Lynna Banning Read Online Free PDF Page A

loud in this man’s presencewas an impossibility. Already she felt her cheeks flame at the thought of such an intimacy. Thigh was just as bad.
    “White,” she choked out at last.
    “Breast, then,” he said. His voice was unemotional, but deep in his eyes a light flickered, as if he were secretly amused. “Mrs. Benbow?”
    He lifted a generous piece of chicken onto Erika’s plate as he waited for the housekeeper’s reply.
    “Chest, thank-ee.”
    The doctor chuckled. He served the housekeeper, then himself, taking both thigh and drumstick and a double spoonful of the fluffy whipped potatoes.
    Erika mentally inscribed the word chest in her study notebook. She had thought it meant a piece of furniture with drawers, but in English, she was learning, one word could have two meanings. Repeating the word over and over in her head, she watched Mrs. Benbow dip the serving spoon into the oversize vegetable dish.
    When it came her turn, she dug in the silver spoon and hesitated. The bowl looked familiar. She plopped the potatoes onto her plate, continuing to study the container.
    It was the baby’s bathtub! Erika froze in horror. Not two hours ago, she had used the same bowl to bathe the infant! What would Mrs. Benbow say if she knew?
    But she didn’t know, Erika assured herself. The sour-faced woman was totally absorbed in cutting her chicken “chest” into tiny square pieces. The housekeeper would only know about Erika’s earlier use of the bowl if—
    Her breath squeezed off. If Dr. Callender told her! Oh, dear God. Would he? Was her employment in America to last just these two magical days before she’d be turned out of this house to fend for herself?
    Her heart in her throat, she sneaked a look at the black-haired, elegantly attired gentleman at the head of the table. Calmly he glanced at the vegetable dish and lifted a morsel of chicken past his lips. He chewed for what seemed an eternity, swallowed, then opened his mouth to speak.
    Erika flinched as his gaze met hers. Now. He would tell Mrs. Benbow now what she had done with the vegetable bowl.
    “Mrs. Benbow?”
    The housekeeper bobbed her gray head. “Yes, sir?”
    Erika shut her eyes. She didn’t want to see the look on Mrs. Benbow’s face when he told her.
    “My compliments. This chicken is excellent.”
    “Why, thank you, sir!”
    Erika’s lids snapped open. Across the table a pair of gray eyes surveyed her with a keen look. One darkbrow rose in a sardonic arch. “Is something wrong, Miss Scharf?” he inquired, his voice bland.
    “No,” Erika managed. She stabbed her fork into the potatoes on her plate, nervously moving them into a circle. She kept her eyes glued to the crisscross marks her fork tines made. “Nothing is wrong.”
    When at last she raised her head, she found he was still looking at her. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, but his eyes were the same—calm, distant, except for that sudden odd light in their depths.
    All at once she felt as if her head was full of sunshine. She couldn’t look away from him.
    What was he thinking at this moment? Why had he not told Mrs. Benbow about the vegetable bowl?
    Was it possible this stiff, unfriendly man had a glimmer of understanding about how she felt?
    No, not possible. He planned to send his baby daughter—his own child—thousands of miles across the sea to Scotland. What kind of man would do that?
    Still, he had kept her secret. And he hadn’t objected—well, not too strongly, at least—when she’d spoken up about sending his child away.
    Absentmindedly, Erika pressed new patterns into her potatoes while she tried to think about the man who faced her across the table. Dr. Jonathan Callender held her future in the palm of his smooth, aristocratic hand. She had to try to understand him.
    More than that, she had to please him!

Chapter Four
    E rika gave the goat’s lead a determined tug. “Come, Jasmine! Doctor say goat milk good for baby. We will be late for feeding!”
    The