A Lady's Wish Read Online Free PDF Page A

“But you needn’t worry. Help will be along shortly and we will be on our way to a nice cozy inn before we know it.”
    “Dear me, Patricia.” Aunt Elsbeth’s thin, tripping tones were somewhat musical. “You do say the oddest things.”
    She laughed. “But it is true, Aunt Elsbeth.”
    “I daresay that farm will do well enough for the afternoon.” The elderly lady bobbed her head, a tangled mass of silk flowers jiggling in reds, blues and yellows atop her bonnet, crinkles at the edges of her mouth.
    Patricia peered out the window. “Did you see a farm, then?”
    “Oh, no, my dear. Not for months now.”
    Patricia flicked her gaze to her sister. Calanthia grinned and rolled her bright eyes, then tucked her hand in Aunt Elsbeth’s elbow.
    “Auntie, tell us at what distance we sit now from that farm, if you will.”
    “We are a quarter mile past it, I should say.”
    Callie cuddled closer to the elderly lady. “And what are they serving for dinner today at the farm?”
    “Mutton stew.”
    “There, Tricky. We shall have mutton stew in short order. Shall we walk? Although it would be a great deal more diverting to remain here and be accosted by a highwayman, I suspect. I have heard such bandits are excessively roguish.”
    Patricia tried not to smile. Aunt Elsbeth would meander, and Callie would play, just as they did at home in London. They seemed content enough, despite the cold creeping through gloves and shoes.
    “Mum,” Carr called from without. “Rider’s coming along.”
    She opened the door and poked her head out.
    “Does it look like a highwayman, Tricky?”
    “I am not perfectly familiar with the physical attributes of highwaymen, sister, but I shall ask him. If he replies in the affirmative I will inform you directly.”
    “Splendid!”
    The rider neared. Unfortunately for Calanthia, he looked unexceptionably like a gentleman, in an elegant caped greatcoat and brimmed hat, a saddle pack behind him. His handsome horse loped along the muddy road with ease. Patricia set her foot upon the step.
    “Ask him about the farm,” Callie chirped.
    Patricia grinned and climbed out into the drizzle.
    “He has slowed his horse to a walk, Auntie.” Callie peeked out and narrated for Aunt Elsbeth within. “Oh, bother. He is dismounting. That is certainly not the action of a bandit. He is very tall and walks with great confidence, but he brandishes no pistol. How disappointing.”
    “Calanthia,” Patricia whispered, “be still.” She adopted a gracious smile and turned to the gentleman walking toward the carriage. “Good day, sir. I wonder if we might prevail upon you to . . .”
    She got no further.
    He halted as her speech did, four yards away.
    Her breathing stopped.
    His eyes widened for an instant. Green eyes. She knew this even across the space between them now.
    She knew it from her memory.
    It was he . Tristan. After nine years.
    But she must be wrong. This man’s face was not the same as in her memory. In the pale light of the misty day his skin appeared tanned. A firm jaw and smooth cheeks flanked not smiling lips and a long straight nose, but the hard line of a mouth and a nose at least once broken.
    His lips parted slightly, as though he might speak. Then he removed his hat and bowed with military precision. His hair was as she remembered it, nearly black although very short. He straightened and replaced the hat, obscuring in shadow once more the dark, rich emeralds that had once gazed at her with thorough longing.
    “Good day, madam. May I be of assistance?”
    Patricia could not find her voice. His was the same, only altered slightly, deepened by the breadth of his chest which seemed wider. His shoulders as well. The years had rendered the youth a man.
    “Tricky,” her sister whispered and poked her in the kidneys.
    Patricia knew not how she managed to curtsy. Her breaths would not return to her compressed chest and her entire body felt shaky. She had not until this moment realized