Miss Winthorpe's Elopement Read Online Free PDF

hand to knock, but before she could make contact with the wood, she heard his voice from within. ‘Enter, if you are going to, or return to your rooms. But please stop lurking in the hallway.’
    She swallowed annoyance along with her fear, opened the door, and stepped into the room.
    Adam Felkirk was sitting beside the bed, and made no effort to rise as she came closer. His seat might as well have been a throne as a common wooden chair, for he held his position with the confidence of a man who could buy and sell the inn and the people in it, and not think twice about the bills. He stared at her, unsmiling, and even though he looked up into her eyes it felt as though he were looking down upon her.
    The man in front of her was obviously a peer. How could she have missed the fact yesterday?
    Quite easily, she reminded herself. A day earlier he could manage none of the hauteur he was displaying now. Unlike some men, the excess of liquor made himamiable. Drunkenness had relaxed his resolute posture and softened his features.
    Not that the softness had made them any more appealing. Somehow she had not noticed what a handsome man she had chosen, sober and clean, shaved and in fresh linen. She felt the irresistible pull the moment she looked at him. He was superb. High cheekbones and pale skin no longer flushed with whisky. Straight nose, thick dark hair. And eyes of the deepest blue, so clear that to look into them refreshed the soul. And knowing the mind that lay behind them, she grew quite weak. There was a hint of sensuality in the mouth, and she was carnally aware of the quirk of the lips when he looked at her, and the smile behind them.
    And now he was waiting for her to speak. ‘Your Grace…’ she faltered.
    ‘It is a day too late to be so formal, madam.’ His voice, now that it was not slurred, held a tone of command that she could not resist.
    She dropped a curtsy.
    He sneered. ‘Leave off with that, immediately. If it is meant to curry favour, it is not succeeding. Your servant explained some of what happened, while he was shaving me. It seems this marriage was all your idea, and none of mine?’
    ‘I am sorry. I had no idea who you were.’
    He examined her closely, as though she were a bug on a pin. ‘You expect me to believe that you were unaware of my title when you waylaid me to Scotland?’
    ‘Completely. I swear. You were injured in the street before my carriage. I was concerned for your safety.’
    ‘And so you married me. Such a drastic rescue was not necessary.’
    ‘I meant to marry someone. It was the intent of the trip.’
    ‘And when you found a peer, lying helpless in the street—’
    ‘As I told you before, I had no idea of your title. And I could hardly have left you alone. Suppose you had done harm to yourself?’
    There was a sharp intake of breath from the man across the table from her and she hoped that she had not insulted him by the implication.
    ‘I am sorry. But you seemed insensible. You were in a vulnerable state.’
    ‘And you took advantage of it.’
    She hung her head. ‘I have no defence against that accusation.’ She held out the mock licence to him. ‘But I am prepared to offer you your freedom. No one knows what has occurred between us. Here is the only record of it. The smith that witnessed could not read the words upon it, and never inquired your name. I will not speak of it, nor will my servant. You have but to throw it on the fire and you are a free man.’
    ‘As easy as that.’ The sarcasm in his voice was plain. ‘You will never trouble me again. You do not intend to reappear, when I choose to marry again, and wave a copy of this in my face. You will never announce to my bride that she has no legal right to wed me?’
    ‘Why should I?’ she pleaded. ‘I hold no malice towards you. It is you that hold me in contempt, and I richly deserve it. Do I wish to extort money from you? Again, the answer would be no. I have ample enough fortune to supply my needs. I do