Cree, Ann Elizabeth Lord Rotham's Wager (Mills & Boon)

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very kind, but I... I have something to discuss with Harry," Claire
said. Her face coloured at the fib, but the thought of having to
converse with Jack, even in this crowded assembly, made her want to
run.
His eyes narrowed.
"Do you? I am certain it can wait until later."
"It is important." She felt even more disconcerted when he visibly
stiffened, his eyes losing all expression.
"Very well." He bowed and turned on his heel. Instead of feeling
relief, Claire wanted to weep, an all-too-common emotion lately. Why
had she been so rude? It was only because she had suddenly felt so
vulnerable and nervous at the sight of him. She hardly remembered
Harry until he cleared his throat.
"Shall we proceed to the ballroom?"
"What?" She stared at him blankly.
"I ... yes, that would be nice." His expression was not unsympathetic.
He picked up the cane she was using and handed it to her. He took her
other arm, and they slowly proceeded to the ballroom. Harry beckoned a
footman and had him fetch a chair. He placed it in a corner and Claire
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sat down. Harry glanced down at her.
"What is it you wanted to discuss? A topic of prime importance, I
gather."
"I've forgotten."
"I see." His lips twitched and he glanced out towards the floor where
the dancers were performing a cotillion. He brought his eyes back to
her.
"Jack will ride his black in a race tomorrow. A cross-country race,"
he said casually.
"A race?" Claire's head jerked up.
"He never said anything."
"I dare say he has other things on his mind when he's with you."
"A
cross-country race sounds so dangerous. " A vivid memory of Jack
racing across a field on a large bay colt flashed through her mind. He
had jumped a hedge on a dare, a hedge no one had ever attempted before.
He'd landed on the other side, his dark hair shining in the sun, and
Claire's heart had leapt to her throat.
He'd pulled the dancing colt to a halt and looked down at her, his eyes
laughing and triumphant.
"So, my lovely Claire, I have won my wager. What do I get from you?"
"A scolding. How dare you do such a reckless thing?"
"I was in no danger." He patted the still prancing horse on the
neck.
"I had no doubt he'd do it." He grinned at her.
"Could it be you were worried about me?"
"I... no, of course not." Claire turned away and marched off, angry
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with herself for caring that he might fall and break his neck. He was
the worst flirt she'd ever '? met and why he persisted in forcing his
attentions on | her was beyond her comprehension. | Claire jerked her
mind back to the present. She realised Harry was watching her with a
slight smile. She | flushed.
"I suppose he will do very well," she said, trying | to keep her voice
indifferent. | "Probably. I am betting he'll win." Harry looked back
S towards the dancers.
"Shall I fetch you a lemonade?" He | started off.
"And I do hope, my dear Claire, that you can | be a little bit kind to
Jack. I should hate to see him driven into Alicia's all-too-willing
arms." He sauntered off. Claire glanced at the dancers, and her gaze
froze.
Jack was moving through the steps of the dance with Alicia. They
looked lovely together, graceful and elegant. Only a few inches
shorter than Jack, Alicia seemed to complement him perfectly. Of
course, it would be wonderful if he decided to fall in love with
Alicia. Then he would no longer be so insistent upon marrying
Claire.
Perhaps he'd realised his proposal had been precipitous, an impulsive
act brought on by some chivalrous notion he should marry her after the
masquerade. The thought was horribly depressing. If he really wanted
to marry her, he would have insisted on dragging her away from Harry in
his usual arrogant manner. Instead, he had walked off and was now with
Alicia.
Perhaps the injury to her foot had affected her reason. She wanted him
to leave her be, didn't she? Whatever was wrong with her? It hardly
mattered to her what he did, or whether he was now pursuing another
woman.
She stood, no longer wanting to watch the painful spectacle of Jack and
Alicia. She grabbed her cane, and hobbled towards a small connecting
saloon. It was not crowded. Claire found a seat near one of the
windows.
She groaned as she remembered Harry was fetching her a lemonade.
Well,
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she hadn't asked him for one anyway.
Despite her attempts to think of something else, she found herself
straining to hear when the last strains of the music finally died away.
Her whole body seemed to tense and she realised she half hoped Jack [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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