Practical Widow to Passionate Mistress

Practical Widow to Passionate Mistress by Louise Allen Page A

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Authors: Louise Allen
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take the expression on the young valet’s face to make her realise her error. ‘You know him already?’
    ‘I came over on the same ship from Bordeaux,’ Meg confessed. ‘I have nursing experience and I dressed his leg when he first boarded—that is a nasty bullet wound.’
    ‘I see,’ was all Perrott said. Meg hoped profoundly that he did not, and that he would keep his mouth shut about whatever speculations he had formed.
    ‘I had no idea he had a title,’ she added, hoping that made the acquaintance seem even more remote.
    ‘His father was the third Baron Brandon,’ Perrott told her as they picked their way around a spilled basket of herring. ‘A big man with a nasty temper, very hot.’
    ‘Well, his son is very cold,’ Meg said. ‘From what I have seen,’ she added cautiously. ‘There was an incidenton board and he dealt with it ruthlessly and with all the heat of an ice house.’
    Perrott gave a snort of amusement, then sobered. ‘He doesn’t seem too worried about the existing staff. His old lordship must have had a valet and there’s definitely a housekeeper in residence. What is he going to do with them?’
    ‘Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.’ Drat him—now she felt guilty as well as confused. Ross was proving nothing if not autocratic; he did not appear to have given the question of the existing servants any thought at all. Surely he would not just arrive and turn them out?
    He came to a halt in front of a long, low white-washed building with a statue of a red lion projecting out over the street. ‘Where are your possessions, Perrott?’
    ‘At my lodgings, my lord, not ten minutes away.’
    ‘Then fetch them. We leave at one.’
    Meg followed Ross inside, her porter at her heels, to find him already ordering a private parlour and a noon meal. The landlord quite obviously realised who he was, from the obsequious my lords that peppered every sentence.
    ‘Toadeater,’ Ross snarled before the parlour door had quite closed on them. ‘Well, Mrs Halgate? And why are you looking at me as though I’ve grown another head?’
    ‘Because I am so confused, you may as well have done! You really are the most outrageous, arrogant man, Ross Brandon.’ Meg put down her reticule and stood right in front of him. ‘I say goodbye to Major Brandon and the next moment Lord Brandon is taking over my life. Has it not occurred to you that there will alreadybe a valet and a housekeeper and that she will not be best pleased to have some unknown assistant wished on her? You have no idea if I will be halfway competent to run whatever sort of establishment you are dragging me off to, and neither do I, come to that. I told you I would not accept money—’
    ‘I did not drag you.’
    ‘Well, I could hardly stand there in the middle of the employment exchange and say, “This is so sudden, my lord. One moment we are sleeping in the same bed and the next you are employing me”, now could I? I expect I will be back there tomorrow looking for a proper position, so I needed to leave with some dignity. Why make me go through this farce when you know I need to earn some money quickly? And why,’ she added, recalling another grievance, ‘did you not tell me you are a baron?’
    ‘Because I do not want to be a damned baron,’ he snapped back. ‘And because I want you.’
    There was no chance to step back and no hope, once Ross’s hands had banded on her upper arms, of pulling free. She was lifted up on her toes as he bent his head and then he was kissing her as though to bend her to his will by sheer force of his sexuality. His tongue was possessing her mouth, his hips were thrust against hers, leaving her in absolutely no doubt that he was more than ready to simply toss her on to the couch and take her, and the deep growl that vibrated through her spoke of nothing but a savage need that he was barely containing.

Chapter Seven
    R oss showed no sign of needing to draw breath. Hanging in his grasp, Meg was afraid,

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