The Proposal Read Online Free PDF Page A

most winds, and even though it cut off any view of the sandy stretch of beach farther west, it still allowed him to see the cliff face opposite and the pebbled beach and the sea below. It was a starkly barren prospect, but it was not without a certain beauty of its own. Two seagulls flew across his line of vision, crying out some piece of intelligence to each other.
    He would relax here for a while before seeking out the company of his friends.
    He scooped up some small pebbles from the ledge beside him and tossed one in a high arc to the beach below. He heard it land and saw it bounce once. But his fingers stilled around the second stone as a flutter of color caught the edge of his vision.
    The cliff on the other side of the pebbled slope curved outward toward the sea. Full tide reached it sooner than it did the cliff on which he sat. There was a way around the base of the jutting cliff to the village a mile or so away, but it could be a treacherous route if one was not aware of the approaching tide.
    Someone walked that stretch of pebbled beach now—a woman wearing a red cloak. She had just appeared around the headland, though she was still some distance off. Her bonneted head was down. She appeared to be concentrating upon her footing. She stopped and looked out to sea. It was still some way out and was no imminent danger to her. If she had strolled from the village, however, she really ought to be turning back soon. The only other way back was up over the headland, but that would involve her in trespassing on Penderris land.
    She turned her head to look at the steep pebbled slope to the top as though she had read his thoughts. She did not see him, fortunately. He was in the shade, and he sat very still. He did not want to be seen. He willed her to turn back the way she had come.
    She did not turn back, however. Instead, she came in the direction of the slope and then began to trudge upward, her cloak and the brim of her bonnet flapping in the wind. She looked small. She looked young. It was impossible to tell how young, though, since he could not see her face. For the same reason there was no knowing if she was comely or ugly or simply plain.
    His friends would tease him for a week if they ever found out about this, Hugo thought. He had a mental image of himself jumping down from his perch, striding purposefully toward her across the stones, informing her that he was both titled and enormously wealthy, and asking her if she fancied marrying him.
    Though it was not a particularly amusing thought, he had to quell an urge to chuckle and give away his presence.
    He stayed very still and hoped that even yet she would turn back. He resented having his solitude threatened by a stranger and a trespasser. He could not remember its happening before. Not many people from outside the estate came this way. The Duke of Stanbrook was feared by many in this part of the country. The inevitable rumor had blossomed after the death of the duchess that he had actually pushed her over the cliff from which she had jumped. Such stories did not die easily despite lack of any evidence. Even those who did not actually fear him seemed wary of him. And his contained, austere manner did not help allay suspicion.
    Perhaps the woman in red was a stranger to these parts. Perhaps she did not realize she was climbing directly into the dragon’s lair.
    Hugo wondered why she was alone in such a desolate setting.
    The loose pebbles gave under her feet as she climbed. It was never an easy ascent, as he knew from experience. And then, just when it seemed she would go safely past and not see him at all, her right foot dislodged a small avalanche of stones and slid down sharply after them. She landed awkwardly on her knee and both hands, her right leg stretched out behind her. For a moment he had a glimpse of slim bare leg between the top of her half boot and the hem of her cloak.
    He heard a gasp of pain.
    He waited. He really did not want to have to reveal his