His Makeshift Wife. Anne Ashley

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ in a long sigh of relief, as she made herself comfortable against the mound of lacy pillows. At last she could relax with her book and forget about all the subterfuge, at least until morning.

      No sooner had the comforting thought filtered through her mind than she detected the click of the door leading to the master bedroom and discovered none other than the tall figure of her husband filling the aperture.

      More intrigued than unnerved, she found herself studying his attire, or lack of it, for beneath the crimson-brocade dressing gown she strongly suspected he was wearing absolutely nothing at all. Dark curling hairs clearly showed between ornately embroidered lapels, and there was a suspicion of the same dark covering caressing the ankles of unshod feet.

      ‘Is there something amiss? I was informed all your belongings had been placed in your room,’ she remarked as he slowly approached the bed, all at once seeming far taller and broader in his casual attire. His face seemed different, too—younger somehow, with several locks of waving brown hair tumbling over his forehead—and there was a definite intense, almost hungry look in those grey eyes that never for a second wavered from her direction.

      ‘Have you misplaced something, perhaps?’ she added, all at once feeling decidedly ill at ease when he seated himself, uninvited, on the edge of the bed and placed one bronzed hand so close to her that his thumb rested against her thigh.

      ‘Only my bride,’ he returned silkily, sending her unease soaring in an instant.

      Her response was to draw up her knees and tug the bedcovers up to her chin, clutching them frantically. ‘You—you f-forget yourself, sir!’ Even to her own ears her voice sounded little more than a choked whisper. ‘Or have you forgotten the bargain you made?’

      ‘I forget nothing. But for appearances’ sake I felt I must at least—er—pay you a visit,’ he responded, his voice growing increasingly guttural. ‘So whilst I’m here I might as well avail myself of the opportunity to discover if, perchance, you’ve changed your mind and natural maidenly modesty forbids you to reveal that you desire to become a wife in … every sense?’

      The response to this was a violent shake of the head, which sent silky chestnut tresses whipping across wide, frightened eyes, and induced slender tapering fingers to clutch more frantically at white linen, as though her very life depended upon it.

      Luke wrested the bed sheet from her grasp as easily as if he were depriving a child of its toy and smiled softly. ‘There’s no need to look so terrified, Briony,’ he assured her, reaching out to trace the soft line of her jaw with surprisingly gentle fingers. ‘I’ve never yet forced myself on an unwilling female and I have no intention of doing so now. The marriage will be as you wish … mere pretence.’

      Letting his hand fall, Luke rose from the bed. ‘I shall never again enter this room unless bidden to do so. You have my word on that. Goodnight, my dear.’

      Briony couldn’t have responded even had she wished to do so. A painful obstruction had unexpectedly lodged itself in her throat, making speech impossible, and her pulse was racing, though no longer through fear. That portion of her face that had been touched by, oh, so gentle fingers continued to tingle strangely, and the unerring feeling that she had just rejected something very precious entered her mind and remained there to torment her long after she had watched the light disappear from beneath the communicating door.

      By morning she was once again feeling more herself. Her resolve had reasserted itself and restored her determination to play her part in the mock union in order to secure what promised to be a very comfortable future existence, once the farcical marriage had been annulled.

      She woke much later than usual, a circumstance that certainly didn’t seem in any way extraordinary to Janet, who brought in a breakfast tray and cast her young mistress a long, considering look. The smile she received in response appeared to please her because she went about the room humming a ditty as she twitched back curtains to her satisfaction and rearranged several items on the dressing table.

      ‘I trust you slept well, mistress?’

      ‘Eventually … yes.’

      The housekeeper’s smile widened at this response. ‘Master Luke’s up and about already,’ she revealed. ‘I expect he wants to familiarise himself with all the old property again. People tend to forget that, apart from the large garden, the Manor has quite a bit of land attached to it. Besides which, two of his other people arrived earlier this morning, bringing a whole string of horses with them, not to mention a couple of carriages. The stables must be fair full, I shouldn’t wonder.’

      This succeeded in capturing Briony’s interest. She’d always enjoyed riding herself and was curious to see what kind of horses Luke now kept in his stables. Whether she liked him or not—and the jury was still very much out on that particular issue—honesty obliged her to own that he had been a fine judge of horseflesh even in his youth, and she doubted that would have changed. ‘I’ll wander over to the stables presently myself.’

      ‘Well, you take your time, Miss Briony … Oh, there I goes again! Can’t get used to calling you madam.’

      ‘Don’t concern yourself, Janet. I don’t object.’

      ‘You might not. But I dare swear the master would. He’s already taking an interest in your well being, bless him! Said as how you weren’t to be disturbed too early and that you’d be taking breakfast in bed.’

      Briony wasn’t altogether sure she cared to have another making decisions for her. She wasn’t accustomed to breaking her fast in bed; although she didn’t object to doing so this morning, she had no intention of making a habit of it just to please the new master of the house. So the sooner she made that perfectly plain the better!

      After the wonderful dinner she had consumed the night before, she wasn’t feeling particularly hungry and was soon setting the tray aside and turning her attention to getting herself ready for the day ahead. She had finished dressing and was on the point of seating herself before the dressing table in order to do up her hair in a simple chignon, when she noticed the housekeeper staring fixedly down at the crumpled mound of bedcovers.

      ‘Something amiss, Janet?’

      The housekeeper turned to look at her young mistress, her expression clearly troubled. ‘I trust not, Miss Briony … I sincerely trust not.’

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQ СКАЧАТЬ