A Regency Courtesan's Pride. Ann Lethbridge

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ groom’s wrinkled face looked grim. ‘Aye.’

      ‘It was not Jed’s fault,’ Miss Draycott said. ‘And it is beside the point. That poor creature is in pain.’

      ‘Nowt to worry your head about, missy.’

      ‘I’ll check again later,’ she said, rubbing her upper arms.

      He hadn’t thought her so sentimental a woman. Yet on their drive she had kept turning back to look at the injured beast. Perhaps, beneath her hard brittle shell, she’d a soft centre. Hopefully, the head groom wouldn’t let her rampage around the countryside alone in future. He’d have a word with him in private. Later. When Merry left.

      ‘You’d be better off staying warm by the fire,’ the groom said.

      ‘I’ll take a look at my cattle while I’m here, Jed.’

      ‘Sixteen mile an hour tits, I’m thinkin', my lord,’ Jed said.

      ‘On a smooth road downhill.’ Charlie patted the injured horse’s rump and exited the stall. He exited further along the stable block.

      ‘I was going too fast,’ Merry said, following him. ‘I was angry and hurrying because of the weather. I must have hit a rut.’

      He’d seen no signs of a rut large enough to damage an axle. ‘Fretting won’t change it.’

      Her chin quivered. ‘No. It won’t. But that horse is in pain. I can see it in his eyes.’

      Charlie didn’t quite know what to say, so said nothing. He strode along the block until he found his team. They huffed a greeting. He spent a moment or two going over their hooves and their limbs. Someone had brushed them and their brown coats shone.

      ‘You have a good man in Jed,’ he said.

      ‘He worked for my grandfather.’ She spoke as if the words answered all.

      They walked side by side along the alley in front of the stalls.

      ‘It seems you are to be burdened by my company for a while longer,’ he said.

      ‘It is no burden,’ she said absently as if she had something else on her mind. ‘It won’t be the first time we are snowed in for a few days.’

      ‘Thank you for your hospitality.’

      His voice must have sounded just a little dry, because her head turned, her eyes meeting his gaze.

      She gave a rueful smile. ‘Did I sound dreadfully rude? I apologise. I meant to say that it will be an honour to have you stay as long as you wish.’

      Somehow he preferred the earlier offhand invitation to this lavish courtesy, because the first was pure Merry and the second pro forma.

      ‘You must allow me to perform some service for you while I am here,’ he said just a little mischievously, thinking to test the waters.

      Her eyes widened just a fraction as she considered his words. ‘What might you have in mind?’

      He grinned, and the sparks were once more hovering in the air. Attraction and interest. Not the searing fire of the previous evening, but it wouldn’t take much to set it ablaze.

      ‘How about a sleigh ride?’ He pointed to the equipage stored behind her phaeton.

      ‘In this weather?’ She glanced out into the courtyard.

      ‘When it clears.’

      ‘All right.’

      He hesitated. ‘Merry, I conversed with some unusual young women this morning. In my chamber.’

      She frowned. And then gasped. ‘Beth and Jane.’

      ‘I didn’t get their names. However, they seemed very obliging.’

      ‘They didn’t’ She covered her mouth with her hand.

      His lips wanted to smile. He held them in check. ‘No. They didn’t.’ But they would have, and she knew it.

      ‘Oh. Oh, dear. I must apologise. They are housemaids in training. I should have told them to leave your room to Brian.’

      Housemaids in training. A new twist on an old profession. She must have seen the disbelief in his face. ‘I will speak to them,’ she said stiffly. ‘And if the weather breaks, we will go for a sleigh ride. In the meantime, I have some business affairs needing attention.’

      He imagined she did—but which business?

      ‘In the meantime,’ she said breathlessly, ‘please make free of the library where you will find books and a nice warm fire.’

      They stood in the doorway, looking out at the world turned into a white desert, the house barely visible in a sudden flurry of snow. He inhaled. She was right, snow did have a scent all of its own. Why had he never noticed?

      He took off his muffler and wrapped it around her neck and up over her mouth and nose. ‘Then at least let me escort you safely back to the house.’

      Over the top of the scarf laughter spilled from her blue eyes. She looked like some Far Eastern princess, saucily peeping out from behind a veil. Or she would, if not for the manly driving coat and the man’s felt hat.

      He grabbed her hand, tucked it beneath his arm and they began the trek up the hill. He liked the feel of her leaning on him for support. She wasn’t a fragile flower of a woman, but there was absolutely no denying her femininity.

      And today she was acting with the propriety of a duchess. He had the strong urge to unravel the puzzle he’d found. And part of that was learning who might want to cause her harm.

      He barely noticed the icy fingers of wind tearing at his coat, or the snow cold and wet on his face, because for the first time in a long time he was doing exactly as he pleased.

Chapter Five

      Merry hurried along the corridor. She knew why she was hurrying. It had nothing to do with talking to the women and everything to do with escape. From him.

      Not because she was attracted to him, because that part she could handle. Indeed, it was rather pleasant being looked at with desire. But it was the other part that caused her unease. Every now and then, when he looked at her with those intense dark eyes, she had the feeling he could see her innermost thoughts, whereas he seemed to hold himself very much at a distance because he really didn’t approve.

      The sooner he was gone the better.

      She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked the door to what had once been the nursery. Voices from an open door let her know where she would find Caro and her charges. She entered the day room. Caro faced the two women sitting at desks along with Thomas, Caro’s six-year-old son, writing his letters on a slate. СКАЧАТЬ