Bride Enchanted Read Free Page A

Italy and touring the Continent whenever it’s not at war with itself.”
    â€œWatch the road!” she said in alarm, as another coach came toward them from the other direction. She took a deep breath as he deftly moved their carriage to the side and looked at her, one brow lifted.
    â€œI promise you I won’t spill us into a ditch.”
    â€œIt’s not that,” she said. “I’m quiet because I’m nervous. I’m thinking of how to say what I must say to you.”
    â€œSay away,” he said. “I’m hard to offend.”
    â€œWell, I don’t mean to offend you,” she said in a rush, “but none of this makes any sense. You offered for my hand. After two dances.”
    â€œYes. I’m a fellow who knows his mind,” he said mildly, as he steered into the park.
    â€œAll very well for you,” she said, staring at him directly. “But me ? Please. Let us be realistic. I’m not vastly rich or titled. I’m certainly not a siren. I’m not spectacular in any fashion. I know my assets, and they are my mind. I mean, my brain. And at that, there are females who are smarter than I am as well. Mind, I’m not ugly. I do have my moments, and have had suitors, but why the most glittering fellow in the London social world should ask for my hand upon clapping eyes on me, I do not know. Nor does my father, or brother, and they really love me.
    â€œNot glittering,” she corrected herself. “That’s tawdry. You’re not that. You glow. You know it too. Now, please, before we go on with this farce: why me, why this?”
    She sat back, feeling lighter, and light-headed too. He’d slowed the horses as they went down a single lane through the park, and was staring at her. And she was staring back, enchanted.
    It was his eyes, she thought. They had deep hidden depths; more rich chocolate than mere brown, with starry lighter brown striations that ringed their centers.
    â€œBecause,” he finally said, pulling up in the shade of an ancient tree. “Precisely because youare the only woman I know who would say such things about yourself.”
    â€œPiffle,” she said, and wished she had the courage to say something stronger. “Hogwash,” she added.
    â€œBecause though you underrate your looks, they give me great pleasure,” he said, smiling. “Everything about you uplifts my spirits. Did you know your nose tilts up? Of course, I suppose you do. But did you know the bow of your lips tilts upward too? And your breasts, they also tilt provocatively…”
    She gasped.
    He fell still, but grinned.
    She settled herself and gave him a gimlet-eyed stare. “Rot,” she said. “There are dozens of females with tilted eyes and noses and whatnot. Try again. You know,” she mused aloud, “the more you speak, the less enchanted I become.”
    â€œAnd because of that,” he said.
    She stared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. It was true. He no longer glowed. Not that he wasn’t still wondrous to look at, but her anger was working like the wind blowing away the morning mists.
    He cocked his head to the side. “You don’t believe me?”
    â€œNot by half. Look you, Mr. Ashford, you haveyour pick of women here in London, and I suspect in Paris and Rome and, and—in Zululand too, for all I know. Mind you, I may not be a great beauty, but I’m content with what I am. Still, I know I’m not the kind of a female a man like you would single out in a crowd. Or even a small gathering. No sense beating around the bush. I won’t be angry if you tell me the truth. Was it a wager? A test? Some kind of a jest? Whatever, tell me, and let’s be done with it.”
    â€œYou look wonderful when you growl,” he said.
    Her eyes narrowed. She wanted to throw her parasol at him, the pointed end first. He laughed and put up a hand in surrender. “All right,”