beguiling Bridget Read Free

statement quite helpful. He patted her hand as if to give her comfort.
    Lady Bridget bit her lip and tilted her head. “Blind? How did you know?”
    Anthony put down his lemonade — nasty stuff to begin with — and turned his devastating smile on her yet again. “I smiled.”
    “And that makes me blind?” Lady Bridget stepped closer to him, close enough for him to smell lilacs on her milky skin. Blast, how he wanted to reach out and touch her.
    “Of course it does. You had no reaction whatsoever.”
    “Of all the hair-brained, egotistical notions!” Lady Bridget rolled her eyes and sipped her lemonade, casting a glance back over her shoulder toward the corner from whence she had come.
    Anthony knew it couldn’t be true, but she seemed bored with him if her stifled yawn and wandering gaze was any indication. If he was to win this bet, and so maintain bragging rights with his insufferable twin brother and their social circle, he had to hold her interest. He took another step toward her to regain her attention, reaching for her glass and fully intending to ask her to dance.
    The step proved hazardous, however, and he felt his foot slip forward on something, causing his body to pitch backward and his arms and legs to flail in the air. The last thing Anthony remembered was a sharp pain slicing into the back of his head as he caught the edge of the refreshment table. Then darkness overtook him.

Chapter Two
    A Worthy Opponent
     
    Blind? Surely the man couldn’t be serious. Granted, he was remarkably handsome with his soft wavy brown hair and his sage green eyes trimmed with a hint of gold. If she had a propensity for such things, Bridget supposed she could easily find herself lost in his gaze.
    But she did not have the propensity.
    And the man was an absolute cad.
    Bridget could tell by that look in his eyes, the same haughty look she had seen in a hundred men these past few weeks, that he believed she would be an easy conquest. And she had every intention of dispelling his misconception of her the moment he asked her to dance.
    But as he reached for her glass, the man lost his footing and fell, flailing to the ground. Bridget stifled a shocked laugh. Pride goeth before a destruction , she thought and slipped away to allow enough room for others to see to the viscount’s injury.
    ****
    The haze dissipated slowly as if he were returning from some sort of dream filled with a dashing redhead. On second thought, it was a nightmare, for his eyes made out the fuzzy image of Wilde crouched above him. The man's lips were moving, but whatever words issuing forth from him made no sense. Slowly Anthony's other senses came into focus, and confusion set in. What had happened?
    “Say something, man!” Wilde was shouting in his face.
    “Your breath… is reminiscent of a fire breathing dragon, Wilde. Please direct it elsewhere,” Anthony whispered in a husky voice.
    Wilde rocked back on his heels, his face reddened with irritation. Behind him Ambrose laughed.
    “I'd say he's recovered,” his brother announced.
    Anthony sat up slowly. His head throbbed, so he reached a tremulous hand to the lump now protruding from the back of his skull. It was dry. No blood. At least he hadn’t spilled his innards in front of the lady. Nothing makes a woman more likely to swoon than a man projecting blood on her person.
    The events leading to his present state began to swirl back through his mind. Lady Bridget. To where had she disappeared? Were they not just in conversation? Wasn’t she concerned for his welfare? Devil take it! A woman should know her place! She should help a man when he… had a tumble.
    He cast a pensive glance around the room to search for her, but there were too many people crowding about him.
    The music started up again, dispersing the concerned spectators.
    Ambrose offered his hand. “Can you stand, brother?” A mischievous grin taunted Anthony from his twin's face.
    “I believe so. What the devil happened?” He