A Baron in Her Bed Read Online Free PDF Page A

when we returned to France but found no proof that he lived. It was very difficult for Papa to accept that Vincent had died in the fire. It broke his heart.”
    “Have you come home to stay?”
    “ Oui. It is a nobleman’s duty to marry and secure his lineage.” He shrugged. “Even if he doesn’t feel love for the woman he chooses.”
    Simon jumped to his feet and snatched up a bowl from the table. “I’ll fetch some snow. We can melt it for water. And I have sandwiches and an apple in the saddlebag. I planned to stop for a bite but then forgot.”
    “Sandwiches?”
    “Bread and cheese, meat and pickles.”
    “ Bonne .”
    Guy watched Simon wrestle with the door as wind and a flurry of snow blew into the room. The temperature dropped, and the flames in the fireplace flattened then roared.
    The groom managed to slip through and close the door behind him. Guy was left with the thought of a feminine derrière in his mind, though where it had come from he knew not. Bemused, he recollected that he hadn’t enjoyed a woman for a while.
    Horatia was pleased to find the sandwiches still edible if a trifle squashed in their brown paper wrapping. She fed the apple to The General.
    Despite the strain of keeping her secret from his lordship, she enjoyed his company. His affection for his rakehell father, his mother, and sister shone through, and she liked him for it. She supposed he would travel to London to seek a suitable bride, but her friend Fanny, the daughter of a baronet, would be perfect for him. She was well-bred, sweet-natured, and very pretty. Horatia wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t relish remaining in Digswell to witness it.
    Horatia shivered as she checked the stormy dark sky. What if they were snowed in here for some time? The thought terrified and enticed her in equal measures. Bother! She wished she understood these feelings, so new to her. She had accepted the idea that her independent nature would result in her remaining a spinster, but now she wanted all kinds of things she couldn’t put name to, and there wasn’t the remotest likelihood of her experiencing them in this small country village. After scooping snow into the bowl, she hurried to the hut.
    “Ah, you are back.” He lowered the bottle. For a moment, she suspected that he might be in his cups, a worrying circumstance she hadn’t considered, but he looked far steadier than he had an hour ago and seemed to hold his liquor well.
    She unwrapped the sandwiches and placed them on the table beside him. “I’m not sure if you have pickles in France,” she said. “Would you prefer cheese?”
    “I have not eaten them, but I am ready to try all English foods,” he said with an uneasy smile.
    “Half of each, then.” She offered him the meat and pickle, curious to see how he fared with it. He took a bite of the meat along with a slice of pickle, and his dark brows rose as he chewed.
    “A bizarre flavor.” He washed it down with whiskey.
    Horatia almost giggled and pulled herself up sharply. “Perhaps the cheese will be more to your liking.”
    “I am grateful for the food,” he said. “It has been a long time since I ate. But your pickles might take a little getting used to.”
    “You were telling me about your family, my lord.”
    “Was I? How about you tell me more about yourself, Simon?”
    “There’s very little to tell. I work for Colonel Cavendish, a retired army man at Malforth Manor.”
    “Is the manor far away?”
    “About eight miles as the crow flies.”
    There was a pause while he studied her, making her feel uneasy. He nodded towards the door. “That’s a fine piece of horseflesh out there.”
    Horatia bit into the sandwich and took her time chewing. “The General is progeny of a stallion the colonel rode in India. Let’s me exercise it when he’s away, he does.”
    “That is remarkably good of him. Will someone be worried when you fail to return?”
    His scrutiny made her nervous. Tired of the effort to keep up the