Christmas By Candlelight: Two Regency Holiday Novellas Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    Don’t be a goose, she chided herself. Just because he showed a flash of wit and an attractive smile was no reason to imagine he actually possessed some real depth of character. His own words had warned her not to expect anything out of the ordinary from him.
    Several minutes later, His Lordship climbed into the coach. Without a word, he settled himself in the opposite comer and cracked a book. A surreptitious glance showed it was not Byron, but a thick tome on the history of the Byzantine Empire. No wonder he looked so glum if that was the sort of reading he chose for relaxation.
    Anna returned to her own book, the latest work by Miss Austen. Her teachers had frowned on such novels for young ladies. And it was no wonder, for with a sharp eye and dry wit, the author masterfully exposed the frailties and foibles of Society. Which was, of course, exactly why Anna found them highly entertaining, even though her laughter was often tempered by a twinge of pain as the observations cut close to home.
    The truth hurt at times. She was not so vain as to think her uncle and her acquaintances were the only ones with faults. Like Elizabeth Bennett, she had her own prejudices, and a tendency to be headstrong and highly opinionated. Still, Anna took heart in knowing that she wasn’t alone in seeing the absurdities and unfairness in life.
    At least with her nose buried in the pages, she felt she was in the presence of a kindred soul.
    Until Lord Killingworth’s grumble reminded her of another, more unwelcome presence. “Now what is the delay?” he muttered.
    “John Coachman is quite thorough in checking that all is in order before setting out,” she replied, not looking up from her book. “I imagine he has found some buckle or bolt that needs attending to.”
    Her amusement over a particularly pithy observation on the page was interrupted by a low snort of air. One that sounded suspiciously like a word that should not have been uttered in front of a lady.
    “Really, sir, you have a devil of a temper,” she observed without shifting her gaze.
    “Me?” His response bristled with indignation. “Ha! I am known for my even disposition.”
    “Right,” she shot back. “You are always horribly irritable.”
    Nicholas drew in a sharp breath. “What makes you say that?”
    “To begin with, from the moment you stormed into the inn last night, you have been loud, rude and overbearing, expecting everyone in your path to bow to your needs.”
    Leather crackled as he shifted uncomfortably on the seat. “I was not aware you overheard my arrival,” he said. “I. . . I cannot blame you for thinking me an oaf. The truth is, I haven’t been at my best lately.”
    Surprised at the unexpected frankness, Anna found herself curious. “Is there a reason?”
    She half expected him to tell her to mind her own business, but after a stretch of silence, he cleared his throat. “If you must know, I would rather be spending Christmas in the country with my friends, so I am not particularly pleased at having been summoned back to Town.”
    A sidelong glance showed that his grip on his book was in danger of splitting the spine.
    “However,” he went on tightly. “When duty calls, I have no choice but to come running like an obedient hound.”
    “I thought only females were on such a tight leash.”
    “There is much about the real world that they don’t teach you at Mrs. Franklin’s Academy for Select Young Ladies.” The note of mockery was directed more at himself than at her. “Gentlemen may appear to have the freedom to roam at will, but trust me, the collar, however subtle, can be just as choking. I—” Nicholas abruptly snapped his book shut. “I shall just have a look at what is holding us up.”
    Between the jangle of the harness and the whisper of her own conflicted thoughts, Anna could not make out the muffled exchange between Lord Killingworth and her driver. Whatever it was, the discussion did not last long. The arrival of