Forever Mine Read Online Free PDF

but she couldn’t remember where she’d seen it. Snow dusted the roof, and brightly colored leaves clung with desperation to tree branches hanging over the small house. She drew in a sharp breath. The art gallery. She’d been about to buy a painting of this cottage.
    A shudder hammered through her, and she pulled the stranger’s riding jacket close around her. He uttered something harsh under his breath then swooped her up into his arms again. In silence, he carried her toward the cottage. Scared, exhausted, and confused, she didn’t have the energy to protest. She closed her eyes again as she struggled to accept her situation.
    “You recognize the cottage.” The quiet statement made her glance up at him, and she nodded.
    “I saw it in a painting,” she answered hoarsely. “At the art gallery in London.”
    “And yet you still maintain you don’t know me.” There was a hard note of skepticism in his voice. “Perhaps your head injury is more serious than Bessie suspected.”
    “What? Oh, yes, my head.” She probed the swelling cut at her temple. She instantly regretted it as her head throbbed with pain again.
    “I believe the first order of business is to get you into dry clothes. At the moment, your appearance is in a sad state of disrepair, and I have no wish to see my wife bounding about the countryside in a nightdress.”
    “I’m not your wife.” With her chattering teeth, it was impossible to sound convincing.
    “I believe we should have Dr. Bertram call on us. I’m sure he would find this unusual story of yours quite interesting.”
    The threat of a doctor made Victoria flinch, and she looked away from him. Whether this was a dream or reality, she needed to bite her tongue. Mental health had only just come out of the dark ages in her own time. If she really was in the past, the last thing she wanted was a ticket to an insane asylum.
    “I don’t need a doctor.” Her quiet response appeared to satisfy him. Several seconds later, he carried her into the cottage where Bessie greeted her like a mother hen would a lost chick.
    “Bessie, I believe it’s time the countess was dressed properly,” he said as he kept his gaze on Victoria. “I’ll wait for her here.”
    “Aye, my lord.”
    “My coat, madam, if you please. It’s a bit chilly today.” Victoria’s shudder was more out of regret than her frozen state. He’d been cold because of her.
    “I’m sorry. I was scared.”
    She still was, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. With a grimace, Victoria removed his coat and handed it back to him. Surprise flashed across his face before he masked the emotion with indifference. He bowed slightly.
    “I’ll leave you in Bessie’s capable hands. When you’re dressed, I’ll take you home.”
    “But…I don’t even know who you are.” Her cheeks grew warm with embarrassment at the look of disbelief he directed at her.
    “So you’ve said,” he said dryly as he arched his brow in icy disdain. “Very well. I’m Nicholas Thornhill, Earl of Guildford. And you, madam wife, are Victoria Brentwood Thornhill, Countess of Guildford.”
    With that introduction, he turned and limped away to stand in front of the fireplace with his hands outstretched to warm them. Something about his posture made Victoria long to run to him and reassure him that everything would be all right. She blinked at the crazy thought. She had enough to worry about. She shivered.
    “Come along, my lady. We’ll get you warm and dry in a moment.” Half-hearing Bessie’s chatter, Victoria allowed the woman to lead her up the stairs to the room she’d fled a short time ago. After a few minutes in front of the fire, Victoria was feeling less frozen.
    “Here you are, my lady.” Bessie held up a royal blue dress. “I’m afraid the gown’s ruined, my lady. Thomas found you lying by the pond.”
    Huge patches of caked mud declared the silk gown had seen better days. As she stared at the dress, her shivering returned. Ice