The Outcast Earl Read Online Free PDF Page B

be happy to sit and rest for a few moments until I come back.” He glanced at Abigail, who busied herself with attempting to replace her slipper, deliberately avoiding his glance. She had no intention of reclining on the chaise until his return, but saw no reason to inform him of the fact.
    He wouldn’t dare cause a scene when she was with her aunt, even if that aunt was sleeping, and at least a few servants were certain to be in the room.
    He wouldn’t dare. Would he?
    Abigail collected loose cotton slippers from her room and went directly to her aunt’s chamber. She kissed the lady’s cheek and inspected the wound Dr Franklin had meticulously cleaned as the maid slipped out for new washing water. She’d just seated herself in a chair near the bed when the door to Aunt Betsy’s chamber was flung open. Gasping, she glanced up as the Earl of Meriden strode through with as much circumspection as a frigate in Derbyshire.
    He spoke not a word, but stood before her, the scowl on his face darker than ever. Conscious of her exhaustion and her mostly bloodshot eyes, Abigail still sat proudly erect on the chair’s edge, her body properly poised for discussion. Rapidly processing his apparent unhappy mood, she improvised as much of a self-introduction as possible as she stood. “Lady Abigail de Rothesay, as you know, my lord. A pleasure to meet you,” she finished, bobbing a proper curtsy and retaking her seat.
    If anything, his frown darkened. “Of all the witless, senseless, disobedient—” he began, then broke off the words. “My name is Charles.”
    To her surprise, he bent down and lifted her, his arm sliding beneath her knees and his other holding her up against his chest. Abigail squealed and now returned his glare, helpless to do anything but grab the front of his coat and hang on. Without a word, he turned and strode from the room, stopping abruptly in the corridor beyond the door. A footman and two maids immediately materialised from deeper in the corridor. Ignoring Abigail’s indignant squirming in his arms, he said to them, “Please arrange for someone to sit with Lady Arlington and a maid to sit with Lady Abigail. They may need assistance during the night.”
    Without waiting for an answer, he continued to Abigail’s door and pushed it open, then strode in. Making directly for the bed, he dropped her unceremoniously on it. When Abigail sat up, Meriden held up a hand and said stiffly, “If you know what is good for you, you’ll stay in that bed until tomorrow morning. If—and only if—you can walk without limping, I shall see you in the library at ten, as Dr Franklin has assured both of us Lady Arlington will sleep until after the lunch hour. However, if I find you anywhere in the house besides this bed before that hour, I shall not be held responsible for the consequences.”
    Inhaling abruptly, Abigail began to speak. “Why, you—” But by then he had already turned and was making for the door.
    With no more ceremony than that, he shut the door hard behind him, leaving Abigail to stare indignantly at the inside panels. “You brute,” she finally seethed.
    To her surprise, the door opened just as the word ended and, after a startled moment where she imagined Meriden might have heard her and was returning, Abigail realised it was simply the maid who had helped her earlier.
    “Are you ready for bed then, milady?” she asked cheerfully and, with a sigh, Abigail nodded. Surely the man wouldn’t be up all night. By most customs, he’d be awake until the early morning hours and then sleep late into the morning, probably rolling out of bed just in time for the hour of their appointed discussion. She’d check on Aunt Betsy then, when all was quiet—by dawn at the latest.
    In the meantime, she could think about him. About all that was different about him. She hadn’t realised it at first, when they were out in the dark carriage, but it had struck her even in that short distance between Aunt Betsy’s