The Marriage Rescue. Joanna Johnson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ own—had glittered with unshed tears. ‘Ned, the lady was only trying to help, and now they’re going to hurt her!’

      Ophelia had told him the full story. She’d been ‘exploring’ again, having escaped from the watchful gaze of her governess, and had walked so far she’d been unable to find her way back home. She had been about to give up all hope of ever seeing her mama again when a lady had appeared through the trees, dressed in strange clothes and singing a song Ophelia hadn’t understood.

      When she had seen the child she’d stopped and looked almost frightened, but after Ophelia burst into tears and explained that she was lost and alone the lady had wrapped her up snug in a shawl and taken her towards a waiting horse—a huge grey stallion, with great scars marring his flanks—and said she would take Ophelia safely home.

      ‘But then Harris and Milton came, and they were so angry. Harris pulled me away and Milton tried to take hold of the lady. But she ran—and nobody would listen to me!’

      Edward had set Ophelia back on her feet and leapt back into the saddle without a word. He hadn’t doubted for a moment that the child was telling the truth; there wasn’t a moment to lose.

      He peered upwards yet again. Was that a scrap of fabric? It was hard to tell against the leafy backdrop.

      ‘What is it that concerns you? Are you afraid I’ll come chasing after you again?’

      There was only silence from above, and Edward forced back a grin.

       The pert creature. Sitting pretty as a picture up her tree, deciding whether the Squire’s own son is worth coming down for.

      The smile faded and a small crease formed between his eyebrows. The late Squire’s son, now. He was still getting used to that, having returned from London only two days prior to find the Hall quieter than he had ever known it before.

      ‘I can’t deny I have some slight misgivings.’

      The smoky voice was edged with an undercurrent of something Edward could not identify, and his frown deepened.

      ‘Well, what if I gave you my word as a gentleman that I won’t? Would you allow me the honour of an introduction then?’

      Another silence stretched out, this time less amusing, and Edward raised an eyebrow. This was getting a little out of hand. He was well within his rights to order her down, trespassing as she was on his own land—or what would be his land once he took formal possession of his inheritance.

      ‘Miss, I would have you know my word is my law. I would think myself beyond contempt if, once given, I were to break it.’

      There was a moment’s quiet. Then, ‘I suppose there’s no chance you’d leave and let me go about my business without an audience?’

      ‘None whatsoever, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Not very gentlemanly of you.’

      ‘Alas, I remain unmoved.’

      There was another pause. Edward was certain he could hear the grinding of teeth and allowed himself a small smile at her reluctance. She really was an unusual woman.

      The branches above his head swayed suddenly, and then with a shower of falling leaves the woman dropped to the ground in front of him.

      Edward felt his eyes widen in surprise. She was younger than he had expected: her tawny face, flecked with mud and with a long scratch across one cheek, belonged to a woman no older than twenty. Perhaps it had been the modest clothing that had confused him—she was certainly dressed like no fashionable young lady he had ever met. Her bright skirt was paired with a loose-fitting blouse, half hidden beneath a number of colourful tasselled shawls, and raven hair hung in thick waves about her shoulders.

      Her effect on him was both immediate and startling. A distant part of his mind knew it was rude to stare, but for some reason he didn’t seem able to tear his gaze away as he took in the vibrancy of the scarlet wool against the deep black of her curls, the delicacy of the bone structure beneath the dirt on her face and even the oddly intriguing lack of a wedding ring on the hand that clutched her shawls to her chest.

      There was something about her that seemed to call to him, to make him want to drink her in, and he felt a sharp pang of surprise at the very thought. There she stood, a complete stranger and an intruder on his land. He ought to be unmoved by their chance encounter and yet there he stood, a full-grown man, apparently struck dumb by the power of a lovely countenance. For lovely it most certainly was.

      Where had he ever seen its equal?

      It was the strangest sensation—almost as though he had surrendered control of his senses for the briefest of moments before coming back down to earth with a bump. So she was handsome—what was that to him? He was only human, and now his rational mind must take charge again. Her beauty counted for nothing—just the same as any other woman’s. He would not be making that mistake again.

      She stood watching him with eyes as mistrustful as a feral cat’s. There was a feline grace to her posture, too, in the way she held herself, ready to run at the slightest provocation, and it highlighted the contrast between her lithe elegance and his broad stature. Although he easily topped her by a good head and a half, the tense wariness of her frame radiated an untouchability that would have stopped most men in their tracks.

      Thrusting his moment of madness firmly to the back of his mind, Edward offered a short bow. ‘Thank you for indulging me.’

      The woman inclined her head slightly but said nothing.

      This might be a little more difficult than I thought, Edward mused. He wanted to thank her for trying to help Ophelia, but apparently conversing with her was destined to be like drawing blood from a stone.

      She couldn’t know who he was, he was sure. If she did she would be far more interested in conversation. The young women of his acquaintance always seemed to open up at the first hint of his name and prospects.

      Not that it was necessarily a good thing. Edward had lost count of the number of ladies who had breezed up to him at balls and revels, affecting shyness, confiding that they had a dance reserved for him in the event that he might be ‘inclined to take a turn’. Bitter experience had taught him not to be tempted.

      ‘My name is Edward Fulbrooke,’ Edward continued. ‘I’m the son of the late Squire of Blackwell Hall, and this is my family estate.’ He watched as something sparked in the woman’s eyes—something akin to fear. ‘Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?’

      He saw her throat move as she swallowed, his gaze drawn there by some impulse he couldn’t control. The look in her eyes had been fleeting, but there had definitely been a reaction. Was it something I said? Far from impressing her, the revelation of his name had seemed to unnerve her even more. Why was that?

      ‘Selina. Selina Agres.’

      ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Agres.’

      The woman nodded again. An odd expression flickered across her face, mingling with the ever-present wariness; it was half watchful, half curious. She seemed on the brink of saying something before evidently thinking better of it, instead folding her full lips into a tight line.

      ‘I’m СКАЧАТЬ