Jane Feather - [V Series] Read Free

flirt, you’re playing the maiden of outraged virtue most convincingly, but I’ve a mind to taste a little more of you than the sting of your palm.” He pulled her toward him like a fisherman drawing in his line and she came as reluctantly as any hooked fish. “It seems only right that you should soothe the hurt you caused.” Cupping her chin with his free hand, he tilted her face. The black eyes were no longer hard and Judith could read a spark of laughter in their depths … laughter, and a most dangerous glimmer that set her nerve endings tingling. Desperately she sought for something that would douse both his laughter and that hazardous glimmer.
    “You would have me kiss it better, sir, like a child’s scraped knee?” She offered an indulgent smile and saw with satisfaction that she had surprised him, and surprise afforded advantage. Swiftly she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “There, that’ll make it better.” After twisting out of his abruptly slackened hold, she danced backward out of the shadows into the relative light of the garden. “I bid you good night, Lord Carrington.” And she was gone, flitting under the moonlight, her body lissome as a hazel wand under the fluid silk of her topaz gown.
    Marcus stared after her through the gloom. How the hell had such a disreputable baggage managed to winthat encounter? He ought to be more than a match for a slip of a girl. He was annoyed; he was amused; but more than anything he was challenged by her. If she wouldn’t be warned away from Charlie, then he’d have to find some more potent inducement.
    Judith returned to the card room, but only to make her farewells, pleading a headache. Charlie was all solicitude, begging to escort her home, but Sebastian was on his feet immediately.
    “No need for that, Fenwick. I’ll take m’sister home.” He yawned himself. “In truth, I’ll not be sorry to keep early hours myself tonight. It’s been a hard week.” He grinned engagingly around the table.
    “A demmed lucky one for you, Davenport,” one of the players said with a sigh, pushing across an IOU.
    “Oh, I’ve the luck of the devil,” Sebastian said cheerfully, pocketing the vowel. “It runs in the family, doesn’t it, Judith?”
    Her smile was somewhat abstracted. “So they say.”
    Sebastian’s eyes sharpened and his gaze flickered to the door of the card room, to where the Marquis of Carrington stood, taking snuff. “You look a little wan, m’dear,” Sebastian said, taking his sister’s arm.
    “I don’t feel quite the thing,” she agreed. “Oh, thank you, Charlie.” She smiled warmly as the young man arranged her shawl around her shoulders.
    “Perhaps you won’t feel like riding tomorrow,” Charlie said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Shall I call upon you—”
    “No, indeed not. My aunt detests callers,” she broke in, touching his hand fleetingly as if in consolation. “But I shall be perfectly well tomorrow. I’ll meet you in the park, as we arranged.”
    Brother and sister made their way out of the card room. Marcus bowed as they reached the door. “I bid you good night, Miss Davenport … Davenport.”
    “Good night, my lord.” She swept past him, then, on an impulse she didn’t quite understand, murmured over her shoulder, “I am riding with your cousin in the morning.”
    “Oh, I fully understand that you’ve thrown down the glove,” he said, as softly as she. “But you have not yet tasted my mettle, ma’am. Take heed.” He bowed again in formal farewell and turned away before she could reply.
    Judith bit her lip, aware of a strange mingling of apprehension and excitement unlike anything she’d felt before, and she knew it was as dangerous as it was uncomfortable.
    “What’s amiss, Ju?” Sebastian spoke as soon as they were out of the mansion and on the cobbled street. “I’ll tell you when we get home.” She climbed into the shabby carriage that awaited them on the corner,