Jilted in January Read Online Free PDF

went on tiptoe, and kissed him on the cheek. Her lavender scent surrounded him, making it difficult to breathe let alone think.
    For a moment, he just stood there like a pillar of stone, and then his arm closed around her waist, holding her still as he kissed her on the forehead. In the shadowy darkness, he could hear her shallow breathing and the irregular bump of his own heart.
    “You are most welcome, Miss Leyton.” He wondered what on earth had got into him, as he didn’t want to release her. He slowly let her go and took an unsteady step backward, almost falling down the stairs.
    “Wait!” She darted forward again, and his heart gave a treacherous leap of joy. “You have one of my stockings stuck to your boot.”
    He managed to laugh as he awkwardly attempted to remove the infuriatingly silky, clingy thing. “Thank goodness you spotted it. I would’ve had a hard time explaining that to Mrs. Pemberley if she’d encountered me in the hallways.” He went down a few stairs and looked back up at her silhouetted in the faint light coming through from her bedchamber.
    “I’ll see you at dinner, Miss Leyton.”
    Then he galloped down the rest of the stairs as if the hounds of hell were after him.

    Rose put on the best gown she possessed for dinner. It had originally belonged to the duchess who, having been obliged to go into deep mourning, had offered the dress to Rose. It was a pale yellow silk with a cream net underdress and a single row of flounces. Great-Aunt Maude had insisted that Rose alter the neckline into something less revealing and more suitable for an unmarried woman. It was still a beautiful dress and only a season or two out of date. She wore the pearls her mother had left her and that her sister had willingly left behind, decreeing them “too small and insignificant to be worn in good society.”
    They gave Rose confidence, and she needed every scrap of it if she was to get through the meal with her dignity intact while facing the curiosity of her fellow Beckworth residents and the scrutiny of her aunt. She had no doubt that word of her broken engagement would have already circulated throughout the house. Would the staff treat her differently now? Would she be seen as yet another body dependent on the new duke’s wages?
    Shaking off her depressing thoughts, she placed a paisley shawl around her shoulders, picked up her reticule, and went down the stairs. Loud male voices drifted upward from the drawing room. The reflected glow of the fire and candlelight spilled out of the open door onto the marble tile floor.
    When she went through the door, everyone turned to stare. Even the three elderly Beckworth invalids who rarely left their rooms had gathered to observe her tonight, plus the local vicar and a couple of village worthies who amused her aunt. The governess, Miss Vere, and her charge, the duke’s ward, were not present. A shape detached itself from the gathering of gentlemen around the fire.
    “Good evening, Miss Leyton.”
    “Mr. Ford.”
    She curtsied, keeping her eyes cast demurely down. He’d kissed her on the forehead earlier, and for one breathless moment she’d thought he was going to kiss her again before he’d recollected himself and stepped back. She was to blame for his presumption. She’d taken him upstairs to her bedchamber! She’d been in such a rage after dealing with Henry that she hadn’t thought through the implications of ordering the poor land agent to accompany her.
    And now he probably thought her not only forward but fit for Bedlam.
    The butler appeared by the door and cleared his throat. “Dinner is served, my lady.”
    Great-Aunt Maude took Henry’s arm and led the way into the small dining room next door, which seated a dozen around the table. Rose set herself to endure the next hour while attempting both to be civil to her neighbors and avoid speaking to her ex-betrothed at all. Mr. Ford took the seat on her right, which immediately made her feel better.