Loving A Lost Lord. Mary Jo Putney

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СКАЧАТЬ but the embrace was definitely Adam.

      “My poor darling,” he said softly. “You’ve had a very bad few weeks. I’m sorry that I startled you so.”

      She burrowed against his chest, painfully grateful for his support. “I…I still haven’t quite accepted that Papa is gone,” she explained. “If I had seen him dead, it would be different, but hearing a report isn’t the same.”

      As Adam stroked her hair, she realized there was something unfamiliar in the way he held her. The embrace wasn’t lust, and it was more than the comfort of a friend. It was…intimacy? Adam thought of himself as her husband, and he was acting with a protective tenderness that took for granted the fact that he had a right to hold her.

      The thought was as disturbing as his touch was pleasant. He moved so naturally into the space of a husband that she had to wonder if he really did have a wife somewhere. A wife who was as desperate to learn his fate as Mariah was desperate to be truly certain what had happened to her father.

      Shielding her thoughts, she moved away from him. He scooped up the other scones before Turk could eat them. The scones were still warm as he offered her one. “How did you learn of your father’s death? Is there a chance the report was wrong?”

      “I heard the news from George Burke.” Seeing Adam’s expression, she smiled humorlessly. “No, he’s not a reliable source, but he had the ring my father wore all the time. It was convincing.”

      “Having met the man, it wouldn’t surprise me to hear that he stole the ring,” Adam said before biting into his scone.

      “He’s probably capable of that, but soon after I received a letter from our London solicitor confirming Papa’s death.” She bit hard into her scone, chewed thoughtfully, then said, “The most convincing proof is that I haven’t heard from my father in so long. He had been writing me several times a week. Then…nothing. He simply wouldn’t stop writing like that if he were well.” She drew a shuddering breath. “I do believe he’s dead, yet it seemed perfectly natural that he come riding toward me on Turk.”

      Adam ate the last of his scone. “I think it’s natural to hope against hope that a mistake has been made. That tragedy can’t strike us.”

      “Do you know that from experience, or are you just wise?”

      He looked thoughtful. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t gamble that I possess great natural wisdom.”

      She chuckled. If Granny Rose had sent a faux husband, she had picked one with a sense of humor. “Do you like Grand Turk? My father said he was the best horse he’d ever owned. He won him at cards, of course.”

      Adam’s face lit up. “He’s splendid. Beautiful paces, and spirited without malice. The chestnut mare is also very fine. Another prize at the gaming table?”

      “Yes. She’s my mount, Hazelnut. Hazel for short.” Mariah studied Adam, who looked like a proper country gentleman in her father’s clothing, but his face was drawn. “I didn’t expect to find you on horseback. Riding wasn’t too much for you?”

      “My strength is not yet back to normal,” he admitted, “but I really wanted to be on a horse again. Perhaps we can take that ride over the estate today?”

      “Later, if you think you’re ready, but now Mrs. Beckett would like to feed us both breakfast. Are you ready for an omelet?”

      “Definitely!”

      He took her arm and they turned to the house. He liked to touch. Again she wondered if he was demonstrating the ease of a married man who was used to having a woman of his own to touch whenever he wanted.

      The sooner her gift from the sea recovered his memory, the better for them all.

      After an excellent breakfast, Adam withdrew to his bedroom to rest again. In early afternoon, Mariah tiptoed into his bedroom and found him sprawled across the bed on his back. He’d peeled off his boots and coat but still wore his shirt and breeches. He was a fine figure of a man who fulfilled the gentlemanly ideal of fit, well-proportioned elegance. Was he a gentleman by birth? She wasn’t sure, but he had become one.

      Thinking she’d let him sleep if he didn’t wake easily, she whispered, “Adam? How are you feeling?”

      He woke and gave her a smile that made her feel like the most special woman in the world. “I could manage a ride around the estate.”

      She studied him, his visible bruises reminding her of all the ones that weren’t visible. He had taken quite a beating. “Let’s wait till tomorrow for the tour. Better not push yourself too hard.”

      “Then I need to find a different physical activity.” He caught her hand and tugged her down so that she was alongside him on the bed. Gaze intense, he said, “I wish I remembered our first kiss. I shall have to start all over.”

      Before she had fully grasped his intent, he drew her down and kissed her. His mouth was firm and warm, his tongue gentle as it parted her lips.

      Sensation flooded through her, scrambling her wits and judgment. She had been kissed by earnest young men, and more than once had fought off drunks like Burke, but she’d never experienced a kiss like this. She felt his wonder and delight, as if they were new lovers, yet she also sensed commitment and his belief that they had a history. That they belonged to each other.

      She gasped as his caressing hands moved down her back, honoring every curve and hollow. Where their bodies touched, she burned. She wanted to melt into him, kiss until they were both senseless.

      His right hand slid under her gown and moved up her bare thigh, as shocking as it was seductive. She jerked away from his embrace, her heart pounding. Somewhere inside, her Sarah self was saying, “This is your own fault.”

      Mariah couldn’t deny it. If they continued on this path, she would lose her virginity and possibly entice Adam into adultery. She should run screaming from this impossible situation.

      He stared up at her flushed face, puzzled and a little hurt. “What’s wrong, Mariah?”

      Briefly she thought of confessing, but she couldn’t bear the thought of cutting him loose from what little certainty he had. She struggled for an answer that would put more distance between them while also having some honesty.

      “I’m sorry, Adam.” She sat up on the edge of the bed, unable to think clearly in his arms. “This is too…too sudden for me. We’ve had so little time together, and now I am a stranger to you.”

      “A beloved stranger,” he said quietly. “And surely I’m not a stranger to you. Or have I changed greatly?”

      She shivered, wondering if his feelings were for his real wife and Mariah was merely a convenient substitute. Remembering what she’d said to Mrs. Beckett, she said, “It’s not that you have changed, but that the situation itself is so strange. Will you court me as if we just met? We can discover each other anew.” She took his hand. “Your memory could return at any time, of course, and that will simplify everything. But until that happens, can we begin again?”

      He hesitated, and she guessed that he would prefer to get to know her in a more biblical way. But then he smiled and raised their joined hands, kissing her fingertips. “What a wise idea. Miss Clarke, you are the loveliest creature I have ever met. Will you join СКАЧАТЬ