Jilted in January Read Online Free PDF Page A

stockings, garters, and ribbons flying through the air, leaving Colin with nowhere safe to look. “Ah, here it is.”
    She turned back to him, holding a small leather box. “Do you know what he was most concerned about?” She opened the box and showed him the small sparkling ring that nestled inside the satin. “Not that he had embarrassed me or let me down or could be sued for breach of promise, but that he wanted the ring he gave me back because it was a family piece and of great sentimental value to his mother.”
    Colin shook his head and tutted. “I told you he was a cad.”
    “And now you have seen the ring and can confirm—as it passes out of my keeping—that it is in excellent condition.”
    He strolled over and took the box from her to examine the contents.
    “It looks perfectly fine to me.”
    “Good. Will you write that down? His mother never liked me and would be more than happy to attempt to shift the blame for her son’s desertion squarely onto my shoulders.”
    “Of course I will.” Colin walked through the tangle of silk stockings and garter bows and sat at the desk under the window. He was surrounded by the scent of lavender and line-dried linen, which already reminded him of his companion. He recut the nib of her pen, stirred the ink, and wrote out his appraisal of the ring. He signed and dated it and then looked around for a candle to light.
    “Do you have your seal?” she asked, making him jump because he hadn’t expected her to be right at his shoulder, ready to hand him a candle. “The Beckworth one?”
    “I do, and my family seal.” He melted some wax and applied both seals to the letter. “There. That makes it doubly official.”
    “Thank you.” She briefly patted his shoulder and then turned away from him.
    “Did Lieutenant Woodford explain how he came to make such a hurried and ungentlemanly decision?”
    She sat on the side of her bed and regarded her slippered feet. “He was wounded and brought to a private house in Brussels to recuperate, where he was nursed by ‘an angel’ whose very presence made him yearn to survive.”
    “So he decided to marry her?”
    “Apparently she was not only English but the daughter of an earl with a large dowry. How could he resist?”
    “Because he was betrothed to another?”
    “I would not have wished him to come home and marry me and then yearn for someone else.”
    He had the most unexpected urge to walk over, pick her up, set her on his lap, and hold her close to his heart. “I agree, but he should at least have broken off the engagement before he went ahead and got married.”
    “He was in love and desperate to secure her affections before he lost the chance and she went home without him.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, he sounds like the kind of man who reads too many gothic novels and has something of a romantical streak, which one would not expect in a soldier.”
    She smiled for the first time. “You are remarkably pragmatic, Mr. Ford.”
    “I’ve had to be.” He studied her carefully. “And you, if I might be so bold as to mention it, are not acting as if you have lost the love of your life.”
    She sat up straight. “What on earth do you mean?”
    “You are more angry and embarrassed than stricken with grief.”
    The color rose on her cheeks. “That is none of your business.”
    He blinked at her suddenly arctic tone. He’d quite forgotten she wasn’t the one fondly imagining holding her in his arms. “You are quite right. I do apologize. Now, do you require anything else of me, or am I free to leave?” Inclining his head, he turned sharply on his heel and headed back toward the servants stairs.
    “Mr. Ford…”
    She came after him, and he paused on the narrow landing.
    “What, Miss Leyton?” She looked up into his eyes, and he went still. “Good Lord, don’t cry.”
    “I… Thank you,” she whispered. “Yet again you have proved my true friend.” She rested her hand on his shoulder,