Read Midsummer Eve at Rookery End for Free Online Page B

comments and manner offensive.”
    Sir Benedict, looking into a pair of achingly familiar grey eyes which sparkled with indignation instead of their usual humour, felt distinctly unsettled. Already stirred by Deborah’s voluptuous body pressed against his, he was surprised to discover she was alone after all. But even if he had wronged her on this occasion, he was certain that she generally played the coquette – he had the broken heart to prove it.
    In the intervening years, her victims must have been legion because Miss King was indeed a siren’s daughter. She was built on statuesque lines yet she moved with such grace that she seemed to glide across the floor. Added to this, rare intelligence, a dulcet voice and pretty face, combined with the curves of a goddess, endowed Deborah King with a beguiling charm, and he pondered grimly on the paradox of how so cruel a lady could look so adorable. She had bewitched him in the past and Sir Benedict, angry at his weakness then and now, replied in a curt voice,
    “Don’t play the innocent, Deborah – I know how fickle you are.”
    She regarded him scornfully. “I suggest you study your own behaviour.”
    “As I expected, you are still an unprincipled jade.” His appreciative but sardonic gaze ran over her. “One thing puzzles me: I looked in the newspapers for notice of your marriage and yet it did not appear. Why have you never married? I’m surprised that you haven’t duped some rich fool into wedlock by now.”
    Another gasp escaped Deborah and in reply she administered a ringing slap to his cheek. “A true gentleman would never address a lady in that fashion. You have not changed either, sir!”
    His expression altered and a flush spread across his cheeks under the tan. “I deserved that,” he muttered, half to himself, half to his companion. “Forgive me – that was an abominable thing to say. My temper is uncertain this evening. I have already had to apologize to Miss Tonbridge.”
    “You have seen Charley?” said Deborah in surprise.
    “She was guarding the door. Her attitude was almost as vitriolic as yours.”
    “I’m surprised she let you pass.”
    “I gave her little choice,” he admitted with a slight smile. “I wanted to see you.”
    “What,” began Deborah in a scathing voice, “could we possibly have to say to each other? No man is lower in my estimation than you, Sir Benedict. The most licentious rake would not have treated a woman as despicably as you treated me. I only wish I’d had the opportunity to plant you a facer!”
    “You have not lost your spirit, I see.”
    “I have needed every ounce of it.” Deborah turned away, a quiver of emotion in her voice. “I-I heard you had left England. Where did you go?”
    “To India. I wanted to get as far away as possible.”
    “That I can believe,” she murmured.
    “I’m surprised you are interested in what became of me.” He shrugged and continued. “As I said, I journeyed to India and once there, worked for the East India Company. The relationship proved a successful one and I made my fortune, only returning to England last month. Shortly afterwards, I received an invitation from the Allinghams to attend their Midsummer ball. The ton holds little interest for me, but at the last moment something prompted me to attend. Now I am glad I did–”
    “So you can insult me?” she retorted.
    “No, so I can lay some ghosts to rest.” His mouth twisted in a bitter smile and, goaded beyond endurance by Deborah’s nearness and her deceptively innocent mien, Sir Benedict cried, “You are a heartless, conniving little baggage, Deborah, but, God help me, I have found no one to match you in the intervening years. You have ruined me for other women! Whenever I dared hope I might learn to love again, your image came back to mock me.” Running his fingers through his hair in exasperation, he began to pace back and forth. “I wanted to revile you for duping me, to hate you for deserting me,