Anabelle Bryant - The Last Gamble

She did not appear to appreciate his company this morning and he couldn’t blame her. Last night hadn’t proceeded as planned. Her words this morning might be tart, but whenever his gaze settled on her pink, cupid’s-bow mouth, which was fairly often , he regretted leaving last night without a taste. Damn, if he didn’t detect the lovely fragrance of her fancy soap or notice the soft blush of colour tinting her cheeks as she spurned his attention.

Clubs, spades, diamonds, hearts.

He needed to pull his thoughts together. He’d striven to feel nothing for so long, but now, with the anticipation of recovering Nate and the misplaced interest he found in Miss Smith, his composure was at odds.

‘I’m for the post.’ He waved the paper in his hand to illustrate his explanation, not at all like a white flag of surrender.

‘Yes, we’ve discussed that.’

Oh, she was in full governess form this morning, speaking to him like he was a child and piercing him with an intense blue gaze that evoked the kind of feelings that reminded he was anything but.

They’d reached the centre of town and he followed her lead across the main thoroughfare and beyond to the postmaster where they conducted their business in silence. And though he strove to hear the soft-spoken conversation she shared at the window, he failed, posting his letter quickly after so he wouldn’t lose her in the morning bustle.

He managed to join her at the corner adjacent to the fruit and vegetable market where he’d noticed her just two days earlier. Peculiar, how it seemed he’d somehow known her longer than that. Two days seemed more two weeks where Georgina was concerned, and not due to tedium or boredom. Quite the opposite, actually. He found the more he scratched at the surface of the proper young governess, the more he wished to peer in further and investigate.

He opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted before he could begin.

‘No, I haven’t changed my mind, so you needn’t enlist your practised argument.’ She flicked him a flash of crystalline eyes and then returned her attention to the bins of ripe fruit.

The saucy minx.

‘I intended no such thing.’ Even to his own ears, the objection sounded weak. He followed her, two strides behind, as she moved away from the produce stand and advanced to the corner.

While they waited to cross, a milk cart stalled directly in front of them, the merchant aimed at the cow-keeper shop across the way once the avenue cleared. Biscuit yipped a complaint, though the pug quieted soon after, all at once entranced by the rivulet of cream that dripped from the back of the cart to form a puddle on the cobbles below. The dog skirted underneath and Georgina tsked her annoyance, waving with insistence at the pug in hope he would return to her side. Luke watched with amusement, cataloguing the memory of the provocative and disapproving noises coming from the governess’s mouth. Biscuit promptly ignored her request.

Luke could amuse himself all day with such nonsense, but a razor-sharp crack of a leather whip pulled their attention to a large dray blocking the intersection where the animal caused a fuss among the travelling animals and shoppers. The rangy mule attached to the brewer’s wagon refused to budge. The driver cursed a long string of words that provoked Luke to cover Georgina’s ears; and then, too, he’d have the opportunity to feel her hair, but he didn’t dare.

At the same moment, on the opposite corner of the square, a sleek gig entered the roadway. The team of four black horses galloped into the fray, forcing the pedestrians to pay heed and the traffic to capitulate, though the mule continued in deference to his master’s rebuke. All the while, in front of Luke and Georgina, the milk cart rolled forward and Biscuit trailed after the dripping cream, his tongue lolling in pleasure, his tail wagging in euphoric approval.

Everything from that point occurred with lightning speed. The oncoming team of horses thundered forward and the milk-cart driver, anxious to reach the cow keeper, darted with his conveyance towards the centre of the square, avoiding the belligerent mule and aligning with the large dray in protection. Unfortunately, Biscuit proved neither as agile nor as clever. The pug stood frozen in the roadway as the approaching team stormed forward. The last thought Luke processed was the high-pitched yelp of the dog combined with Georgina’s frantic shriek.

In a heroic act he would later use to question his sanity, Luke lunged into the thoroughfare beyond the milk cart and braying jackass to scoop Biscuit from beneath the oncoming hooves of the team, tucking the dog into his arms as he moved aside. His back hit the cobbles with enough brunt to force the air from his lungs and eject the pug from his hold, but despite the animal struggled for freedom, Luke clung to Biscuit’s body and rolled out of harm’s way. All he could think was that he’d saved the damned dog and hopefully curried enough favour with Georgina so she’d assist in locating Nate, except it was the part where his temple struck the curb and knocked him unconscious he hadn’t planned upon. He might have laughed at his foolishness if everything hadn’t suddenly gone black.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.