The Forbidden Lord Read Online Free PDF Page A

daughter, mind you. You just don’t look like one.”
    She relaxed against the seat. “And what does a rector’s daughter look like?”
    “I don’t know. Tight-lipped. Pinch-faced. Holier-than-thou.”
    “You haven’t had much experience with people of my situation, have you, my lord?” she said tartly. “I assure you, rector’s daughters have all sorts of faces. And attitudes.”
    He smiled. “Thank God for that.”
    His tone expressed full approval of her appearance. A delicious shiver whispered down her spine. Goodness gracious. No wonder women climbed over themselves trying to trap him into marriage. What woman wouldn’t desire a man who could make her weak in the knees with just a few words?
    A pity he was forbidden to her.
    As he continued to stare, she grew hot. Quickly she lifted the mask to her face and retied it. “I…I must have it on when we reach the gardens, you know.”
    “I suppose you must.”
    Did she imagine the edge of disappointment in his voice? Of course she did. He’d merely been curious about her, that’s all. It was perfectly natural.
    She twisted away to look out the window again, but that only made her more aware of him. She could feel him watching her, interested, controlled. She only wished she could be so controlled.
    “Oh, look,” she said brightly as the carriage made a sudden turn. “We’ve reached the gardens.”
    “Have we?”
    Why must the man have such a…a rakish voice? He probably didn’t even know he sounded like that. It made her very eyelashes tingle.
    “Yes, we have,” she said inanely. The carriage shuddered to a halt as she continued to peer out the window.
    But once everything was silent, she heard it. Voices. In the garden and quite near. “Oh, no, I think there’s someone out there.”
    He edged toward her, peering over her shoulder out the window. “I see them. They’re passing the apple tree now.”
    The couple was a man and a woman of indeterminate age, talking and laughing as they strolled arm in arm. Suddenly, one of them looked up and spotted the carriage.
    Emily jumped back from the window so quickly, she found herself practically in the earl’s lap. When she turned toward him, his face was mere inches from hers. “What do we do?” she whispered.
    He rapped his fist on the ceiling. “Another turn around the drive, coachman.”
    “Yes, milord,” the coachman answered, and prodded the horses into a trot.
    For a moment she sat frozen, plastered to him for fear that the moonlight would reveal her face as they drove past the couple. But when theycleared the garden, the earl said in choked tones, “You can remove your hand from my leg now, Miss Fairchild.”
    Only then did she realize her fingers had a vise-like grip on his thigh. Mortified beyond belief, she snatched her hand back, but not before an impression of the hard muscle beneath his superfine breeches burned itself into her palm.
    He was too close, too…too… there . She tried to slide down the seat from him, but there was no more space. Nor did he move away. When she glanced up in alarm, it was to find him staring at her, his eyes fathomless and mysterious in the moonlight.
    “Fate seems to be conspiring to throw us together,” he said in a rumbling voice.
    “Oh, don’t say that! Our plan may still work!”
    “And if it doesn’t?” He was so close she could feel the ragged cadence of his warm breath on her lips.
    “Then I’ll deal with the consequences. Though I would prefer not to have been caught riding in a carriage unchaperoned with a man, it is mostly my fault it happened. You mustn’t concern yourself with it, my lord.”
    “But I must. To be honest, the thought of a continued association with you isn’t as…unappealing as it was at first.” His gaze drifted down to her lips, intimate and interested.
    Her pulse raced wildly. “You needn’t say that to spare my feelings.”
    “Believe me, sparing your feelings has nothing to do with it.” He lowered his