Lord Hunter's Cinderella Heiress. Lara Temple

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ out her name. ‘This is a surprise, to say the least. Where is Sir Henry?’

      ‘I don’t know. May we talk inside? It is not quite...’ She paused, realising the irony of suggesting they enter his house to avoid being seen on his doorstep. His lips compressed further, but he stood back and she hurried into the hall, her heart thumping. Everything had been much clearer in her mind when she had been driven by frustration and anger and before she had made a fool of herself tumbling down the steps.

      ‘This way.’

      He opened a door and she glanced at him as she entered. She went towards the still-glowing fireplace, extending her hands to its heat and trying hard not to let her surprise show. How had she managed to forget such a definite face? Had she remembered him more clearly, she might have reconsidered confronting him alone. She had vaguely remembered his height and the bruised weariness about his eyes; even his irreverence and his tolerance of her skittishness. But she hadn’t remembered that his brows were like sooty accusations above intense golden-brown eyes or the deep-cut lines that bracketed a tense mouth. If she had grown up he had grown hard. It was difficult to imagine this man being kind to a scared child.

      ‘Lord Hunter,’ she began. ‘I—’

      ‘How did you get here from Keswick?’

      She blinked at the brusque interruption.

      ‘I came post. What I wanted to say was—’

      ‘In a post-chaise? With whom?’

      ‘With a maid from the school. Lord Hunter, I—’

      ‘Is she outside?’

      ‘No, I left her with her family in Ealing on the way. Lord Hunter, I—’

      He raised a hand, cutting her off again.

      ‘Your father allowed you to travel from the Lake District to London and come to my house in the middle of the night, unattended?’

      He spoke softly but the rising menace in his voice was unmistakable.

      ‘My father knows nothing about it. Would you please stop interrupting me?’

      ‘Not yet. What the...? What do you mean your father knows nothing about it?’

      ‘My father sent me a letter on my birthday informing me I have apparently been betrothed for four years. I wrote back and told him I most certainly wasn’t. His response was to send me this clipping from the Morning Post.’ She fumbled inside her reticule for the much-abused slip of paper and shoved it at Lord Hunter. He took it, but didn’t bother reading it.

      ‘And rather than communicating your...distaste in a more traditional manner, you chose a melodramatic gesture like appearing on my doorstep in the middle of the night?’

      Although his flat, cold voice shared nothing with her aunt’s deceptively soft but vicious attacks, Nell felt the familiar stinging ache of dread and mortification rising like a wave of nausea. She gritted her teeth, repeating for the umpteenth time that Aunt Hester had no power over her and that she was no longer a child. She was twenty-one and very wealthy and she was done being treated like chattel.

      ‘Do you find it more melodramatic than concocting this engagement behind my back and keeping it from me for four years? You have no one to blame but yourself!’

      That might have been going too far, Nell told herself as his stern face lost some of its coldness, but she couldn’t tell what the increasingly intent look on his face portended.

      ‘Clearly,’ he said, still maddeningly cool. ‘Where are you staying in town?’

      Some of her bravado faded at the thought of the disappearing post-chaise.

      ‘Nowhere yet. I thought Father was in town, but the house is empty and the post-chaise is taking my trunk to the Peacock in Islington.’

      The gloves jerked in his hands again.

      ‘I see. And now that you have delivered your message in person, what do you propose to do?’

      Nell had no idea. She was miserable and confused and hungry and she wanted nothing more than to sit down and cry.

      He moved away from her and for a moment she thought he might just leave her there and her shoulders sagged, almost relieved. But he merely strode over to the bell-pull and gave it a tug. At least in this her memory had been accurate—he walked lightly, unusually so for someone of his size, but it just added to that sense of danger she had not associated with him at all from their meeting all those years ago.

      ‘Sit down.’

      He tossed his gloves on a table and took her arm, not quite forcing her, but it was hard not to step back and sink into the armchair. It was as comfortable as it looked and for a moment she contemplated unlacing her shoes and tucking her cold feet beneath her, leaning her head against the wings, closing her eyes... Perhaps this would all just go away.

      He stood above her, even more imposing now that she was seated. Neither of them spoke until the door opened.

      ‘Biggs, bring some...tea and something to eat, please.’

      ‘Tea?’

      Nell almost smiled at the shock in the butler’s voice. Lord Hunter glanced at him with a glint of rueful amusement just as the butler caught sight of Nell. All expression was wiped from the butler’s face, but something in his stoic expression reflected the brief flash of amusement in his master’s eyes and Nell didn’t know whether to be relieved by this first sign of some softer human emotion from the man she was engaged to.

      ‘Tea. Oh, and send Hidgins to the Peacock and ask him to retrieve—’ He broke off and turned to Nell. ‘Let me guess—you gave them your real name, didn’t you? I thought so. To retrieve Miss Tilney’s baggage. Discreetly, Biggs. But first have him drive by Miss Amelia to tell her to wait up for me; I will be by within an hour with a guest for the night.’

      Nell started protesting, but the butler merely nodded and withdrew.

      ‘I can’t stay with you!’

      ‘Don’t worry; I never invite women here and certainly not my betrothed. I will take you somewhere a damn sight more respectable than the Peacock is for a country miss with no more sense than to try to stay at one of the busiest posting houses in London without a maid or chaperon. You may not want to marry me, but I’m damned if I am going to have the woman whose name has just been publicly linked with mine create a lurid scandal through sheer stupidity. I admit your father and I agreed on the engagement four years ago, but I understood he would discuss it with you and inform me if there was any impediment to proceeding and that in any case it wouldn’t be relevant until you came of age.’

      ‘Because I wouldn’t inherit Bascombe until then, correct?’ she asked, not concealing her contempt.

      He breathed in, clearly clinging to his calm.

      ‘Correct. I don’t see anything outrageous in wanting to ally the Bascombe and Hunter estates. I admit I should have probably discussed the matter with you myself, but since you disappeared from Tilney and since I was in mourning at the time, it seemed sensible to let your father discuss the issue with you. I had no idea he hadn’t done so and СКАЧАТЬ