A Daring Passion

Unable to avoid the inevitable, Josiah slowly turned his head to discover his only child standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

No, not child, he corrected himself. Somehow his Raine had managed to transform herself into a woman while she was being schooled in that damnable French convent.

A remarkably beautiful woman.

As always he was forced to battle a small measure of astonishment.

Although he had been considered a handsome enough fellow in his day, and his long-departed wife had been a pretty maiden, there had been no warning that together they would create a…masterpiece.

There was no other word to describe the young woman standing before him.

Wreathed in the light of the flickering candles, her beauty was luminous, her ivory skin glowing with the perfect sheen of a rare pearl and her dark eyes faintly slanted and surrounded by a lush thicket of lashes that lent an air of smoldering mystery. Her nose was a tiny, straight line that contrasted with the full bow of her mouth. And just beside that lovely mouth was a tiny black mole that seemed deliberately placed to provoke a man’s attention.

At the moment her sweet face was still flushed from sleep and her heavy amber curls were pulled into a simple braid that hung nearly to her waist. With her slender body modestly covered by her threadbare robe she should have appeared a dowdy child. Instead she was as radiant and fresh as an angel.

Josiah gave a rueful shake of his head. When Raine had been but twelve years of age it had nearly broken his heart to fulfill his late wife’s desire to have her daughter schooled at the same convent that she had attended as a child. To have Raine so far from him seemed an unbearable sacrifice.

But he couldn’t deny a small, sensible part of him had been relieved to whisk her from the neighborhood.

Even then she had shown the promise of great beauty, and Josiah had been deeply aware that all too soon the lecherous gazes of the various noblemen would be turning in her direction. They would consider such a delectable morsel within such easy reach an irresistible temptation, and would have spared no expense or effort to lure her into their bed.

No, it had been for the best that she had been locked away from the world’s dangers.

Of course, now that she had returned he could not deny that the old troubles had merely shifted to new troubles.

She might have acquired the sort of mature sophistication that would allow her to resist being seduced, but she possessed no connections, no dowry to tempt a nobleman into considering her in a more permanent role. And just as bothersome, her newfound elegance ensured that she no longer mixed easily with the local farmers and merchants.

She had no ready place among the community, and no mother or sisters to provide her companionship.

Heaving a rueful sigh, Josiah held out his hand.

“Well, well. I suppose it was too much to be hoped such commotion would not arouse you, pet. You might as well come in.”

Her finely arched brows drew together as she moved toward his chair.

“You have been injured.”

“That seems to be the universal agreement,” he said, turning his head to regard the silent servant. “Foster, pour me a brandy and then tend to my horse.”

“Thank the Lord,” the man muttered as he readily moved to pull a bottle of brandy and a glass from the nearby cabinet. Leaving them on the table, he turned for the door.

“Foster,” Josiah called softly.

“Aye?”

“Make sure there is no evidence from this night’s work. Our stable is bound to receive more than its share of interest over the next few days.”

Foster gave a slow nod. “The magistrate won’t find so much as a mouse dropping when I am through.”

“Magistrate?” Raine demanded as Foster slipped through the door and closed it behind him.

“It’s a long and rather tedious story, I fear.”

His daughter gave a lift of her brows. “Actually I suspect that it will be quite fascinating.”

Josiah grimaced. “Fascinating, perhaps, but at the moment I prefer that you fetch a needle and thread and sew your poor father back together again.” His hands tightened on the arms of his chair as he battled a wave of pain. “Unless you intend to stand there and watch me bleed to death?”

She gazed at him for a long moment, not missing the sweat that lightly coated his strained features before she gave a slow nod of her head.