Linda Needham Read Online Free PDF Page B

shook her head. “Your visit seems to have been plagued with trouble from the start, Colonel Huddleswell. Perhaps it’s an omen of things to come.”
    He’d been thinking the same thing, on this damnably delayed wedding night, in these very close and fragrant quarters. But blast the woman for saying it!
    “What do you plan to do about it?”
    “I’m going to suggest once more that you spend tonight in comfort at the Cloak and Gander in the village.”
    “I’m staying here.” He crossed his arms and glared at the woman. “Now tell me how you plan to replace the contents of my luggage?”
    She raised her shoulders and set her mouth. “You win, Colonel. I’ll send McHugh up here with some clothes and a suitable toilet kit. And if you come downstairs for a few minutes early in the morning, I can fit you out with the appropriate tournament equipment. I’ll need to know if you’re a game man, or a course?”
    Bloody hell, that question again. At least now he knew that it had something to do with fishing.
    “Both,” he said, refusing to be limited in any way,and now wondering what the devil he’d said to make her lift both eyebrows.
    “Well, I must say that I’ll want to see you in action, Colonel. By the way, the fish start biting around half past four in the morning. Good night.”
    Then she turned and left him.
    Just like that. On their bloody wedding night!
    “Wait!” he bellowed, not at all certain what he was going to say or do when she turned back to him on the landing.
    Only that he couldn’t let her go.
    Not that easily.
    Not tonight.
    “Yes, what can I do for you, Colonel?” He heard the implied this time in the lilt of her impatience. The fire in her eyes delighted him, the strength of her gaze, its skill at putting him in his place.
    “Do I pay you now for a meal, or do you trust me enough to pay at the end of the three days?”
    She huffed this time at his paltry game. “You can settle up when you leave. You’ll have missed most of dinner, but Mrs. Driscoll will see that you’re fed.”
    He damn well didn’t want to be fed by Mrs. Driscoll. He wanted to share a meal with his bride. But she had hurried down the stairs as though trying to outrun him, as though he would allow her the distance.
    He would have caught up with her but for the great, shining mahogany and brass object that loomed like a ghost on the last turn of the landing.
    The floor clock! His well-intended wedding present to his wife.
    Blasted woman, she’d already unwrapped it and displayed it in his lodge! He shoved aside the fact that the gift had been an afterthought, Pembridge’s reminder.
    Now he’d have to think of something else to give her. Something she wasn’t already using.
    Hell and damnation! Now the woman had disappeared entirely. He looked over the balcony railing and watched the sated guests pouring out of the dining room and filling up the great room, breaking out the card games.
    And his brandy!
    But no sign of his wife.
    Perhaps she’d gone to speak with the cook. He hurried down the stairs into the mobbing crowed and cringed when he heard a familiar voice.
    “There you are, Huddleswell!” It was Fitchett; somehow he’d routed out Jared’s name. And now the rest of his party was closing in on him.
    Breame took him by the elbow as though they were fellow conspirators. “Will you be fishing for trout in the morning, sir? Or will you be after the grayling prize?”
    Damn and blast!

Chapter 4
    W hat a prickly pest you are, Colonel Huddleswell!
    And too handsome by far.
    Kate hurried down the staircase, quickly dispatching the twinge of guilt at slipping away from the man when his back was turned; but the last thing she needed at the moment was a bull-tempered, contrary guest who promised nothing but a weekend of time-frittering trouble.
    And she had so little time to spare.
    “M’lady, there ya are!” Janie met her just outside the kitchen door with a large, painted tin, her face aglow with a grin.