Free The Riddle of the Reluctant Rake by Patricia Veryan

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    â€œOoh!” shrilled Miss Hall, lifting her right hand concealingly. “You’re looking! ”
    Adair wrenched his fascinated gaze away. Reddening, he protested, “For heaven’s sake, woman! I’ve seen more revealed in—or out of—an evening gown! Do try not to—”
    The outer door crashed open.
    An enraged masculine voice roared, “Be damned if he ain’t at it again!”
    Springing up, Adair turned quickly, but he had not the slightest chance to avoid Rufus Prior’s flying fist.
    *   *   *
    â€œI may have been mistook, this time,” growled Prior, “but he warrants a deal more than a bloody nose.”
    â€œIf this is your cottage,” said Adair stuffily, “dare one hope you’ve some blankets?”
    â€œFor goodness’ sake, take him out and put some snow down his back,” said Lady Abigail Prior, turning from a soft-voiced exchange with her granddaughter to cast a shuddering glance at Adair.
    â€œI’ve blankets for the ladies, not you,” said Prior, opening a cupboard that appeared to be stocked with bottles, a large bowl of apples, some candles and several untidily folded blankets.
    Adair held Prior’s handkerchief to his streaming nose and observed that the ladies were indoors with a fire to warm them. “My horse is not. I’ll take one of those, if you please.”
    Prior did not please, and when Adair ignored his belligerence and commandeered a blanket, he grabbed for his coat pocket, only to pause and look chagrined.
    â€œMiss Hall took your pistol, alas,” said Adair mockingly.
    â€œAnd we want no more bloodshed tonight,” said Lady Abigail. “Do as the Colonel says, Rufus. We’re properly marooned and the beasts have little protection out there. Oh, and you’ll find a fruitcake in my coach. I’ve been meaning to take it down to Mrs. Flynn in the village.”
    â€œFor how long?” Prior tossed three more blankets at Adair and unearthed a lantern.
    Her ladyship frowned thoughtfully. “Long enough for it to be nicely aged, but if you don’t care for it, there will be that much more for the rest of us.”
    Swinging the door open and admitting an icy blast, Prior said softly, “You’re my prisoner, Adair. Keep it in mind.”
    â€œAt least I have a mind.” Adair slammed the door shut, and bowing to the teeth of the wind shouted, “You’ve evidently lost yours! Why bring the old lady out on such a night?”
    â€œYou don’t know my grandmama! You may thank your stars you were flat on your back when she saw Cecily and thought you’d shot her! She was ready to claw your eyes out!”
    This, Adair did not doubt, and he said nothing while they unsaddled Toreador and Miss Hall’s mount and led Prior’s pair from between the shafts of his light travelling-coach. Fortunately, there was a bin of oats in the lean-to, and Adair was less anxious when Toreador had been rubbed down and was munching contentedly, with a blanket tied over him.
    Prior’s remark turned his thoughts back to Lady Abigail’s arrival. He had been somewhat confused at that moment, but he’d heard her screech of fury, followed—mercifully—by Miss Hall’s admission that she had “accidentally dropped” the pistol and that he had brought her to the cottage. Prior had been disgusted by his cousin’s blunder, but the old lady had expressed her gratitude for Adair’s efforts and pointed out that he could very well have ridden off and left Cecily in the snow. Shocked, he’d protested, “As if I would have done such a thing!” Prior had laughed scornfully, but both ladies had watched Adair in such a considering way that he’d begun to hope—
    He howled as Prior rammed a large snowball down the back of his neck so forcefully that he was driven to his knees.
    â€œJust trying to help your