A Scandalous Secret Read Online Free PDF Page B

you.’
    ‘I - I do not think so, sir,’ she said, not sure if he were quizzing her again. ‘The doctor has given her a sedative, which should make her sleep through the night.’
    ‘Then why the haste?’ he asked, then sobered suddenly. ‘But you have had a very trying day, by all accounts, and must be quite fatigued. It is selfish of me I to keep you here.’
    ‘Oh, no!’ she protested softly.
    ‘But I am selfish,’ he insisted, with a self-deprecating curve of his well-shaped mouth. ‘I have been enjoying your company so much that I do not want the night to end. No doubt I have been imposing dreadfully upon your kindness with my endless prosing.’
    ‘No, indeed!’ she assured him. ‘It has been the most wonderful evening—’ She caught herself, afraid to say more, afraid of the way her heart was pounding in her breast. She did not want the night to end, either.
    ‘Do you leave tomorrow?’ he asked intently, his fingers resting once more on her hand.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ she answered, breathing with some difficulty. ‘As soon as it is light, I believe.’
    ‘Do you think that we shall ever meet again, Bess?’
    ‘It is hardly probable, Mr Markham.’ She could scarcely believe the pain she felt at the thought of never seeing him again. She hardly knew the man. It was madness!
    ‘I must see you again.’ His voice seemed to vibrate with the intensity of his emotion, and his gaze locked with hers as he spoke. She was both excited and afraid at what she was feeling.
    ‘It - it is growing late....’
    ‘And high time that a respectable young female were in bed,’ he finished for her, regaining his composure. His tone was lighter, but his look was still darkly disturbing. His reluctance to end their tête-à-tête was perfectly obvious.
    Side by side, they ascended the staircase, each with a single taper. No one else was about. They reached the door of Nick’s chamber first.
    ‘Goodnight, Miss Newcombe,’ Nick said, adding rather stiffly, ‘parting is indeed sweet sorrow.’
    ‘Goodnight, sir,’ she replied. The words came with unaccustomed difficulty from her suddenly dry throat. They both knew that this was also goodbye, but neither could bring themselves to speak the word.
    She began to walk away, hearing his key turn squeakily in the lock as she went. She had moved only a few paces when his voice halted her in a loud whisper.
    ‘Miss Newcombe.... Bess....’
    She turned at once. His face seemed strained, uncertain in the candlelight. He hesitated a moment, and then, as if the words were forced from him, said, ‘Don’t go, Bess. Stay with me.’
    Every principle which Bess had ever been taught, every precept she had ever believed, urged her to walk away. What he asked was impossible! If only she could look away from his eyes - those beautiful hazel eyes, which said so much more than mere words ever could. They spoke to her now, and her heart heard what ears could not.
    Bess had seen desire in a man’s eyes often enough. Certain gentlemen in London - some of them calling themselves her husband’s friends - had wanted more from her than just friendship. They were hunters: men who pursued a woman as they did a fox, for the sport. But she had no wish to be their prey, for she knew instinctively that they would take far more from her than theycould ever give in return.
    But this man’s eyes were different. There was a light in them which promised something wonderful. He did not wish to take but to share - to give as well as receive pleasure. For the first time in her life, Bess saw more than mere lust in a man’s gaze.
    There was an instant, even then, when she almost withdrew. But when he held out his hand - neither demanding nor begging, but simply offering - she took it. When he drew her into the shadowed chamber and closed the door softly behind them, she made no protest. And when his lips closed gently but with compelling warmth over hers, she gave herself up to him with a completeness which