them.
“
Mon Dieu
, I think we’re going through a village,” Gabrielle gasped with a weak chuckle as she raised her head, glancing toward the window. “Do you think anyone can see in?”
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about appearances!” Laughter, wonderful and carefree, bubbled in his chest. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt so lighthearted, so unrestrained, so much in charity with his fellow man. Distantly, it occurred to him that the true seductive power of Gabrielle de Beaucaire lay in her ability to create this feeling.
“Get off, you wicked creature.” He lifted her off his lap and deposited her on the seat opposite. He shook his head, taking in the wonderful untidy sprawl of her naked limbs, the unruly tangle of that dark red hair asshe smiled her crooked smile, her eyes languorous with satiation.
“For God’s sake, put some clothes on,” he directed, his voice a husky rasp. “You’ll catch your death.”
“And whose fault would that be?” She made no move to obey, just continued smiling at him.
Nathaniel pulled the cloakbag toward him and opened it. “You’re not, I trust, going to have the unmitigated gall to imply that I have any say in your actions.” He riffled through the contents of the bag.
“Only to the extent that you’re the cause of them,” she responded. “I seem to find you irresistible. My riding habit’s in there somewhere.”
Nathaniel looked up, his eyes simply appraising. Then he shook his head in resignation. “The feeling is reciprocal, it seems. Are there undergarments in here, or do you always go without them?”
“Only when they might be a hindrance,” she said with a serene smile. “I couldn’t see much point wearing them last night, and your departure was so precipitate, I didn’t have time to change my clothes this morning.”
There was a hint of reproof in her voice as she said this.
Nathaniel pulled out a silk chemise and a pair of pantalettes. “Put these on.” He held them out to her. Then he said with some constraint, “I felt I’d yielded sufficiently to temptation. Perhaps I should have said something—”
“Running off like that was distinctly ungentlemanly … not to put too fine a point on it,” Gabrielle interrupted as her head emerged from the neck of the chemise.
“Perhaps so.” Nathaniel leaned forward and began to do up the buttons at her throat. “But you made it very clear that you were responsible for your own actions. I didn’t feel it necessary to tell you of my plans. They were made well before you arrived in my bed.”
She took the drawers he handed her and slippedthem over her feet, raising her hips to pull them up. “Well, have you agreed to amend them?” She pulled on the stockings he held out.
Nathaniel lifted her right leg and slipped a lace-trimmed garter up to her thigh, and then served the left leg similarly, his hands smoothing over the muscled roundness of her calves, the satin softness of her inner thighs.
“It would seem so,” he said with a wry smile, handing her a clean shirt and the skirt of her habit.
“Good,” Gabrielle declared with a nod of satisfaction. She fastened the buttons of the shirt and slipped into the skirt, buttoning the waistband. “We shall have a game of passion … an interlude. No promises.”
“And where will people think you are?”
She shrugged into her jacket. “Georgie knows. She’s the only person who needs to know. And she’s no prude. I’m no virginal innocent, Lord Praed. And I rule my own life.”
“I don’t question it,” Nathaniel said. “My neighbors will look askance, however, at a woman sharing my roof so flagrantly.”
Gabrielle grinned. “Somehow, Lord Praed, I don’t believe you give a tinker’s damn what your neighbors think. And I certainly don’t. They don’t know me from Eve and never will.”
It was perfectly true. Since Helen’s death, Nathaniel had as little to do with his county neighbors as possible. He
“
Mon Dieu
, I think we’re going through a village,” Gabrielle gasped with a weak chuckle as she raised her head, glancing toward the window. “Do you think anyone can see in?”
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about appearances!” Laughter, wonderful and carefree, bubbled in his chest. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt so lighthearted, so unrestrained, so much in charity with his fellow man. Distantly, it occurred to him that the true seductive power of Gabrielle de Beaucaire lay in her ability to create this feeling.
“Get off, you wicked creature.” He lifted her off his lap and deposited her on the seat opposite. He shook his head, taking in the wonderful untidy sprawl of her naked limbs, the unruly tangle of that dark red hair asshe smiled her crooked smile, her eyes languorous with satiation.
“For God’s sake, put some clothes on,” he directed, his voice a husky rasp. “You’ll catch your death.”
“And whose fault would that be?” She made no move to obey, just continued smiling at him.
Nathaniel pulled the cloakbag toward him and opened it. “You’re not, I trust, going to have the unmitigated gall to imply that I have any say in your actions.” He riffled through the contents of the bag.
“Only to the extent that you’re the cause of them,” she responded. “I seem to find you irresistible. My riding habit’s in there somewhere.”
Nathaniel looked up, his eyes simply appraising. Then he shook his head in resignation. “The feeling is reciprocal, it seems. Are there undergarments in here, or do you always go without them?”
“Only when they might be a hindrance,” she said with a serene smile. “I couldn’t see much point wearing them last night, and your departure was so precipitate, I didn’t have time to change my clothes this morning.”
There was a hint of reproof in her voice as she said this.
Nathaniel pulled out a silk chemise and a pair of pantalettes. “Put these on.” He held them out to her. Then he said with some constraint, “I felt I’d yielded sufficiently to temptation. Perhaps I should have said something—”
“Running off like that was distinctly ungentlemanly … not to put too fine a point on it,” Gabrielle interrupted as her head emerged from the neck of the chemise.
“Perhaps so.” Nathaniel leaned forward and began to do up the buttons at her throat. “But you made it very clear that you were responsible for your own actions. I didn’t feel it necessary to tell you of my plans. They were made well before you arrived in my bed.”
She took the drawers he handed her and slippedthem over her feet, raising her hips to pull them up. “Well, have you agreed to amend them?” She pulled on the stockings he held out.
Nathaniel lifted her right leg and slipped a lace-trimmed garter up to her thigh, and then served the left leg similarly, his hands smoothing over the muscled roundness of her calves, the satin softness of her inner thighs.
“It would seem so,” he said with a wry smile, handing her a clean shirt and the skirt of her habit.
“Good,” Gabrielle declared with a nod of satisfaction. She fastened the buttons of the shirt and slipped into the skirt, buttoning the waistband. “We shall have a game of passion … an interlude. No promises.”
“And where will people think you are?”
She shrugged into her jacket. “Georgie knows. She’s the only person who needs to know. And she’s no prude. I’m no virginal innocent, Lord Praed. And I rule my own life.”
“I don’t question it,” Nathaniel said. “My neighbors will look askance, however, at a woman sharing my roof so flagrantly.”
Gabrielle grinned. “Somehow, Lord Praed, I don’t believe you give a tinker’s damn what your neighbors think. And I certainly don’t. They don’t know me from Eve and never will.”
It was perfectly true. Since Helen’s death, Nathaniel had as little to do with his county neighbors as possible. He
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