Secrets of a Scandalous Bride Read Free

landed on something far too soft and he sprang up like a scalded dog. “What the devil?”
    “I’m so sorry, Mr. Manning. Um…I require your assistance.” She exhaled. “ Please. ”
    Ah…the juicy widowed morsel from the church—the one with the bountiful hair and the magnificent glittering emerald eyes. He narrowed his gaze. “Really? And what’s in it for me?”
    She was doing a fairly good job of hiding her panic. Only her uneven breathing gave her away. “Everything I have if you will not betray me to those soldiers.”
    “Everything? Hmmm, my favorite word.”
    Someone knocked insistently on the carriage door. “Yes, yes. Anything .”
    “All right. But one word and I’ll throw you to the wolves myself,” he muttered. In a smattering of moments he wrapped her damned lace fichu around his neck, transferred his hat to her head, and flipped up her skirts, ignoring her shocked intake of breath. He abruptly hooked an arm under one of her knees and fit himself snugly between her slender thighs. Surprisingly, she had the good sense to keep her lips from flapping and hid her face against his neck cloth. At the last second, he lowered his breeches, and reached for his crop between the roof’s hat straps.
    The carriage door wrenched open, and the sound of gruff coughing mixed with coarse guffaws soon echoed behind him. Rowland worked the trunk of his body against hers in a slow, provocative manner, not allowing her to retreat an inch as he tickled her calf with his crop.
    He turned his head slightly and addressed the onlookers, “Gawk if you like, you buggers. Lizzie likes it, don’t you, dearie? But there’s a price. Lefroy? Make ’em pay up or be gone.” He reached over and yanked the door closed.
    He looked down into her wild eyes, which held the same mesmerizing sparkle as a sunset’s rays as they bounced off the River Thames. She made a few inarticulate noises, pushed against his chest and budged him not.
    “Oh no. We’ve gone this far, madam. I’ll not face the magistrate now. Wrap your legs around me, you fool. If there’s a second act, you could put more effort into it. A few moans wouldn’t hurt,” he growled into her pretty ear.
    She was glorious with that dazzling beck of honey-colored hair flowing from beneath his brushed beaver hat, her vibrant eyes spearing him with defiance.
    “Give me that. ” She took a swipe at the plaited leather whip he tickled her with, but missed as he raised it above his head.
    There was but the thinnest bit of feminine linen separating him from intimate knowledge of her, and he had to give her credit for displaying such pluck in the face of such offenses.
    But then, he didn’t know her, did he? Oh, he knew she was one of those widowed harpies trying to claw her way up the slippery slopes of society by way of the Helston clan’s coattails. But now it appeared her ladyship had a few sinful secrets tucked away in her blue silk and satin skirts. Didn’t they all?
    She was, indeed, every bit as much an actor in this farcical quagmire of humanity plaguing the earth as he.
    Christ, she was so damn soft beneath him, and she smelled so good. His groin pulsed despite the cacophony of voices outside the door, and he cursed foully.
    “Lefroy,” he barked over his shoulder toward the closed door. “If there be no takers, haul up the wheel shoe and get your bony arse on the driving board.” Furious that he had lost his usual iron grip on his body, he grabbed the edge of the seat and prepared to recommence the show if necessary.
    With a shout, the conveyance jolted forward, and the sounds of the traces jangled.
    He jerked away as if her flesh burned him, and whipped her skirts back into place before swinging into the opposite seat. “You’re lucky I prefer beds for ravaging,” he lied.
    She smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her elegant gown as a blush crested her cheeks.
    “I don’t know what you did, madam, but whatever it was, I wouldn’t wager those blades