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

Jack snorted in disgust. “You are no spinster, so take it off at once and do not let me see the damned thing again.”

“I am indeed a spinster and I have every intention of wearing this cap, whether you like it or not.” Kate glared at Jack, hands on her hips.

“Oh, do you, indeed?”

Francis smiled, recognising the signs—Jack was in a fine temper, but doing his best to hold it back. Jack moved closer. Kate backed away warily, clutching the cap to her head protectively. Francis decided it was time to make his move.

“Pray forgive my interruption—no, no, continue, do. I would hate to spoil your conversation.” He seated himself, clearly with every expectation of being entertained. ‘ T think you were about to make a dive for Miss Farleigh’s cap, old man,” he prompted helpfully.

Kate glanced from Francis’s polite expression to Jack’s black frown and began to giggle. Francis’s smile broadened into a grin. Jack dashed his hand angrily through his hair.

“Damn you, Francis,” he swore, then his sense of humour began to get the better of him. The twitching of his lips, so clearly at odds with his black frown, provoked his observers to further mirth, and finally he too joined in the laughter.

At last Kate stood up, and immediately Francis and Jack rose to their feet. “Please excuse me,” she said, “but I have things to do.”

“So do I,” agreed Jack, and before she knew what he was about he had snatched the offending cap off her head and tossed it into the fire. “That’s better.” He grinned triumphantly.

“Oh! You wretch!” exclaimed Kate.

“It was an abomination and the only thing to do with abominations is to burn them. Don’t you agree, Francis?”

Francis bowed towards Kate. “Forgive my perfidy, Miss Farleigh, but, much as I deplore his crude methods, that cap was indeed an abomination and not, therefore, to be borne by any man with an eye for beauty. Your hair is quite, quite lovely and should never be hidden.”

Kate blushed.

Jack looked at his friend through narrowed eyes. “Yes, well, I think you have said quite enough, Francis. It is time you took yourself off. Er. . .isn’t that Toby calling you?”

Francis smiled. “Wonderful hearing you must have, dear boy,” he murmured. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

Jack glowered and thrust him out the door. He turned to Kate, but encountered such a fiery look from the sparkling grey-green eyes that he decided his duty lay with his guests. He followed Francis out to the hall, where they found Mr Lennox.

“Fine morning for a ride, Jack, don’t you think?”

“Excellent idea,” Jack agreed, his good mood restored, and, after shouting for Sir Toby to join them, the foursome headed towards the stables.

It was a crisp, sunny morning, ideal for riding. Wisps of fog and remnants of snow lingered in the shadowy hollows, waiting to be burnt up when the bright sun finally discovered them. The horses were in fine fettle and snorted and pranced, eager to be out and moving, but Francis, Sir Toby and Mr Lennox kept their mounts well reined in, unsure of Jack’s capabilities and not wanting him to strain his leg. After several minutes of the dreary pace they’d set, Jack became aware of his friends’ strategy.

“Come on, you sluggards!” he shouted. “Race you to the top of that hill.” Recklessly he urged his horse into a gallop. Shouting and laughing, the others followed. It was a mad race and by the end of it all four of them were flushed and breathing heavily.

“By Jove, Jack!” exclaimed Sir Toby excitedly. “I would never have thought it; stap me if you’re not riding damn near as well as ever you did. S’a marvel, I tell you, a marvel!”

“Not quite as well as I used to, I fear,” responded Jack, grinning from ear to ear nevertheless. He stretched his bad leg a little awkwardly and the others became aware of white lines around his mouth, a sign that he was in some pain.

“I say, Jack, you haven’t overdone it, have you?” said Mr Lennox.

“No, no.” He met his friend’s doubting look and grinned ruefully. “Well, perhaps a little, but I couldn’t have you three keeping me wrapped in cotton wool, now could I? Such a pace you’d set, I’d have died of boredom.” The others laughed. “Now, you all ride on, don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’ll take it a little slower now that my blood’s moving again.”

“Yes, go on, you two,” agreed Francis. “I’ll keep Jack company for a bit. My head’s still a trifle delicate from last night, and any more riding like the last episode and I fear the wretched thing will fall off.” The other two laughed as they rode away, but Jack turned and regarded his friend sceptically.

“My poor Francis,” he said in mock-sympathy. “And I always thought you had the hardest head of anyone I knew.”

Francis smiled blandly back at him. “Ah, well, you have the advantage of me by several years, you know. I am nigh on thirty-five.”

They moved forward at a slow canter, chatting as they did so. After some time, the talk ceased and they walked their horses in companionable silence, enjoying the morning, each man absorbed in his own thoughts.

Then Francis chuckled to himself.

Jack turned his head. “What is it?”

Francis shook his head in amusement. “Never thought I’d see you setting up as a milliner.”

“What the hell do you. . .? Oh, that. Stubble it, will you?” mumbled Jack.

But Francis had no intention of dropping it. “It was an ugly enough cap, to be sure, and it made that pretty little thing look like a dowdy, but you acted as if she deliberately wore it to annoy you.”

Jack harrumphed. “She did.”

”Oho. . .so it’s like that, is it?”

Jack glowered. “Like what? She’s my grandmother’s ward, that’s all.”

“And naturally you must supervise her headgear,” agreed Francis sympathetically.

“She was foisted on me by that meddlesome old witch.