Moondrops (Love Letters) Read Online Free PDF Page A

letter.
    “It will have to do. It is all the time I can spare. More time, actually, than I really have.”
    Hugh rose from a chair beside the fireplace. She noticed the smooth burgundy leather seat cushion held the imprint of his body, as if it had been molded to conform to his presence. It crossed her mind that he must spend a great deal of time in the parlor, and indeed in that specific chair, for his buttocks to leave such an impression. The idea was not decorous but since she had no misconception that the world might read her mind—the way her younger sister did—Elise thought her observation safe.
    That is, until she lifted her gaze and met his. A twinkle in his eyes made her wonder, for the first time ever, whether her thoughts were readable.
    A slow smile slid across his face and her heartbeat stuttered, falling prey to a brilliant flash of white teeth and a low, throaty chuckle.
    “You are a busy woman, then? You keep your social calendar bursting at its seams, so full you cannot spare a leisurely visit—is that what you would have us believe?”
    While his words seemed harmless, an undercurrent of something—sarcasm, perhaps?—made her bristle.
    “You may believe whatever you wish. However, your beliefs are not nearer the truth than the massive Egyptian pyramids are to Buckingham Palace. While you are obviously accustomed to rubbing elbows with none save the highest in society, I am of a vastly different station.”
    Emmaline remained quiet, almost too quiet, while the rake raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?”
    The heat spreading up her neck had nothing to do with her sunburn. Straightening her shoulders and pulling herself up as high as her frame would allow, Elise furrowed her brows and gave him what she hoped was a suitably stifling glare.
    “That’s right.” It rankled that he managed to vex her but now that he had there was nothing else to do besides try to gain control of the situation. “I am a working woman—” Instantly she regretted her choice of words.
    Hugh’s eyebrow nearly disappeared beneath the curly black locks falling over his forehead. His lips twitched, and she knew exactly what he was thinking.
    She looked at Emmaline, whose own brows were obscured by the fringe of tiny curls at the front of her elegant hairstyle.
    Correction. Elise knew what everyone thought.
    “I did not mean…that is, I did not say… I-I only meant—” She stammered to a halt, swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Mortification—was there any feeling more unsettling? Elise did not think there was, especially not in that instant.
    To her utter astonishment, he saved her. Chuckling softly, Hugh said, “We understand what you meant, Miss Fulbright.”
    She met his gaze. “You do?”
    A nod sent an errant lock of hair falling lower on his brow. He swept it back with a careless movement, and then nodded again. This time the curl stayed put. “Of course we do. Isn’t that right, Emmaline? Neither of us thought Miss Fulbright might be a…ahem, a courtesan, did we?”
    Was it her imagination, or did Elise see a flash of amusement in the old woman’s eyes? It was hard to tell, the look was so fleeting, but she could swear Emmaline and Hugh shared a secret at her expense.
    “Certainly not!” Emmaline scoffed at the notion. “Why, the very idea is laughable. Anyone can see that Elise is not a courtesan merely by looking at her.”
    On one hand, she was grateful not to give off the air of tawdriness. On the other hand, an ever-so-slight tremor of disappointment came over her. No woman wanted to be mistaken for a courtesan but their blatant assessment that it was an absolute impossibility chipped at her sense of femininity.
    The conversation had gotten completely out of hand. Valuable time slipped away while she concerned herself with hidden meanings and appearances.
    “We need to move along,” Elise insisted. “My point was that I, like many other women, do not keep a social calendar. Rather, I work for my