Gallant Waif by Anne Gracie (the alpha prince and his bride full story free .txt) 📗

He did not respond, but a slow smile told her the answer and her blush deepened. He’d seen her looking at the nightgown.

“I’ve brought you a letter.” He glanced down at the welter of clothes that covered the bed and the lurking smile widened. Kate followed his gaze. He was looking at the underclothes and nightgowns. Hurriedly she snatched them up and thrust them under the dresses, her cheeks burning.

“Wh…what did you say you wanted?” she muttered, unable to meet his eyes.

“A letter has arrived for you,” he said softly. “And I see that that’s not all.”

Jack couldn’t resist teasing her. The sight of that nightgown sliding sensuously over her skin had caused his body to tighten, imagining her clothed in nothing but that fine translucent silk. And the blush that rose so easily to her cheeks would no doubt be repeated elsewhere on her body. He knew it. And she knew he knew it; he could tell by her loss of composure. Kate Farleigh wasn’t easily rattled, and by God he was going to enjoy it while he could. The little termagant was adorable like this, flushed and embarrassed and uncertain.

“Please give me the letter,” said Kate, still flustered by the amusement in his deep voice. He held it out. She reached for it, but he swiftly raised it out of reach.

“Say ‘thank you’ first,” he drawled, still grinning.

“Give it to me, please,” she repeated, annoyed. The big lummox! Did he think she was going to grapple with him for it? She had been teased by experts—her brothers—and she wasn’t so foolish as to think she could get the better of him by trying to snatch the letter. He was far too tall, for one thing.

In any case, she’d sworn never to let him get his hands on her again. Her encounters with Jack Carstairs were nothing like the tussles she’d had with her brothers. His touch had no brotherly feel about it at all; it made her feel oddly helpless and fluttery inside and it took all her will-power to break away from him.

“I’ve come all the way upstairs to bring it to you. Don’t I deserve something?” he teased, enjoying her discomfiture.

“You deserve something, all right,” she muttered beneath her breath.

He heard her and laughed. “Little wildcat. Here’s your letter, then.” He tossed it on to the bed.

“Thank you. Now please leave.” Kate went pointedly to the door. “And you can take all of your things with you,”

He looked at her in mock-amazement. “My things? What ever do you mean, Miss Farleigh?”

Kate nodded at the pile of clothing on her bed. “All of those. I told you before, I cannot accept such gifts from you.”

He stared at her in exaggerated surprise. “My things? You think these are my things? My dear Miss Farleigh…” He bent and, before Kate could see what he was about, drew the silk nightgown from its hiding place. He held it up against his lean, strong frame.

“You think that this is mine?” His blue eyes quizzed her wickedly. Kate fought against the rising tide of embarrassment that threatened her again.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” she snapped, trying not to smile. The frail wisp of silk only served to emphasise the masculinity of the man. “You know exactly what I mean.”

He let the delicate silk trail through his long brown fingers, then tossed the offending garment to one side. ”But I haven’t offered you these.”

“But—”

“You’ll find that this letter from my grandmother explains everything,” he interrupted smoothly. “It arrived with the rest of these things. It wasn’t my taste that selected these. . .although for once in my life I find myself in total accord with my grandmother.” He smiled, a slow, teasing smile that had Kate fighting those fluttery inner feelings again.

“Your grandmother?”

“Yes. She told me in my letter that she’d sent you some clothing more suited to your position.”

“You mean you didn’t send me all of this?”

“No, indeed. I hope, as a gentleman, I wouldn’t dream of so insulting you.” He added piously, “A lady could certainly not accept such gifts from a gentleman, Miss Farleigh. I am shocked you would even suggest it.” He pursed his mouth primly, his eyes twinkling wickedly.

Kate tried to avoid his gaze. She had been made to feel very foolish. He’d known very well that after their previous discussion of her wardrobe she would jump to the conclusion that he’d sent these things. He might not have actually sent them himself, she realised, but he most certainly was behind his grandmother’s charitable actions.

“But I cannot—”

“I hope you’re not suggesting there is any impropriety attached to an elderly lady buying a few bits and pieces for the daughter of her godchild?” he interrupted in a cool voice. “Her own mantua-maker made them from measurements Smithers took from your old clothes.”

Kate hadn’t realised Lady Cahill had taken so much trouble. She felt a little embarrassed, but she didn’t want to back down while he was standing over her like this. “No… but. . . it is too much…too generous…”

His face hardened, his eyes lost their twinkle.

“Understand me, Miss Farleigh. These things are from my grandmother and you can and will accept them!”

Kate resented his tone. “You have no right to tell me what I may or may not accept.”

“I care nothing for that. You will oblige me by appearing in one of these dresses within the half-hour.” Lord! The chit was stubborn.

“I will do nothing of the sort,” Kate responded defiantly. “I resent your high-handed manner, sir, and take leave to tell you I will not wear these clothes.”

He took two menacing steps towards her and she skittered away out of his reach. “Understand me, miss! You will wear these new clothes and burn the old ones!”

“Oh, will I, indeed?” She pulled a face.

Jack took his watch out of his pocket and glanced at it. “You’ll dress yourself in one of those new dresses within the half-hour, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or, Miss Katherine Farleigh, I will