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The Rake to Reveal Her. Julia JustissЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Rake to Reveal Her - Julia Justiss


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at the same time, upon meeting the man again, properly garbed and in his own element, she’d been struck by the potent masculinity he radiated, in spite of his injuries. The fever-induced thinness of his frame only served to emphasise his impressive height and the broadness of his shoulders. Caught up in gazing at the strong chin, sensual lips and brilliant blue eye, she’d several times, like a moment ago, lost track of where she was in the conversation.

      A fact as sobering and even more dismaying than learning the identity of her new landlord.

      Just sitting beside him in the pony trap, close enough that the next bump in the road might bounce her into contact with his body, kept her heartbeat skipping at an accelerated pace. The air between them seemed to simmer with a palpable tension.

      As an unmarried woman, society might expect her to be an innocent, but she was no stranger to passion. In the arms of the man who’d intended to make her his wife, she’d revelled in kissing and touching, eager to explore Marshall’s body, wanting him to explore hers. Though she’d lived mostly in the company of men for the years since his death, not until today had she felt again that unbidden, instinctive, intensely physical connection.

      She knew exactly how powerful it could be—and how dangerous.

      Oh, this would not do at all!

      She should have insisted on delaying this visit until Ransleigh’s estate agent could accompany her.

      Instead, disbelieving, intrigued—and tempted—she’d permitted his company, compelled to discover if that incompatible pairing of feelings—welcome ease, and dangerous attraction—would dissipate upon further acquaintance.

      Well, it hadn’t. Despite the distractions of the drive and the delight of the bluebell wood, the ease had only increased, and so too the attraction. As evidenced a moment ago by her losing track of every thought save the impulse to run her finger over his lips and watch that undamaged eye drift closed as she tangled her fingers in the shaggy mane of blond hair and pulled his mouth to hers.

      Just recalling that desire sent another flush of heat through her.

      But there was no time now for her to figure out what she was going to do about this unwelcome complication, with Mr Ransleigh pulling up the pony trap in front of the stone building. Forcing her thoughts away from that dilemma, she made herself calm.

      The spark that singed her fingers as he helped her down momentarily distracted her. But Theo would never have survived the last four years had she not been able to summon the will to focus only on the problem at hand.

      Putting a deliberate distance between them, Theo followed Mr Ransleigh as he led her on an inspection of the stone building.

      The fact that the structure appeared nearly perfect for her purposes helped her concentrate. Originally designed as a barn, the building had a main floor of smooth paving stones; the stalls had been removed, leaving an open, rectangular space that would do well as a schoolroom. The hayloft above, its partially floored area finished out and with railed wooden stairs constructed to reach it, would serve splendidly as a dormitory.

      ‘This will be excellent!’ Theo declared as, having made use of the railing rather than her escort’s arm to steady her, she returned from the upper floor to the main room. ‘It will require very few alterations: partitions upstairs, to divide the boys’ area from the girls’, and cordoning off a small section on this floor to install a kitchen, where meals can be prepared and girls can be schooled in cooking and household management.’

      ‘Are you sure?’ Mr Ransleigh said dubiously. ‘It looks like a cobweb-infested wreck to me.’

      ‘Compared to some of the structures I had to make habitable on the Peninsula, it’s a virtual palace! I dare say the roof will not leak, half-drowning some hapless orphan in the middle of the night, nor a wall give way, letting in cows to munch next morning’s bread, nor do I see any ancient piles of rotted straw that might house a host of vermin.’

      ‘Sounds like you were billeted in the same places I was,’ Ransleigh said.

      ‘Doubtless,’ she agreed, dragging her mind back before it could jump to contemplating the idea of being billeted...or bedded down...with her compelling landlord. ‘A good scrubbing and a competent carpenter, and I believe I can turn this into just the school I envisioned. If you’re agreed, I’ll consult the solicitor at once to find the necessary workmen, so they may begin as soon as the lease is signed.’

      ‘You might consult Bildenstone’s steward, Winniston. He seems to have kept the manor house in reasonable repair, despite the family not having resided there for years. And he would know where to find the craftsmen you’ll need.’

      ‘That would be most helpful, if it won’t be too much bother.’ Laughing ruefully, she shook her head. ‘Here I’ve been assuring you I wouldn’t intrude on your peace! I’ve already dragged you from your house and am now thinking of imposing upon your estate manager.’

      Mr Ransleigh shrugged. ‘He hasn’t been imposed upon for years. Every soldier needs a little prodding to keep him marching in the right direction.’

      ‘Very well, I shall ask. Now, I should allow you to get back to Bildenstone and whatever business I interrupted when you felt obliged to accompany me here.’

      Theo worked to keep the wistfulness from her voice. Unwise as it was, she was enjoying this outing more than she could remember enjoying anything in a long time. The easy camaraderie and sense of shared experience made her forget for a while that she was now alone in an unfamiliar world. And his tantalising presence revived dim memories of what an energising delight it was to bandy words with a handsome man, a titillating buzz of attraction humming between them.

      Settling the details of the lease was a matter for solicitors; once they completed their tour today, there would be no need for her to consult again with the property’s owner. She would go back to her children and their needs, and firmly shut behind her the door into this glimpse of what life spent with a congenial, beguiling man might have been like.

      Since that life was lost to her for ever, the sooner she did so, the better.

      Setting her shoulders, she walked back to the pony trap and hauled herself to the bench before her escort could offer a hand.

      Which didn’t mean she was any less cognizant of the simmering heat of him, once he climbed up beside her, she thought with a sigh.

      ‘That was exceedingly dusty,’ Mr Ransleigh said as he set the vehicle in motion. ‘Can I offer you tea when we get back?’

      Theo steeled herself against the temptation to accept. ‘That’s very kind, but I shouldn’t.’ A more disturbing thought occurred and she frowned. ‘Indeed, now that I think of it, with you being a bachelor and having no lady mother in residence, I seem to recall that it would be considered improper of me to take tea at your house—or indeed, even to call upon you.’

      She sighed with exasperation. ‘English mores! Dashed inconvenient, with you being our landlord, but there it is. I only hope I haven’t blotted my copybook already! It wouldn’t help the children’s reception—already dubious, according to what you’ve told me—if your servants carry tales hinting that I’m a lightskirt.’

      Her companion choked back a laugh. ‘You really are plain-spoken, aren’t you?’

      ‘I’m completely devoid of maidenly sensibilities,’ Theo admitted. ‘Perhaps I should try to acquire some, if it will make the idea of the school more acceptable to the neighbourhood.’

      ‘Though you may be right, I’d hate to see it. I find your candour refreshing.’

      ‘So is a dunk in the Channel, but most people would rather avoid it,’ Theo said wryly. ‘I’ll have to learn to curb my tongue—and think more carefully about my actions.’ She made a mental note to ask Aunt Amelia, before she returned to London, to review with her the most important rules of propriety.

      ‘You’re probably right about tea,’ Ransleigh allowed. ‘Talking


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