Snowbound With the Notorious Rake Read Online Free PDF Page A

room.’ He stopped. ‘Goodnight, Mrs Westerhill. Let us hope the snow has eased by the morning and you can continue your journey.’
    ‘Sir Lawrence! What I said earlier—if I offended you, I am most sorry.’ The look he bent upon her was unfathomable, but the flickering shadows made his features seem harsh and uncompromising. She hurried on, ‘I was taught never to let the sun set upon a quarrel.’
    ‘I thought what you said to me was more in the nature of…home truths.’
    She dragged up a smile.
    ‘You are regretting your kindness in giving me shelter.’
    The harsh look fled from his eyes. He said with a touch of humour, ‘I cannot recall I had any choice in the matter.’ He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘Goodnight, Rose Westerhill. Content yourself with the fact that you have given me much to think on.’
    Rose stepped into her room and leaned her back against the closed door. She was trembling, but not with cold, or the effects of their harsh words. It was shock at the bolt of wanton lust that had shot through her when he had pressed that final kiss upon her hand.
     
    Lawrence opened his eyes and lay very still, watching the play of light upon the ceiling. Something was amiss.He was at his hunting lodge, it was Christmas Day, but his head was unusually clear.
    Then he remembered.
    He slid out of bed and reached for his dressing gown. He had a visitor. A respectable schoolteacher who dared to lecture him—him!—upon how he should grieve for Annabelle. Well, the sooner Rose Westerhill was on her way and out of his life the better.
    It took only a glance out of the window for him to know she would not be going anywhere today. The snow had fallen heavily all night, covering the ground with a thick white blanket and piling heavy drifts against the walls. There was a knock at the door.
    ‘Come in!’
    Evans entered.
    ‘The mistress’s compliments, sir. She sent up hot water. Said as how you would want to wash and shave before you came down to breakfast.’
    ‘Did she, now?’
    ‘Aye, sir.’ The groom fixed his eyes somewhere over Lawrence’s shoulder. ‘She also said you shouldn’t dress too fine, even though ’tis Christmas Day. She said there’s work to be done!’
     
    The clock was chiming ten when Sir Lawrence strode into the kitchen. Rose heard his impatient tread and turned towards the door. Her heart, which had become very unreliable recently, leapt to her throat and then began to hammer against her ribs.
    I knew it. I knew he would be unbearably handsome!
    When she had seen him last night with his hairuntidy, clothes dishevelled and a day’s growth of beard upon his cheek she had thought him a rogue, albeit one with kind eyes and a blinding smile. Now he appeared before her clean-shaven, his hair brushed until it gleamed glossy as a raven’s wing and she was sure the snowy whiteness of his starched neckcloth would not have looked out of place in a London salon. His brown jacket appeared to be moulded to his frame, but no more so than the tight buckskins that clung to his thighs. She had heard that some gentlemen deliberately shrunk their breeches to make them fit so tightly. His certainly left little to the imagination. Her mouth was so dry she could not speak.
    ‘Well—’ his deep voice was rich with laughter ‘—do I pass muster?’
    She blushed vividly.
    ‘I asked Evans to tell you not to dress up today.’
    He glanced down.
    ‘This is my usual country wear. Nothing special. The coffee smells good. May I have some?’
    ‘What? Oh—oh, yes. Of course.’
    With a supreme effort Rose pulled herself together.
    ‘I found some muffins that your housekeeper had left for you. And there’s honey and butter…’
    ‘Excellent. Have you eaten yet?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘Then we shall break our fast together.’
    They sat down at one end of the big table and toasted the muffins before the fire. Rose found herself relaxing, enjoying the companionship—there could