Heiress in Red Silk, Hunter, Madeline [good beach reads TXT] 📗

She began to read, guessing that the word “draconian” was a fancy way of saying “bad.” The penmanship used in the document distracted her. Perfectly formed with dramatic flourishes, the letters all but sung through the words. A clerk had penned this, of course, but she still envied how beautiful it looked.

“Do you understand it?” The low voice came from her side, where Kevin sat. She glanced at him. Mr. Sanders smiled slightly in amusement.

“I do. Thank you for doing this for me, Mr. Sanders. I see the owner has already signed it.”

“He has signed all three copies. If you put your name to them, it is done.”

She removed her gloves. One by one she signed her name as neatly as she could on each copy, trying not to dribble any ink. Mr. Sanders blotted then folded one and handed it to her. “You are now a resident of London, Miss Jameson.”

This was a bold step. A daring one. There was no turning back now.

Her imagination soared, rearranging the furniture and purchasing more. Picturing Lily in that nice bedchamber on the second story. Seeing Charles walk up the front steps to the door.

Mr. Sanders brought forth more documents. “This is the lease on the shop. That was far more straightforward. It includes the first story, along with the shop at street level.” He set down the vellum.

She read through the terms. Kevin tried to read over her shoulder.

“You are taking that shop on the cross street?” he asked.

She nodded. “Someone told me that just because something isn’t done, that don’t mean it can’t be done.” She picked up the pen and signed her name.

Mr. Sanders finished with those documents too. “I would say you are going to be a busy woman, settling into both places.”

She took her leave of Mr. Sanders. Once in the anteroom, she whispered to Mr. Radnor, “Should I ask the clerk about the fee now?”

“A letter will be sent to you.”

The rain started as soon as they sat in the coach again. She looked in dismay at the rivulets it made on the windows. Her plan for the rest of this outing would not work now.

“I have something for you.” Kevin held a box covered in cloth. He gave it to her.

It was not a box. She unveiled a book. She opened it to see it was a novel by Walter Scott.

“I don’t know if that is the one you were reading. However, it is very popular and perhaps you will enjoy it. There are knights in it.”

She slowly rubbed her palm down the brown leather cover. It had been carved to show a pattern all along its edges. “I will read it at once so I can return it soon.”

“It is not from my library. It is a gift. It is yours.”

She looked down at that lovely cover. It was the first book she had ever owned. “I will give it a special place on me bookcase. Thank you so much.” She looked up to see him smiling at her. Such a handsome smile he had. It softened the highborn angles of his face and affected his eyes so they did not appear so serious and thoughtful.

His generosity gave her courage. “I wish the rain had not started. I intended to ask that we go to the park so that I could talk to you about something.”

He glanced at the rain falling hard outside. “We can go to my family’s house. My father has already demanded to meet you. We can complete that chore, have a luncheon, then escape him to talk privately. Is that agreeable to you?”

She nodded, although the part about his father gave her pause. After his aunt Agnes and Felicity, she did not expect good things from these relatives.

* * *

Kevin weighed the good and the bad of the day. He had not been needed at Sanders’s chambers, that was clear. Perhaps she had wanted an escort because legal matters intimidated her. He decided to accept that, although he didn’t really believe it.

Her request to have a conversation revealed that perhaps she had wanted his escort for reasons besides letting that house and shop. His solution to the problem caused by the weather came without hesitation, however, even if it meant suffering his father’s interference. He embraced the notion quickly because it had seemed an easy way to continue spending time in Miss Jameson’s company.

Acknowledging that, admitting it, pushed him into silent thought for the rest of the ride. The goal, you ass, is to make her more manageable, not to make you an idiot.

She spent the time poking around in her reticule, then opened the book and turned the front pages. It was not an expensive tome, but she handled it as if it were precious. Her surprise in receiving it touched him. He guessed that she had not often received presents.

He tried not to look at her, but there she was, lovely, self-possessed, luscious. Chase had chosen the right word with that one. She could wear a dress as shapeless as those schoolgirl sacks she’d ordered for her sister and still make a man half mad. As it was, her yellow dress and pale green pelisse revealed her form despite the ensemble’s modesty. Her proximity alone had him close to a full arousal that would be difficult to hide. He began forming his thoughts in ancient Greek in order to avoid such an embarrassing development.

He really needed to conquer his inconvenient attraction to her, which promised to interfere in numerous ways. It shouldn’t be too difficult to do that, though. There were hundreds of beautiful women in London, and he rarely noticed any of them. He prided himself on not being the kind of man who wasted time or money on pointless infatuations.

They couldn’t arrive at his house fast enough for his comfort. He bounded out of the coach as soon as the footman opened the door, then handed