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Authors: Something Like a Lady

Kay Springsteen (13 page)

BOOK: Kay Springsteen
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The song apparently finished, she laid her head back and lapsed into blessed silence. Jon sighed. Maybe she

d sleep it off now.


I feel ill,

she mumbled, her voice slurred.

Jon snapped himself upright.

Ahh…

Her light snores broke the sudden silence. Her body settled by inches, first her
back
, then her shoulders and arms. Finally, her head lolled sideways. Her face became softened in sleep. He should get some sleep himself, but he couldn

t tear himself away from her. Still, with one leg on the couch and the other dangling over the edge, her head lying just off the bolster, she didn

t look comfortable. Maybe — just for the night — he

d be a gentleman and give up his bed.

Mind made up, he stood and slid his arms beneath her still form. She never moved as he lifted her, but then she nestled more closely and slid one warm hand around his neck. She was hardly any burden at all as he carried her across the room, pausing only to snuff the candles on the dining table.

Walking up the steps, Jon struggled to push back feelings of protectiveness. Whatever her reasons for drinking the wine, he

d caught the lady in a vulnerable moment. Nothing more. At any other time, Annabella would have shown fierce independence. The last thing she needed was a keeper.

She stirred as he settled her in the bed and drew the blanket over her ripe and curvy figure.

Sleep soundly, lady fair. You

re safe here.


Please… don

t go away,

she mumbled.

I

m so alone.

No.
But Jon

s heart gave a little kick as he ba
cked away from the bed.

Annie, you don

t know what you

re asking.


You

re quite wrong,

she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Mama

s… so cross… with m-me.

Walk away now, Seabrook.
His hands curled into fists at his sides and he forced his mind to
the couch in the great room. That was where he belonged. He

d given up his bed willingly and now it was time to take his leave.

Annabella sighed and sat up, rubbing her eyes. In the dim moonlight that filtered through the window, she appeared smaller, less sure of herself, maybe a little… lost. She reminded him of one of the faerie folk Gran was always prattling on about.

A shudder wracked her body and she gulped back a hiccup. Or perhaps it was a soft sob.

Help m-me… get ou-out of this. I can

t s-sleep in it.

She began tugging on her dress.

The blood roared in Jon

s ears, and with a soft moan, he stepped forward to assist the lady. He was, after all, not a saint. Only a man.

 

Chapter Eight

 

The rhythmic pounding of a horse

s heavy hooves was close and drawing nearer. Annabella didn

t want to open her eyes, didn

t want to leave the warm cocoon that surrounded her. Juliet would be in soon enough to help her dress. If only that blasted racket would cease. It made her head hurt. She shifted, raised a hand to her forehead
,
and rubbed. The dratted pounding echoed more loudly until she realized it came from inside her head, hammering out a country dance rhythm that mimicked her beating heart.


Oh,

she moaned. She must have developed an illness. She

d ask Juliet for some cool cloths.

No, no, no. That wasn

t right. Juliet wouldn

t be coming to help her. Juliet was in London. Annabella blinked open her eyes.
Where
am
I?

Watery pre-dawn light filtered through the window and washed over the battered and scarred furniture. Right. Rose Cottage. How had she come to be in the bedroom.

I thought—

She forced her eyes open wider. A pair of Hessian boots stood like sentries next to the dressing table. Seabrook

s boots. Seabrook

s bedroom, though he

d unwittingly stolen it from her in the first place.

Seabrook

s… bed.

Annabella

s heart stuttered and then took up a mad gallop. Blood roared in her ears and her stomach jumped and fluttered.

Behind her, someone released a long, contented sigh. Balmy breath tickled her bare shoulder. She eased a glance down the length of her body. The cocoon she

d been enjoying took on the form of a very large, very powerful male hand resting possessively on her waist. The heat of his touch seared her skin through the thin muslin shift. Utterly awake now, she eased away from the warmth that ran the length of her body. The hand tightened slightly as though in protest.

No! No, no, no!

Annabella scanned the room again. There! Her horrid gray dress had been flung over the bedside chair and hung upside down, spilling half onto the floor.

I

m in Seabrook

s bed wearing nothing but my shift. In. Seabrook

s. Bed.

With a cry of dismay, Annabella leapt to her feet, dragging the blanket with her and wrapping it around her scantily clad body as the chill morning air struck her bare skin.

Tears pricked her eyelids as she scrabbled to grab the ugly gray dress.


