Loving the Marquess Read Online Free PDF

never have need of my assistance, but I want
you to know the offer stands.”
    She nodded. “Thank you,” she said, taking the card and
placing it on a side table.
    There was a brief, awkward silence during which she couldn’t
think of anything more to say. She had already expressed her concern for his
safety and he had brushed it off. A strange expression crossed his face and for
a moment she thought he was about to say something more.
    He lightly took hold of her hand and bowed over it. The
shock of his bare hand on hers sent a shiver of alarm down her spine. He looked
deeply into her eyes and a fluttering sensation began in the pit of her
stomach. Her breath caught and her thoughts went back to the kiss she’d been
trying so hard to forget. When he released her hand, she let it fall to her
side, ignoring the temptation to check if his touch had seared her skin.
    “Good day, Miss Evans,” he said softly.
    Then he strode to the front door, opened it, and was gone.
Louisa stared at the space where he’d been, trying to dispel the sense of loss
that threatened to overwhelm her. She knew she was being silly. He hadn’t even
been here a full day. How could the house seem so empty now that he had gone?
    She returned to the sitting room window and watched as he
crossed the yard and strode, his back straight and his step unfaltering, to
where he’d tethered his horse by a tree. She told herself she wanted to make
sure he wouldn’t stumble again, but she knew she was lying. It was probably for
the best that Overlea was leaving. The marquess held an undeniable allure, a
quality that no doubt drew many women to him. One to which it was clear she was
not immune.
    She watched him place a foot in the stirrup and swing onto
the horse’s back. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she
released it when he did not immediately fall off. Her gaze followed him until
he was no longer in sight.
    She shook her head then to clear her thoughts. She didn’t
have time for this. She had to finish Mary Manning’s dress. She let the curtain
fall back into place and was about to turn from the window when movement on the
road caught her attention. Holding her breath, she waited, wondering if Overlea
had realized he was not up to making this last leg of his journey alone and was
returning.
    She let out a long sigh, however, when she realized it was
not the marquess returning, but his cousin, Edward Manning’s, coach. Their
landlord.
    It was going to be a day for Mannings.
    She went outside, preferring to meet him there. Unlike his
cousin, Edward Manning was not ill and she had no intention of allowing him
into her home. The coach came to a halt at the end of the lane, and she watched
as the coachman descended and hurried to open the door. Edward Manning stepped
down gingerly.
    Having so recently been in Overlea’s company, Louisa could
not help but note the differences between the two men. From what she
remembered, they were both of an age, but could not have been any more
dissimilar than if there were no blood ties at all between them.
    Overlea stood at least six feet tall with dark hair and eyes
that were almost black. He was lean, yet surprisingly muscular, as she couldn’t
help but notice when she’d pressed herself against him that morning.
    Edward Manning had a similar build to his cousin, but he was
shorter and seemed softer. She knew Overlea’s breadth of shoulders was natural,
but suspected Edward Manning’s was due to padding. His hair was a sandy brown
and his eyes an icy blue that could cut right through a person. Unease settled
in the pit of her stomach as those eyes now focused on her.
    He came up the walkway, took hold of her hand, and bowed
over it. “I trust you are well, Miss Evans,” he said, squeezing her hand before
releasing it. A shudder of distaste went through her. “I’ve been meaning to
speak to you, but business kept me in London.”
    She could well imagine what that business was. No