The Marsh Hawk Read Online Free PDF Page A

people wanted to speak privately. The library was the usual choice, quite above reproach. The earl had tendered a most decorous invitation. Why, then, did it seem like an invitation to a tryst . . . or was that wishful thinking?
    It was well past the breakfast hour. Emily was nowhere to be found, and she hurried to dress her hair in a high chignon with the customary tendrils that always seemed to style themselves in damp weather, and wriggled into her pink lawn dress, perfectly acceptable for daytime wear, though irresistibly fetching.
    The earl was just leaving the library when she arrived, and his face was unreadable as he stepped back over the threshold and ushered her inside. She accepted his bow, made a demure apology for her tardiness without explaining why, and waited for him to make the first move.
    He was well attired in a tan cutaway jacket and trousers with a cream-colored waistcoat, appropriate for casual day wear, his demeanor controlled to a fault. No doubt a byproduct of naval discipline.
    â€œMy lady, I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I frightened you last evening,” he said. “I needed to say that to you personally.”
    â€œYou didn’t frighten me, my lord, your costume did. You evidently now know why, and it is I who am sorry for your embarrassment.”
    â€œI don’t embarrass easily, my lady,” he said, flashing a lopsided smile that dissolved her heart. “Though there are those who take pleasure in trying to achieve it. I am quite thick-skinned, I promise you.”
    Hot blood rushed to her temples, and the fingers of a blush crawled up her cheeks. Looking into those eyes at close range was like drowning in a sapphire sea.
    â€œForgive me, but you have been crying,” he said. “Is there anything I can do?”
    â€œNo, my lord,” she murmured. Her face was on fire now. How could she have forgotten to put talc on her blotches? They must be flaming. She lowered her eyes, glad of the opportunity to rescue herself from drowning, and picked up a book for something to do with her hands. “I was distraught over having spoiled the masque,” she said. “Lady Marner put so much effort into it. I was quite beside myself over that, I’m afraid.”
    â€œNothing was spoiled except, of course, for you,” he said. He smiled and it touched her soul. “Please don’t reproach yourself. The masque was most enjoyable.”
    Jenna thought for a moment before curiosity overcame good sense.
    â€œWhy did you choose that costume, my lord?” she asked. “Surely you know that highway robbery is a scourge upon the coast these days, just as it is everywhere else?”
    He gave it thought, his brows knit in a mischievous attitude that caught her off guard. He looked more like a schoolboy who had just committed the perfect prank than a dignified war hero.
    â€œAs a protest against the aristocracy, my lady,” he said. “I was making a political statement, showing my disapproval.”
    Jenna put the book she’d been perusing to avoid eye contact back on the drop-leaf table and stared at Kevernwood unabashedly. “But, my lord, you
are
the aristocracy,” she reminded him.
    He laughed outright. His teeth were perfect and white, and provocative dimples punctuated his laugh lines.
    â€œAn accident of birth, my lady, I assure you,” he said. “Underneath it all, I have a quite provincial soul. That costume was, I will admit, a low blow, and it backfired on me, as indeed it should have. Unfortunately, you were caught in the crossfire, and for that I am exceedingly sorry. I would not have had that happen for the world, I vow.”
    â€œThink no more about it. Your apology is gratefully accepted, my lord,” she assured him, with as much dignity as she could muster in such close proximity.
    â€œWhen is the wedding to be?” he probed. “I ask because I doubt I will be invited after this, and I would