Read A Wild Night's Bride for Free Online Page B

beautiful and mysterious woman or the drink.
    “Indeed,” she answered. “It is much like Rome. Caligula’s Rome, is it not?” He noted the wry twist to her lips, lovely lips at that. Her tone clearly indicated little fascination with the scene of decadent debauchery. “You don’t find it entertaining either?” she asked, confirming his thoughts.
    “Not particularly.” Taking care with the Ls, he managed another brief but intelligible response. “I am no Sybarite and, thus, have no taste for such things.”
    “Truly?” Blue eyes behind the feathered mask raked over him with renewed interest. “Then why have you come?”
    “I am with a friend.”
    “On the contrary, you are quite alone,” she observed with a hint of wit that made him smile.
    “My friend is otherwise...engaged.” There now, progress at last, almost a complete sentence. The numbness in his mouth had begun to dissipate. His body felt light and his spirit languid and more at ease than he’d felt since his arrival. “Would you care to take some air?” he asked, suddenly emboldened. “The west side of this house has quite a lovely garden.”
    She seemed to consider his proffered arm with hesitation. “I am not what you think...”
    “For hire?” he volunteered. “I had no such thoughts. Pray, disabuse yourself that I have designs on your person, madam. I only desire a companion for a brief escape out of doors.” Escape was right. The drink had gone completely to his head. He felt queasy, slightly woozy, and suddenly stifled by the perfumed scent of flowers and the jungle of greenery.
    ***
    Tilting her head, Phoebe assessed the large gentleman with greater scrutiny, deciding he was quite handsome in an unassuming sort of way. She guessed his age in the midthirties. His clothing was plain but well-cut with minimal ornamentation. He also displayed no outward signs of debauchery. His manners were impeccable, unusual enough under the circumstances, but moreover, he had addressed her with respect, most surprising in these circumstances. “In that case...” She smiled. “Perhaps just a short stroll.”
    “It would be my honor.” He bowed formally and placed her hand on his sleeve. Phoebe didn’t know what had compelled her to accept his invitation to go outside when her entire purpose was to find DeVere who was certainly inside, but she found his lack of guile and self-deprecating demeanor both charming and disarming. Perhaps it was also that he looked so much like a fish out of water, much the way she felt.
    She accepted his arm and exited the house into an enclosed courtyard that while well lit with flambeaux, appeared deserted. They perambulated the moonlit path for an extended time, the strangely companionable silence punctuated only by the crunch of gravel beneath their feet.
    Phoebe couldn’t help slanting frequent glances at his face, a kind face, yet with a strong profile she found unusually attractive. “You must understand that I am not accustomed to private interludes with strangers. I am not a harlot, but an actress, you see.” She added cynically, “Though many deem there is little difference between the two.”
    “I do not judge,” he said.
    “No?” His words were welcoming, the timbre of his voice low and smooth, soothing to her frazzled nerves. His quiet presence seemed to encourage confession but then, perhaps, it was just that it had been so long since she’d had any confidante at all. Her eyes met his hazel ones and held. He had very nice eyes. Sensitive eyes, but she reminded herself she’d been fooled before. “Perhaps you will change your mind when you learn why I am here.” His genteel manner made her feel guilty, as if she had somehow deceived him. “I came for a decided purpose,” she blurted before she could stop herself.
    He turned to face her, placing a warm hand over hers. “Though I wondered what would bring such a lady to a place like this, your reasons are your own, madam. I am only glad of