Forbidden in February Read Online Free PDF

at first glance would explain the current household situation.
    He’d just come to the conclusion that he would have to seek out Miss Durham and ask her directly when he heard a soft knock at the open door. Thankful for the interruption, he looked up from what appeared to be a list of items his mother had wished to purchase to redecorate her bedchamber—a task he suspected she hadn’t completed—to find Isabel standing in the doorway with a tray in her arms.
    He rose and watched her with more than passing interest as she moved into the room to set the tray down on the table before the settee. He was disappointed to see that she carried a tea tray, but his spirits rose when Walters entered moments later carrying a second tray piled high with sandwiches and yet more biscuits. He was also pleased to see that the tea tray held two cups.
    “You have answered my prayers,” he said.
    “Mrs. Harris insisted on all the biscuits. She said you would need them to keep up your strength. She thought you were looking a little thin.”
    He laughed, picturing the earnest manner in which Mrs. Harris usually made such pronouncements. Miss Durham tried to hide her own amusement, but he caught the slight twitching of her lips and was charmed.
    Well, charmed more than he already was by her. He waited for her to sit on one end of the settee before settling on the other end. Given what had taken place the last time they’d been in this room together, he figured he was forgiven for his misunderstanding if she was willing to join him now. She hadn’t even asked Walters to stay, which he’d half expected her to do.
    As she poured out the tea, asking him how he liked his and fixing it for him before doing the same for herself, he examined her. He hated that her hair was up, every strand bound tightly, and that she carried herself rigidly. She’d greeted him in the same manner, but he’d hoped she would be more at ease with him. Surely she couldn’t be worried that he would proposition her again?
    Of course she was worried, he thought, looking away from her. If he were being completely honest with himself, the slightest indication from her that she would welcome his advances would have him repeating his proposal in earnest. Thoughts of what might have been if she’d accepted his proposition had plagued him the night before while he’d tried to sleep. It had been some time since he’d been so tempted by a woman, and it wasn’t for lack of opportunity. There had been more than one maid over the past few years of his employment who’d made it clear they would welcome his advances. But Beckworth had been a demanding taskmaster, and Robert hadn’t wanted to jeopardize his position. That didn’t explain why things hadn’t changed after Beckworth’s death eight months before, though.
    He tried not to think about it but knew that the real reason behind his restraint lay with his own upbringing. Being raised the illegitimate son of a wealthy man—one who had no difficulty casting his mother aside and moving on to another, younger mistress—had left him more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of using women as playthings. That didn’t mean he was a monk. He’d certainly had his share of liaisons over the years, but they were normally brief in duration since he didn’t want to find himself facing the same situation with himself cast as the careless villain who had caused a woman to fall in love with him before throwing her aside. For that reason, he’d seldom slept with a woman more than once, and when he did he was careful that there would be no chance of a child coming from their coupling.
    But damn, he wanted the woman sitting beside him who was attempting to hide her discomfort as she selected an assortment of sandwiches for him. Watching the tense set of her shoulders, he found he missed the brief glimpse of the woman he’d seen the day before. The one who was soft and slightly rumpled after her nap, her unbound hair hanging