Annie?

Seabrook mumbled, his voice still laden with sleep.

She refused to turn around. With
out a doubt he’d be in the same state of undress as she.
D
ress in hand, she raced for the door, and on reaching it, fumbled with the latch until it lifted with a heavy clank.


Annie, stop!

demanded Seabrook, his voice sharper.


I-I

m sorry. I must go,

she called as she closed the door. The steps were freezing to the poi
nt of numbing her bare feet. Where were her shoes and stockings?
What have I done? What have I done?

Her whole body hurt and tingled all at once. No time to dwell on the sensations. She had to get dressed. Even the ugly gray garment she carried was better than her current state.

Praying Abby wouldn

t be in the kitchen, Annabella
hurried
past the dining room tab
le. It had already been cleared, so
Florrie
had already been there.

Had she seen anything? No. No, she

d have no reason to check the bedroom. She

d been tasked with clearing the meal. Annabella pushed into the kitchen and raced straight into the pantry, where she dropped the blanket
.
Her hands shook as she quickly
pulled the dress over her head.


Oh, you chicken brain!

She rolled the blanket into a ba
ll and shoved it onto the shelf above the false wall. Then she struggled with the fastenings on her dress.

You silly, childish, chicken-brained
fool
!

The tears spilled over, but she dashed them with the backs of her hands. Blinking back more, she worked at righting her dress with hands that shook. A door opened and then closed.
S
ounds of movement filtered from the kitchen. Abby! She

d come by early as well. And Annabella had yet to figure out where her shoes and stockings had gone. Her gaze shifted to the broom in the corner. Abby would come for it. She

d taken to sweeping the floors.

Footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor. Annabella smoothed her hand over her wrinkled dress, hoping Abby wouldn

t notice anything amiss.

But the hulking shadow in the doorway wasn

t the maid.


Annie…

Seabrook

s voice was gentle, persuasive. Had he used that tone on her the night before?

She gulped.

What is this? Come for more, have you? Are you so insatiable you must accost me in the daylight hours as well?

Seabrook made an impatient movement with his hand and stared at her. Hard. She trembled. Under his scrutiny she might as well be naked all over again. He looked at her like he knew her. Searing flames engulfed her face, stifling her breath.

Well, he
has
known you, you foolish chit.
Her skin tingled where his eyes raked her. Could things get any worse?

Yes, yes they could. Because she simply could not stop returning his regard. His hair shot out at all angles — he hadn

t taken even a moment to tame it. In fact, it seemed he hadn

t even taken a moment to do more than pull on his boots. Clad in a pair of black trousers, his long white shirt fell to his knees, billowing like a — like a nightshirt.

A wave of heat washed over her, warming places he

d touched the night before — her cheek, her hand… and more. Her body hummed all over. His fingers had been hot through her shift as he

d helped her unfasten her gown. And then he

d—

She frowned. He

d what? Why couldn

t she remember more?

He stepped into the pantry. Too close. Far too close!


What do you thi—


Get out!

she shrieked, placing her hands on his chest and giving him a good shove. When he stumbled against the doorjamb, she squeezed past and
fled
into the kitchen. It didn

t take him long to recover. He was on her heels in seconds. But she placed herself on the far side of the worktable and held her hands in front of her.

Stop!

He quit moving. Understanding seemed to dawn and he rocked back on his heels, pressing his palm against his chest.

M

lady, once again you wound me. All those beautiful words that crossed your lips last night, tempting me like you were a siren on a rocky shore. Do they mean nothing to you in the light of day?

Annabella

s mouth fell open as a wild quivering sensation began in her middle.

W-words?

Seabrook scratched his chin.

Let

s see if I might recall a few specifics. I remember talk of your desire to be a bride at one point.

Annabella gasped. Surely she hadn

t confessed her mother

s plans to him.

A grin spread across his face.

And kissing. You had
a peculiar obsession with kissing.

He cocked his head to the side and winked his right eye.

Even asked if I should like to kiss
you
.

With a nod, he sauntered toward the door to the great room, but he paused just before crossing the threshold.

I expect
that

s where the evening truly got its start.

He ducked through the opening and disappeared just as Annabella threw the first thing she laid her hands on.

One fine stocking fluffed out and floated through the air, only to land a few feet away.

Annabella s
ank onto the work stool and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and cradling her aching head against her palms.
It wasn

t supposed to go like this.

BOOK: Kay Springsteen
13.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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