How to Tame Your Duke Read Online Free PDF Page B

moonlight striking his pale hair, and she turned away with a blush.
    “No need at all to explain yourself, Mr. Grimsby,” he said. “You rescued my young scapegrace of a boy, after all. I daresay it was simply a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
    “Exactly that, sir. As for the inn itself . . .”
    Another stir of the air. “I ought to have had a carriage sent to the railway station, of course. I can’t imagine why no one thought of it. My butler is rather old, I suppose, and unused to visitors. As am I.”
    The wind screamed, the carriage jolted violently. Emilie reached for the strap, but not before she and Freddie shot forward in tandem against the opposite seat.
    For an instant she was flying, suspended in the air, and then she landed with a crash into Ashland’s right shoulder, just as Freddie’s head connected into the small of her back.
    Ashland shuddered at the impact. His iron arms closed around them both, steadying.
    “Oh! I’m so sorry!” Emilie felt for her spectacles, her whiskers. Freddie was disentangling himself slowly, muttering, fumbling for his own spectacles, which seemed to have flown from his face and onto the seat.
    “Not at all.” The duke’s tone was even, but to Emilie’s ears it vibrated with some sort of emotion, distaste or impatience, and as she struggled to right herself, she sensed that his flesh was shrinking from hers. That his very bones, from the instant of impact, had convulsed with agony at her touch.
    Had she hit him with such force? She hadn’t felt any pain; just the ordinary sort of thud, not even worthy of a bruise.
    “You’re all right?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. His arms opened wide, releasing them both, almost pushing them away.
    “Yes, yes. Quite all right.” Emilie nudged Freddie away and settled back in her place. Her face burned against the cold air.
Embarrassment.
Yes, that was it. Of course the duke had been embarrassed. That was natural; she had felt it, too. They were strangers. It was simply the awkwardness of it all.
    “Speak for yourself, Grimsby,” said Freddie. “Where the devil have my specs gone?”
    “Here,” said Ashland, from the darkness.
    “Oh, right-ho.” Freddie leaned backward and sank into the seat, just as it rose up in another jolt to meet him. “I take it we’re near the drive?”
    “Almost there.” A pause settled in. Ashland shifted his big body. “We will save our interview for tomorrow morning, Mr. Grimsby, if it’s convenient for you. I daresay you’d just as soon head straight for your room.”
    “Yes, Your Grace.” The carriage slowed and lurched around a corner. Emilie found the strap just in time.
    “I believe they’ve already prepared it for your arrival. You shall instruct my butler, of course, if anything is amiss.”
    “Yes, of course. Thank you, sir.”
    Freddie coughed. “You’re going to have to show a great deal more spirit than that, Grimsby, if you’re hoping to survive a winter up here. Once the wind starts to kick up, things turn dashed melancholy.”
    A gust rattled the windows, shrieking along the seams.
    “Hasn’t it rather kicked up already?” Emilie ventured.
    “This?”
Freddie laughed without mirth. He rapped his knuckles against the glass. “Nothing more than a gentle breeze, this. A zephyr.”
    “Oh. I see.”
    Freddie laughed again. “You’re in Yorkshire now, Grimsby. Abandon hope and all that. If I were you, I’d be counting the days until my first weekend off and booking the early express up to London. We
are
giving him a weekend off now and again, aren’t we, Pater?”
    Ashland did not stir. “If your progress is satisfactory, of course.”
    “Then I shall do my best for you, Grimsby. It’s the least I can offer you. And I’m dashed clever, you know. Never fear.”
    “Quite clever, I’m sure.” Emilie said this with conviction. No doubt at all, young Lord Silverton was altogether too precocious.
    The carriage slowed,