Cinderella And The Duke. Janice Preston
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Название: Cinderella And The Duke

Автор: Janice Preston

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon Historical

isbn: 9781474053815

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ paused in the act of handing her brother his cup of tea. When had he become so irritable?

      ‘Oh, Freddie.’ The ever-ready guilt flooded her. Why had it not been she who was injured? Why had she escaped with mere bruises whilst Freddie’s life had been altered beyond measure? ‘I am sorry. You are right. I am thoughtless. I am so accustomed to... I simply do not think at times...after all this time it is hard to remember you are a grown man and not just my younger brother. And after all that has happened—’

      With a lurch of horror, she bit off her words. What was she thinking, running on so in such an ill-considered fashion?

      ‘I apologise, Mr Boyton. What must you think of us?’

      Freddie took his cup from her with a look of reproach. Well, she deserved that. She forced a laugh.

      ‘That is more than enough about our family. Tell me, Mr Boyton, are you familiar with the countryside around here?’

      They indulged in stilted small talk whilst they drank their tea, Rosalind painfully aware of the speculation in Leo’s eyes every time they alighted upon her. Thankfully, it was not long before he rose to his feet.

      ‘I have trespassed upon your hospitality long enough.’

      ‘Not at all,’ Rosalind said, but stood up and led the way to the door lest he changed his mind. ‘It was the least I could do after you rescued my hat. I am certain your stocking will be dry by now.’

      Leo made his farewells to Freddie, who made no attempt to follow them from the room.

      As soon as she entered the kitchen Rosalind hurried over to the fireplace and snatched at the stocking. ‘Yes, this is dry.’ She bent to scoop Leo’s boot from the floor. ‘And although your boot is still damp, it is an improvement, I am sure. And it is not so far to Halsdon Manor. I am sure you will—oh!’

      Leo had followed her across the room and, as she straightened, he was right beside her. He lifted her chin with one finger, tilting her gaze to his.

      ‘I understand you are anxious, Rosalind, but there is no need to fill every second of silence. You may tell me “all that has happened” if you wish, but I shall not interrogate you.’

      Conversely, his words fuelled her apprehension. He saw far too much with that keen silver-grey gaze.

      Leo released her chin and sat down to pull on his stocking and his boots. ‘Your brother mentioned, though, that you are unlikely to remain here much longer. Where will you go?’

      ‘Oh. I do not... That is, I am not certain.’

      She had avoided thinking beyond their immediate future. She had not planned much further than ensuring Nell was safe. She and Freddie could not impose on Sir William’s hospitality for ever, but where were they to go? Back to Lydney? The idea was unpalatable, with Sir Peter—as far as she knew—still in residence, and yet she could not leave him in sole charge, and what of the school holidays? Jack must return in the summer and she would have to go back then. She could not leave him to Sir Peter’s care.

      She sighed. Indecision. It had plagued her ever since they fled Lydney. She did not know what to do for the best. The only decision she had reached was to wait until Nell’s Season was complete. Maybe that would show her the way forward.

      ‘What is it?’ A gentle finger feathered between her tight brows. Leo had finished pulling on his boots whilst she was lost in thought and now stood before her. ‘You are troubled. Allow me to help.’

      Rosalind swallowed the ache of tears at those gentle words. How she wished...but there was nothing he could do to help.

      ‘I am sorry. It is nothing.’ She stretched her lips in a smile. ‘We might stay here. I have not decided yet.’

      ‘You have not decided? Does your brother not have a say in what you do?’

      ‘It was a figure of speech. I meant we.’

      ‘Your brother... He is a man. He has a man’s pride.’

      Rosalind frowned at him. ‘He is my brother. You have only just met him.’

      Leo regarded her thoughtfully. ‘I had no intention of annoying you. I do wonder, however, if—’

      ‘It is not your business to wonder at what my brother and I do or how we live, sir.’

      Nerves fluttered within as his brow lowered. That had been rude. Nonetheless, she stifled her urge to apologise. Her family was her business and no concern of anyone else. Particularly someone they had only just met and who could have no idea of what life had thrown at them.

      ‘What happened to your brother’s leg?’

      The abrupt change in conversation took her by surprise and she answered without any censorship of her words.

      ‘It was a carriage accident. Freddie’s leg was crushed and our father was killed. My mother and I were uninjured.’

      ‘I see. And how old was Freddie?’

      She did not care for the understanding in those silvery eyes. It made her feel like weeping. ‘He was one year old.’

      ‘And you were...what...three? Four?’

      ‘Six. I was six.’ Her birthday. She stamped on the memory of that terrible day even as her hand crept, without volition, to the comfort of her locket and the memory of Grandpa, of sitting on his lap as he told her stories.

      ‘Your father was killed, you say. Where is your mother now?’

      Rosalind grabbed the poker and stirred viciously at the fire. ‘She died when I was nine.’

      ‘And Freddie would have been only four. Do you have other brothers or sisters?’

      That deceptively simple question hovered perilously close to matters Rosalind wished to avoid. She dropped the poker on to the stone hearth with a clatter, and marched across the kitchen to haul open the door.

      ‘It was kind of you to retrieve my hat, Mr Boyton. I make no doubt you long to return to your friends at Halsdon.’

      Leo raised a brow and scrutinised her from head to toe. Then he smiled.

      ‘We will meet again, Rosalind, before I leave Halsdon. On that you may depend.’

      He strolled across the kitchen, taking his hat from the table as he passed. As he neared Rosalind, her breath quickened under the magnetic pull of those extraordinary, omniscient eyes. Might he try to kiss her? Touch her? He did neither. And she was left shaken and bereft as he strode from her sight.

      She used her pent-up energy to tidy the kitchen, before taking Freddie his newspaper—ordered daily from London—and the letter she had collected from the village.

      ‘There was a letter from Jack,’ she said, on entering the room. ‘I could not tell you whilst Mr Boyton was here. Jack writes that Sir Peter visited the school and quizzed him as to Nell’s whereabouts.’

      Freddie held out his hand. ‘May I read it for myself?’

      ‘Of СКАЧАТЬ