Regret Not a Moment Read Online Free

Regret Not a Moment
Book: Regret Not a Moment Read Online Free
Author: Nicole McGehee
Tags: Romance, Nora Roberts, Historical Romance, World War II, London, Southern, New York, Paris, Adultery, Virginia, wealthy, Horse Racing, Fashion, aristocrat, Danielle Steel, debbie macomber, Cairo, Julian Fellowes, Marion Davies, Lucette Lagnado, Maeve Binchy, Thoroughbred, plantation, prejudice, Dick Francis, Iris Johansen, Joanna Trollope, Countess, glamorous, Downton, Kentucky Derby, jude deveraux, Phillipa Gregory, Hearst castle
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exciting sport.” In the brisk afternoon air, the atmosphere between them was less charged. They could relax somewhat, get to know each other.
    The stables were some distance from the house and it was a cool day, so Devon walked down the flagstone path at a speed that had John hurrying to keep up. Even so, John absorbed with interest the details of the meticulous grounds. The path’s boxwood border was carefully trimmed so that not a leaf was out of place. In front of the hedge, flanking the little path, was a perennial flower bed, artfully designed so that something was almost always in bloom no matter what the season. John paused a moment and turned back toward the house, appreciating the casual richness of the ivy growing over the back portico and up the chimney, of the Palladian windows that graced the facade of the structure. Everything about the Richmond home bespoke quiet elegance, order, and care. There was nothing ostentatious about Evergreen—it had a comfortable, cozy aspect despite its size—but every detail was of the highest quality. And there was serenity to the place that John found a marked contrast to New York.
    “What do you do here for excitement, Miss Richmond?” asked Alexander.
    Devon reflected for a moment. “I’m not sure how to answer. Excitement isn’t necessarily what we seek here. We travel for that,” Devon added with a smile.
    “You seem a very intelligent young woman. What do you do to occupy your time?”
    “Well, for a while I was away at school, so I’ve enjoyed becoming reacquainted with our place.”
    John looked around him appreciatively. Freshly painted white fences in perfect repair stretched over rolling green hills. A small pond in a valley about half a mile away mirrored graceful weeping willows and the deep blue sky. Several horses, their coats gleaming in the sun, grazed in another field filled with yellow flowers.
    Following his gaze, Devon remarked, “Those always bloom here in autumn. They make my sister sneeze terribly.”
    “Does your sister live nearby?”
    “No, she lives in Paris now. Her husband is a diplomat.”
    “And what do you do when you are here?”
    “Mostly I ride. I also train my own horses.” Devon paused before continuing, “After our conversation at the Magraths’, I can’t help feeling that you seem unusually worried about the possibility that I may be vegetating here, Mr. Alexander. Is there a reason for that?”
    Actually, Alexander expected someone as intriguing as Devon to be occupied with intriguing pastimes. That she did nothing that he classified as exceptional was a slight disappointment to him. “No… no. You just don’t seem like the sort of person who would be content with life in the country.”
    Devon stopped, turned to face John, and looked keenly at him. Under her scrutiny, he felt embarrassed by his judgmental attitude. “I suppose I know very little about it,” he admitted, looking down.
    His embarrassment amused Devon, who said coolly but gently, “Then we’ll have to familiarize you with the charms of country life. That way, you can make educated judgments about its attributes relative to city living.”
    “You make me feel quite provincial,” said John in an apologetic tone, looking at her from under his brows. “Can you forgive my narrowmindedness?”
    Devon could not suppress a smile. “If you’ll pardon me for making a generality,” she said, not unkindly, “I find that many New Yorkers share your outlook. They can’t believe that there is intellectual stimulation outside Manhattan, except, of course, in France or England. As you’ve pointed out, it is a provincial point of view.” Devon concluded her words as they arrived at the stable, a massive white wooden structure with room for at least forty horses. Like the rest of the farm, it was spotless. “In fact, I’ll show you a perfect example right now of how stimulating country life can be,” she added, her smile growing larger.
    Devon led John
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