For the Love of a Pirate Read Online Free Page B

beauty, he would have had a more difficult time rejecting her. He’d always had a soft spot for a beautiful woman. If she’d been a taking young miss, all airs and graces, he might have felt like a monster in denying her. But this! She was a plain little thing in a plain day gown, the hem liberally spattered with mud. Her hair was wet and pressed down flat, her nose pink from the weather, and she had no graces at all because she stood stock-still, gaping at him. Her eyes, he thought absently, were fine, the color of topazes, and very bright. At least the poor creature had something of feminine merit. He decided to be kind to her, because he doubted she’d had a hand in this, any more than he had. And it was easy to be kind to such a female. He’d always been taught to be considerate of those less fortunate.
    He gave her a melting smile.
    Those great topaz eyes blinked.
    â€œHow do you do?” he said, and bowed, feeling as foolish as if he were bowing to a barnyard creature.
    She ducked an answering bow. “How do you do?” she echoed. “I was out walking. Then the rain began. I look a fright, excuse me.”
    â€œAye, you do,” her grandfather said. “Look like you got dragged through a hedge backward. Go up and change. I’ll have Cook hold dinner.”
    She flashed a sudden smile at Constantine. “I won’t make you wait long,” she said, and fled the room.
    â€œShe’ll clean up better, you’ll see,” the captain said. “Have a seat. Or do you want a wash before we eat? Lovey, go upstairs and have a lie-down until dinner.”
    â€œI’ll do, right here,” Lovey said, her eyes crossing and closing as she tried to stare at their guest.
    Constantine bowed. “I think I would like to freshen up, thank you,” he said. He had many things to say to his host, but this was neither the time nor place. But he’d say them this very night, so there’d be no mistaking his intentions. And the foremost of those right now was to leave this madhouse as soon as he could.

Chapter 3
    C onstantine changed into correct evening clothes and then came down the stairs. An ancient footman told him that the captain was waiting for him in his study. Constantine joined him, feeling horribly overdressed, since the captain was still in the casual attire he’d worn when his guest arrived. Although he felt vaguely foolish in his knee-high breeches, tight fitted jacket, shining linen, and correctly tied neckcloth, Constantine reminded himself that a well-dressed gentleman was always dressed correctly.
    He was offered another glass, this one of aged Spanish sherry, and was sipping it, appreciating its age and fire, when his eye was caught by a movement at the doorway. A lovely woman appeared there, and was staring at him. Constantine stopped sipping. Captain Bigod was grinning. Miss Lovelace smiled. But no one bothered making an introduction. The young woman was still looking at Constantine, so he recovered enough poise to bow.
    â€œGood lord, Captain,” he drawled. “You didn’t tell me you had two granddaughters. And this is . . . ?”
    She giggled.
    The captain guffawed.
    Miss Lovelace, in her chair by the fire, tittered.
    Lord Wylde’s smile vanished. His face became expressionless. He suddenly realized who she was, but didn’t see the jest, didn’t mean it as a joke, and didn’t like being laughed at.
    The young woman stopped smiling. She curtsied. “I am the captain’s only granddaughter,” she said. “So far as I know.”
    The captain laughed. Constantine winced.
    â€œNow, Lisabeth,” Miss Lovelace said. She wagged a finger. “Too ripe a jest, my dear.”
    â€œIt was my mistake,” Constantine said in a deadly calm voice. “I apologize. Your appearance must have so dazzled me that I couldn’t see clearly at first.”
    The young woman’s lips curled. It was not