Read The Summer of Wine and Scandal: A Novella for Free Online

you, if you like.”
    He found a maid and placed Miss Martin in her safekeeping, then made his way back to the drawing room. Lochley didn’t fail to notice Georgie’s gaze on him. He gave her an annoyed look and opened the bottle of wine. He poured everyone a glass, including Miss Martin, who had returned by then.
    For once, he did not even taste the wine. What the devil had she meant in saying all men were the same? Had many men tried to seduce her? Had any been successful? She obviously did not have pleasant memories of the interlude. Had she been forced or treated roughly then? The thought made him unaccountably angry. He was so angry, in fact, he drank a second glass of the Regent’s wine—again without tasting it—and gave the Martins a barely civil good-bye.
    ***
    S omeone was coming.
    Caro could hear him or her tromping through the woods, just to the south of where she lay on the bank of the stream staring up at the sky. She sat and turned in the direction of the noise. This was still Martin land, so it might have been her father or brother, except neither of them ever ventured into this untouched patch. And if they did, they would not stumble about like a group of lost schoolchildren.
    Peregrine Lochley stepped into the clearing, and Caro emitted an audible gasp. His head whipped left then right until he spotted her, the expression on his face equally surprised and relieved.
    “Thank God it’s you.”
    She closed her hand into a fist until her fingernails dug into her palm. The pain was very real, which meant she was not sleeping, not dreaming. He actually stood before her, in all his masculine glory, looking very much like he’d stepped out of one of her dreams.
    She’d had several about him in the days that followed the Gages’ dinner party. All of them left her restless, her body aching with need. She blushed now as she remembered the last dream, the one where he’d undressed her slowly, taking his time and kissing every single inch of her bare skin.
    She stood, brushing off her dark green skirts. She wished she’d worn a different dress today. This one was four or five years old and had a wine stain on it. But she’d thought she would be feeding the chickens and collecting eggs, not conversing with Lochley in the woods. She hadn’t even planned to come to the woods until, as she’d collected the eggs, her thoughts had turned back to the dream and she’d decided a brisk walk would do her good.
    She’d paused at the stream for a drink of the cool water, then removed her shoes and dipped her toes in. And then the day had been so lovely, she’d lain down and gazed up at the sky. Why had she ever wanted to leave Hemshawe and this peace for the ugliness of London?
    Love. That was it. She’d thought she’d been in love.
    “I was beginning to think I’d never find my way back,” Lochley said. “Pardon me, I suppose I should have begun with something more customary. Good day, Miss Martin. Fancy meeting you here.”
    She would not play these silly games of etiquette. “Are you lost Mr. Lochley?”
    “Quite. What gave it away?” He stepped closer. “I thought I heard water. My throat feels as if I’ve swallowed half the Sahara.”
    She moved aside, and he knelt on the bank, cupped his hands, and drank. She could not stop her gaze from trailing to his throat and watching the way it moved as he swallowed. Finally, she looked away.
    He splashed water on his face and rose. “That brings back memories,” he said, slicking his hair back.
    Lord, but he was handsome. She looked down and spotted the patch of dirt on his buff trousers. “What will your tailor think, Mr. Lochley?” She gestured to it.
    “He’ll think I was dying of thirst and desperate measures were called for. I know I did not make the best first impression the other day, but I am not a complete arse. I did serve in the military. I drank from streams far less pristine than this.”
    “I would have thought your batman would fetch it