The Highwayman's Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

sudden smile.
    “You smile.”
    Her jaw dropped. “You can see?”
    “No, not totally, but I hear it in your voice, the timbre changes to a gentle lilt as the fear dissipates.”
    “I’m not afraid.”
    “You should be. The world is dangerous.” Pushing himself up, he swung his legs off the bed, then bent down and yanked off his boots.
    Shock reignited a flurry of nerves in her belly. “What are you doing?”
    “Getting ready for bed. It is time for us to sleep.”
    “Sleep! I cannot sleep with you. It is not seemly.”
    “You worry about your reputation and yet you steal from strangers.”
    “But there is only one bed,” she said.
    “We could share. ’Tis a cold night.”
    Heat scalded her cheeks and she had the urge to fan herself, but resisted. Her gaze slid from Aiden to the bed and back to him. Sleep there. With him. “If you were a gentleman you would sleep on the floor.”
    Mirth colored his unseeing gaze. “I would, but then, according to you, I am merely a rogue of the highway.”
    Tess paced the few feet between the window and the bed. “How true. You, Aiden Masters,” she fumed, “are definitely not a gentleman.” Taking advantage that he could not view her actions, she snatched the thin excuse for a blanket from the end of the bed. “Have the bed if you must, but I will have the blanket and you may freeze in hell.”
    Spinning away she retreated to the far side of the room as a sudden rumble of laughter echoed from deep down in Aiden’s chest.
    “I think hell is hot, Tess.”
    “Oooh…” The man laughed at her. Clutching the blanket to her chest, she plunked herself down in one of the chairs. It wobbled precariously beneath her.
    “It’s going to be a long, long night, Tess.”
    “Then I suggest you enjoy it, Aiden.”

Chapter Three
    We are born to wed whom we’re told
    But rest assured the female sex think for ourselves
    So who among us has the determination to stand tall,
    stand proud?
    Mirabelle’s Musings
    London, October, 1813
    Dawn broke and still the doctor had not come. She’d given her word to Aiden that she would stay until his arrival, but with each passing hour the chance of being reunited with her family increased.
    Luther Gibbs would not be happy. Blighting his marriage plans for her was tantamount to rebellion.
    “Morning.” Aiden’s greeting reached across the room and drew her from her worries.
    Tess turned from the view of the misty dawn. “You are awake.”
    “I am, Miss Stanhope, though quite difficult not to be when one lies on a mattress I’m quite sure is made of the hardest materials known to God and man alike. Then, of course, there is the fact I froze for lack of coverings.”
    “That is of no consequence to me. I gave you a choice.”
    “Ah, yes, I remember. The floor or freezing.”
    “At least I gave you a choice, while you simply suggested I share your bed.”
    “It was a nice idea, you have to admit.”
    “Pah!”
    Ignoring her annoyance, Aiden levered himself from the bed with ease, reached for his boots and slipped them on as a tap sounded on the door.
    “The doctor?”
    “You sound hopeful.”
    “I have other places to go.”
    “Rather than tending to a man in his sick bed, I presume.”
    Tess rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his attempt at humor and crossed their small room to the door. A gasp choked her airways the moment she opened it, followed by sour bile rushing up her throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth.
    It was all over. Finished. Freedom evaporated.
    Three men stood in the doorway, a myriad of expressions playing across their faces. Two of them she did not recognize. Unfortunately, that could not be said of the third.
    “You’ve surpassed yourself this time, missy.” Luther Gibbs, cheeks ruddy, his brow dotted with perspiration, shoved past the other men to enter the room. “You’ve led me a right merry dance.”
    “How did you find me?”
    His mouth curled into a supercilious sneer, and his chest heaved,