Free Kathryn Smith by For the First Time Page B

benefit and had her hair twisted into a neat coil on the back of her head. Devlin preferred it piled up on top of her head with little bits curling free as it had been the night before. What he really wanted was to see the thick auburn mass unbound, but that wasn’t likely to happen.
    “Good morning, everyone,” she said cheerily as she crossed to the sideboard. Obviously she had been up for some time as well. She hadn’t the look of someone who had just gotten out of bed.
    Now there was something he’d like to see as well. Blythe as she woke up in the morning.
    It was enough to make a man hard just picturing it.
    She joined them at the table with a plate piled almost as high as Devlin’s own and surprised him by taking the empty seat beside him. There were other vacant chairs around the table, why sit next to him?
    “You are not going to eat all that, are you?” Carny’s incredulity was barely contained, and Devlin could have slapped him for it, were it not for the fact that Carny looked as though he’d like to slap himself.
    Blythe regarded him coolly, despite the heightened color in her cheeks. “Why yes, I am. I make it a point to never take or ask for something I do not want.”
    There was a deeper meaning in her words. There had to be or Carny wouldn’t have flushed as he did. Was Blythe referring to their broken engagement? Was it indeed Carny who had done the jilting?
    Stupid idiot.
    Lady Blythe ate with as much gusto as she danced. That she enjoyed food was obvious with every ecstasy-filled bite. She actually closed her eyes in rapture at the bacon. It was marvelous to watch. And she drank enough tea to satisfy a whole regiment.
    “Are there any more scones?” she asked a few moments later when half her plate had been cleaned.
    Varya and Teresa laughed, but Lady Westwood looked at her as though she couldn’t believe her ears.
    “No. They are all gone,” Miles replied with a grin. “Besides, you have yet to finish what is on your plate.”
    “I cannot believe she has eaten as much as she has!” Lady Westwood exclaimed. It wasn’t said maliciously, but it might as well have been, given the flush that crept up Blythe’s cheeks.
    Devlin nudged her with his elbow. “You can have half of mine, Lady Blythe.”
    She turned to face him, and at that moment Devlin knew what it was to be a god. The smile she gave him was the closest he had ever come to being worshipped.
    “Thank you, Mr. Ryland.”
    As she took the scone from him, their gazes met and held. Devlin didn’t know what she could see in his eyes, but he hoped she knew that he didn’t care how much she ate as long as she enjoyed it. He would rather have her as she was—healthy and round—than thin and sickly looking like Lady Westwood and others of her set.
    After Blythe had finished everything on her plate and after some of the other guests had risen for the day, the group of them strolled outside, all of the ladies save for Blythe shielding their delicate complexions with bonnets as well as parasols.
    “Miles hates my hat,” she replied when Devlin asked why she didn’t wear protection from the sun’s tanning rays.“And I despise bonnets. They make me feel like I have blinders on.”
    He laughed and offered her his hat if she wanted it. It was old and slightly battered, but it was better than the one she favored, if it was the one he had seen her in. She thought about it for a moment, but declined. Miles would no doubt pitch a fit.
    The shooting targets were arranged on the west lawn, facing away from the house and far enough away that safety needn’t be an issue. Devlin watched with interest as different men lined up for a chance to display their skill with a rifle. Most of them were hunters and decent shots. A few were former soldiers as well, which gave them a slight advantage. Good shots, all of them. Many struck the center of the target or near it several times—good odds considering that rifles weren’t always exactly