Читать книгу The Louise Allen Collection - Louise Allen - Страница 6

The previously assured figure before him seemed to shrink back into herself. “My lord, I should tell you…I am five foot ten and one quarter inches tall.”

“Indeed, ma’am? I am six foot three. And one half,” he added after a moment’s thought. “I would be charmed to stand here all day exchanging shoe, glove and hat sizes, but I really feel we should be making a start.”

There was a muffled choke of laughter from her maid behind her and Decima realized she was being teased. Teased about her height! Why, no one did that; no one considered it grounds for anything but the deepest shame and gloom.

He swept her up. “Can you put your arm around my neck?” he asked.

Decima did as she was bid. The viscount turned and began to wade back through the snowdrifts. The movement of his torso against her body was…disturbing. Something was making her feel quite strange inside: melting and flustered.

For heaven’s sake, Decima, pull yourself together!

The Viscount’s Betrothal

Harlequin^® Historical