The Eligible Miss Elliott

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Soon Rosalind and Philip find more happiness in their romantic companionship than their elusive mission. And that happiness soon develops into love.

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Rosalind is surprised to learn of his success and delighted that her money is a non-issue. At the same time their happiness is threatened, they manage to bring their elderly relatives together again to renew their friendship. Now Rosalind and Philip decide to outwit the busybodies and prevent scandal, dishonor, and humiliation.

Rosalind does not deserve to be the brunt of nasty rumors. How will they be able to meet another challenge and be together without misgivings? Create Widget.

About Victoria Hinshaw. Learn more about Victoria Hinshaw. Also by This Author. Report this book. Reason for report: — Select a reason — Book is or contains spam Book infringes copyright Same content is published elsewhere with different author for ex. You need have nothing to do with either the captain or Lady Isiline. The dogs continued to wiggle and beg but, to Rosalind's amazement, her grandmother fumed on, too agitated to attend to her pets. Clearly Lady Rotherford's sad rift with her old friend stung painfully.

Their families had been friends for decades. The Captain Chadwell Grandmama was so horrified about had been a childhood playmate of Rosalind's. How dare they come to Bath? Lady Rotherford clutched Rosalind's arm. You have not seen Lady Isiline Aldercote since you were just a child, but she has become an utter antidote. Back then, Philip was merely a very naughty lad, though already a disgrace to his family.

Not that any of those Aldercotes live up to their breeding. Grandmother, everyone comes to Bath. Perhaps it was time to heal the schism once and for all, Rosalind thought. Bringing them together again, curing their disgust of one another would not be easy. From the depth of her grandmother's distress, Rosalind could see how much Lady Rotherford missed her lifelong friend.

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You were the best of friends with Lady Isiline, were you not? Those were the days before I knew her true character. As for her nephew, being away in uncivilized parts of the globe in the Navy must have well fit his character. Despicable ruffian. He is just in the next room. I am surprised to hear you speak so of one of the King's own officers. Lady Rotherford in her distraction let go of Popsy, who plopped to the floor and scampered off.

Oh, catch them, Rosalind! Lady Rotherford waved her lace-mittened hands in the air. They are such fragile creatures. Rosalind dropped her reticule and dashed after the dogs. Fragile, nonsense. They are about as fragile as a pair of draught horses. At the end of the salon, the dogs tore through the barely ajar double doors and into the library, heading directly for the entrance to the garden. Rosalind shoved one door aside and ran after them. The little beasts were so spoiled they never behaved, and she always was the one who had to give chase.

The spaniels sped through the door and down the steps. The man in the garden reached down and scooped up one unruly dog. He thrust the spaniel into her arms and started after the other dog, which had bolted past him in a flash and scampered onto the garden's gravel path. She had only a brief view of his face, but she would have known him anywhere. This was how Philip Chadwell grew up, tall, wide-shouldered, with a voice like a smooth cello. And a face that was not quite handsome but forcefully compelling in a way that easily met the physical requirements for the appellation of rakehell.

Rosalind handed Popsy into Mr. Clarence's arms and hastened down the steps. Pip, his head cocked to one side and his tail wagging furiously, stood a few feet from Chadwell, waiting for him to give chase. Pip barked twice, obviously delighted to be out-of-doors, and darted away as soon as the captain took a step.

Rosalind took the other side of the garden and approached the spaniel around a manicured border surrounding a tall urn. She was one step away from seizing him when Pip whirled around and flashed by her going the opposite direction. You slyboots! Rosalind halted, confused about whether to keep running after him or coax him into her clutches. The dog stopped precisely halfway around the circular border from her, wagged his plumed tail and barked again.

His favorite game She took a deep breath and pushed her bonnet back and off her head.

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Elbows wide and fists at her waist, she stared at the silly beast. Come here, Pip, this very moment.

