Free Ruined by Moonlight by Emma Wildes Page B

a low melodic sound. “I don’t know. Perhaps. I’ve always liked horses more than embroidery. Does that count?”
    “Of course.” He could picture her in a riding habit, graceful in a sidesaddle, her cheeks tinged pink from an early-morning breeze, golden hair under a plumed hat, slim gloved hands on the reins…She’d be skillful and swift and the most beautiful one there.…
    Damn
.
    “Do you hunt?” He asked it too abruptly.
    “No.”
    She didn’t, he discovered, because she deplored the actual sport, but she liked a canter through the countryside much more than a London ball, and the
ton
’s most-favored beauty smiled at the recollection of summer pastures and bucolic fields. She stated in her concise way, “Someone of your level of sophistication might not understand this, but I am not all that interested in the whirl of society.”
    He understood it quite well actually, and though he spentfar too much time in London because his obligations required it, she might be surprised to learn he also preferred quiet mornings and green pastures and the sound of singing birds. However, defending himself was never something he bothered to do, so he just regarded her with amused consideration. “How unconventional, Lady Elena.”
    “Rather like spending the night in the same bed as the infamous Lord Andrews. That takes
unconventional
to new heights.”
    “Perhaps, but nothing happened.”
    Well, not
nothing
. He’d wanted her and that was
something
, and he wanted her now and that was even more significant. It wasn’t just her beauty either, which was unusual enough to give him pause. Yes, she was desirable, but she also reminded him intellectually of the independent ladies he favored normally, not an ingénue.
    She murmured, “No, nothing has happened.”
    Yet
. The word hung there like a presence in the room.
    Maybe he would have said more but she lifted her hand then to brush a lock of hair away from her cheek. That simple motion emphasized the fullness of her breasts under the material of her robe, and he allowed his gaze—and his mind—to wander just a fraction.
    Indisputably, she was already ruined if anyone discovered their mutual captivity.
    Of course someone would. That was the intent of it all.
    There were quite a few ways to make love and leave the woman a virgin.
    And he’d considered all of them this afternoon.

Chapter 7
    The London Times: Society Section, July 19, 1816
    Has the raven flown away, taking a little bird with him?
    B en set aside the newspaper and contemplated his cup of coffee. He’d forgotten to add cream, he noticed absently, reaching for the small silver pitcher and pouring in a dash, and stirring the already cooling beverage in abstraction. Whitbridge had, as predicted, been unable to keep the disappearance of his daughter a secret. Perhaps if Andrews hadn’t also suddenly gone missing it would have been possible, but Ben had known if they didn’t discover Lady Elena’s whereabouts quickly, word would leak out no matter how discreet they were about the search.
    For a second time he scanned Altamont’s prompt note, his trainer’s script surprisingly neat. Yes, trainers did exercise the strings early, but this was swifter than he’d expected.
    Prescott scoffed at the idea his lordship would carry off Whitbridge’s daughter. More to come soon if further information possible.
    More to come soon?
What the devil did that mean? In the early-morning sunlight he leaned back in his chair and contemplated rakehells and innocent maidens. As far as he could tell the two had no connection whatsoever, or else the rakehell lost his status and was forced to marry the no-longer-so-innocent maiden.…Either way they both were removed from their familiar footing in society.
    “Good morning, my lord.”
    Glancing up, he saw his wife gracefully enter the room, her demeanor composed as if what happened before she’d exited his bedroom the other evening never occurred. This morning she wore a