Mariel Read Online Free PDF Page A

parsonage. She had lived in Foxbridge all her life. He had been here only a few weeks.
    When he motioned toward the study, she smiled coolly. His lips tightened. The open friendship she showed Mrs. Reed would not be wasted on him. He had hoped Lady Mariel would not be an adversary, but it appeared she did not share his feelings.
    He waited while Mrs. Reed brought in the tray, and he listened to the two women talk about people he barely knew. When the housekeeper excused herself, he rose to close the door. He met Lady Mariel’s wide blue eyes. Secretly, he was pleased to see she was astonished at being alone with him unchaperoned. Perhaps she was not as immune to the pressures of society as she pretended.
    â€œWill you pour, Lady Mariel?”
    â€œOf course, Reverend.”
    â€œMy name is Ian,” he said as he took one of the warm biscuits from the plate on the painted tray.
    She glanced up in surprise before returning her attention to her task. “I am aware of that. Sugar, Reverend?”
    When he did not answer, she found her eyes captured by his again. With the sugar tongs in her hand, she sat motionless as a warmth she could not halt sifted through her, bringing a rose tint to her cheeks. His smile teased a similar reaction from her lips.
    Breaking the bewitchment, she said far more serenely than she felt, “Sugar, Ian?”
    â€œTwo, Mariel. I trust I may call you that.”
    â€œI am sure I have little choice,” she retorted with a touch of sarcasm. When he disdained the offer of cream, she handed him his cup. “You are incredibly difficult to deal with.”
    He smiled as she poured her own tea. “That is odd. I was thinking exactly the same thing about you.”
    With a laugh, she leaned back against the prickly horsehair upholstery. She raised her cup to her lips, but grimaced as the steam from the hot liquid billowed in her face. “You have the advantage over me. You must have heard of my recalcitrant nature.”
    â€œRecalcitrant was not the word your adversaries used. Stubborn is the one I heard most.” He picked up a biscuit, lathered it with strawberry jam, and offered it to her. When she accepted it graciously, he continued, “The people around Foxbridge admire you very much, Mariel.”
    â€œI know what they think of me, but I only want to help. With Uncle Wilford gone so much, it behooves me to assume those duties normally done by Lord Foxbridge.”
    â€œAnd those are?”
    â€œHelping out in the community, making sure that there is food for the hungry and shelter for the poor.” When she saw the twinkle in his eyes, she retorted, “It is important work!”
    He smiled. “Undoubtedly. But I find it strange a woman with your remarkable temperament would be satisfied with such tame organizations.”
    Mariel started to reply, then wondered if his words were meant to offend. “Remarkable temperament” could mean almost anything. She had come to beg his forgiveness, and he threw derogatory, incomprehensible comments in her face. When she rose, he did the same. He asked her what was wrong, but she ignored him as she walked toward the door. His hand on her arm kept her from reaching for the knob.
    â€œReverend Beckwith-Carter,” she stated with icy hauteur, “do not presume that your backward collar allows you to forget the manners of a gentleman.”
    She gasped as he spun her to look at him. Her black skirt belled out in the movement. Anger transformed his face. She tried to pull her arm out of his grip, but he refused to release it.
    â€œReverend!”
    Auburn brows accented the anger in his eyes. “I will act as a gentleman should when you show me you can be a lady.”
    â€œHow dare you?” She raised her hand, but halted it before it could strike his face. She could not imagine striking a minister. That was what she told herself, not wanting to admit his green gaze daunted her.
    â€œWhy