The Pleasure of Your Kiss Read Free

see. Handsome young officers will be engaging in fisticuffs and challenging each other to duels, all for the privilege of standing in line to fill out your dance card.” Clarinda had every intention of making good on that promise. Even if her new husband had to order the men in his employ to do so upon threat of court-martial … or execution.
    “But what if word of my”—Poppy threw a nervous glance over her shoulder and lowered her voice to a stage whisper, as if some gossip-minded old biddy could be lurking behind the oaken barrels lashed to the bulkhead—“ indiscretion has already reached the ears of some of the officers’ wives through the post?”
    It was one of the unfathomable ironies of life that a shy, mild-mannered creature like Poppy had unwittingly gotten herself embroiled in the scandal of the season. One that had set jaws to dropping and tongues to wagging from London to Surrey and effectively destroyed her last hope of landing a husband before she was placed firmly on the shelf.
    Clarinda’s own jaw had dropped when she had first heard Poppy had been caught in a worse-than-compromising position with a certain young gentleman from Berwickshire. She had dismissed the torrid tale as so much rubbish until she learned there had been more than a dozen witnesses to the incident. Unable to bear the thought of Poppy being condemned for a sin she had not committed, she had immediately packed a portmanteau and gone rushing to her friend’s rescue, just as she had so many times at the Seminary when the wealthier, prettier girls were mocking Poppy’s ill-fitting bodices and thick spectacles or calling her Piggy instead of Poppy.
    Poppy, the only daughter of a humble country squire, had always been absurdly grateful for Clarinda’s patronage, but Clarinda was equally grateful for Poppy’s stalwart friendship. Clarinda’s papa had been eager for her to get a first-rate education, but the first thing she had learned at Miss Throckmorton’s establishment was that money couldn’t buy the esteem of those who fancied themselves superior by birth. When the budding little “ladies” had discovered Clarinda’s papa had made his fortune in trade, they had turned up their patrician noses and openly mocked her lineage … or lack thereof. By turning up her own nose and pretending their cruel words and petty slights didn’t cut her to the quick, she had eventually earned their respect and ended up being one of the most popular girls at the school.
    But she had never forgotten that Poppy had been her first and truest friend or that they had originally been drawn together because neither of them had fit in.
    Clarinda was trusting the outpost at Burma would be ripe with lonely officers desperate for female companionship. Women of gentle breeding would be scarce, and past indiscretions would be more likely to be forgiven and forgotten instead of dwelled upon with malice and relish.
    In their own way, she supposed she and Poppy were each fleeing England and its memories, both good and bad.
    “Any officer—or gentleman—who wouldn’t dismiss such idle gossip isn’t worthy to polish the boots of Miss Penelope Montmorency,” she assured her friend, “much less seek her hand in matrimony.”
    Poppy’s smile reappeared, dimpling her cheeks. “I’m only hoping I can find a man half as passionate and devoted as yours. I think it’s terribly romantic that he would arrange passage for you on one of his own ships so you could travel halfway around the world to become his bride.”
    Passion was never a word Clarinda had really equated with her fiancé. True, he had been pursuing her for a long time, but his proposal had consisted of a detailed list of all the reasons why they would suit, not an ardent declaration of love. Yet the steadfastness of his nature had finally convinced her he would never leave her to go chasing after some foolish dream.
    Her shrug indicated a lightness of heart she did not feel. “The earl is