Her stern voice only caused the dog to jump and paw the air with his short front legs, then bark even harder. He was ready to play. It's a full fledged mutiny, I'd say. But if you go one way and I go the other, we'll capture the scoundrel. Captain Chadwell's deep voice carried a whiff of humor, and she looked at him with more than a touch of irritation. He was laughing at her again, exactly as he had done years and years ago. Just as he had done when he chased her with a toad across the park at Rotherford House when she was about eight years old.

For a moment they stared across the hedges at each other. With a twinge of amusement, she saw a look of recognition. His eyes were deep gray with flecks of green that must glow when he was on the sunlit sea. His dark hair was ruffled, his clothing undistinguished, yet he had an unmistakable aura of strength and authority. Just as she was about to make the capture, Pip dived into the bushes, emerging beside a clump of daisies which he promptly flattened, hopping up and down with a look of pure joy in his bulging dark eyes. Rosalind stopped beside Captain Chadwell, flustered and quite disheveled.

She felt inappropriately warm and appropriately wary, uncomfortably conscious of both her disarray and her closeness to him. Try this. He took out a large white handkerchief, knotted it, and tucking the ends into the knot, gave it to Rosalind. Here, Pip. She waved the makeshift ball at the dog then tossed it toward the house. Pip raced toward it and pounced. Captain Chadwell snatched him up and tried to dislodge the once-pristine linen from between Pip's jaws.

Without success. A mere scrap, sacrificed to the cause. He handed her the dog and bowed. A pleasure to see you again, Rosalind. Her cheeks warmed, and she silently cursed her missish tendency to blush. She very much wished she looked her best, cool and serene in a silken gown instead of hot and rumpled in a wrinkled muslin. I thank you for your gallant rescue, Captain Chadwell. I must go Rosalind dipped a little curtsy and hurried back to the house.

Glancing back more than once, she saw the captain sit on an iron bench, lean back and stretch out his legs. Just inside the library, she handed the panting dog to her grandmother. Pip, you naughty, naughty boy! You've lost your ribbons and you are full of twigs and leaves. Lady Rotherford marched back into the drawing room, keeping up a steady discourse all the way. Pip, I don't know which is worse, your getting all messy or poor Rosalind having to talk with that despicable Chadwell fellow.

Rosalind followed, about to object, but Mr. Clarence, met them in the center of the room. Haeffer is ready to see you, milady. Take care to avoid him, Lady Rotherford said. You have your reputation to think of. She started up the stairs in the company Mr. Still heated from her exertions, Rosalind removed her pelisse and shook out the skirt of her simple sprigged muslin gown.

She took a little brush from her reticule and went to one of the tall mirrors above a gilded pier table. Where to start, she wondered, contemplating the disordered strands of honey-gold hair that floated around her face. She was not sure how long he had been in the room when she finally noticed Captain Chadwell inside the double doors. He lounged against the wall, both hands behind his back, as if studying her.

My thanks for your assistance, Captain. She felt her cheeks glowing, but refused to become rattled again. A little gasp escaped her. No, thank you. My bonnet will cover She felt behind her back. Now what happened to my bonnet? He swung it out from behind him. I rescued it from the lilac branches.

He came closer, but did not offer her the hat. I fear you are no more careful of your apparel than you were as a child.

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She grinned. As I recall, you chased me into that mud in fear of my life.

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That was my best white dress I ruined. He walked over to the sofa and placed the bonnet beside her pelisse. I like you much better without the chapeau anyway. He sauntered over to the mirror and stood beside her. Your grandmother warned you not to speak to me. Grandmother spoke quite out of turn. I think she was flustered to see you in Bath.

Flustered was exactly the way Rosalind felt as she twisted a curl around her finger. I am surprised to be here myself. I am attending my great aunt, Lady Isiline. We arrived last week. Why Bath? She watched him looking at her in the mirror as she ineffectually fiddled with her wind-blown hair. I have several missions to accomplish here. One is to have my sister Lady Charlotte's portrait done. Another is to enroll her in school. Actually, Charlotte is my half-sister, a mere eight years old. My third mission is to escort my aunt to the Pump Room and see to her comfort.

But we have not seen you there.



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