A Chance Encounter Read Online Free PDF Page A

a waiter in tow, both carrying serving dishes. Finally the innkeeper pronounced himself ready to serve his distinguished guests with his own hands.
    The viscount vehemently rejected the man’s suggestion, saying at his most arrogant, “I believe the lady and I are perfectly capable of feeding ourselves.” He stared haughtily at the innkeeper and was only satisfied when he saw the door swing shut behind the man’s back. “Officious fool,” he uttered in contempt.
    He turned to Miss Chadwick, whom he had seated on the settee in the parlor. While he dealt with the innkeeper, she had taken the opportunity to remove her cloak and had fluffed her short dark locks with her slender fingers. He saw with a spurt of interest that her figure was as trim as he had suspected it to be when he held her in his arms. He liked her face as well. Her features were regular and her brown eyes expressive and intelligent when she chanced to look up and meet his regard.
    With a crooked smile, he inquired, “Shall I carry you to the table, ma’am?”
    Miss Chadwick flushed, all too vividly remembering the feel of his arms about her. She said hurriedly, “I do not think that will be necessary, my lord. My ankle is much better.”
    In proof of her words, she rose, supporting her weight as she did so by holding on to the arm of the settee. But when she incautiously put her foot down to take the first step, she nearly overset with the stab of pain that shot up her leg. “Oh!”
    A strong hand slipped under her elbow. “Allow me to escort you to your chair, ma’am,” Lord Humphrey said gravely.
    Even though the color rose hard and fast in her face again, Miss Chadwick saw the humor in her situation and she swallowed a laugh. If she had been entangled in a romantic interlude, surely her very real handicap would render her completely uninteresting. “Thank you, my lord. That is most courteous of you,” she said with matching gravity.
    Relying heavily upon the viscount’s aid, Joan managed to hobble to the table with a measure of her self-respect preserved. He seated her and she murmured her thanks.
    She watched Lord Humphrey go around to the opposite side of the table and drop heavily into his own chair. He wore a deep frown and he passed his fingers tiredly several times over his cleft brows, as though attempting to ease some discomfort.
    Joan sympathized but only to a small degree. She had never experienced the aftereffects of strong drink, but she had heard that it was very uncomfortable. Her natural sympathy, however, did not blind her to the very real dilemma that his lordship’s overindulgence had placed her in. She asked softly, “Coffee, my lord?”
    The viscount glanced across at her from under well-marked brows. His stern expression lightened with the faint smile that flickered across his face. He could think of any number of ladies or gentlemen of his acquaintance who would have obliquely reminded him of his stupidity with a few well-chosen words, if for no other reason than to hold him up to gentle ridicule. His present companion had shown extraordinary forbearance. “Thank you, Miss Chadwick.” His voice conveyed more than civil acceptance of a polite gesture of hospitality.
    Joan was not certain exactly what the viscount had read into her offer to pour the coffee, but she chose to take his simple words at face value. She was too aware of her own lack of sophistication to pretend skill at divining the gentleman’s meaning. She poured coffee for the viscount and for herself.
    Miss Chadwick sensed swiftly that the viscount was not in the mood for light discourse, and so she bestowed her attention onto the hastily prepared supper.
    She was somewhat surprised to discover that she was hungry. She had been so wrapped up in all that had transpired, as well as her daydreams, that she had not previously realized how hungry she had become. The long drive in the fresh night air had apparently worked on her to good effect. She noticed