The Short and Fascinating Tale of Angelina Whitcombe Read Online Free PDF

the light breeze as she attempted to lay down a blanket on the grass. The same wind that so charmingly pressed her skirts against her legs, twisted the blanket, until finally, Angelina caught sight of him, stopped fighting the wind, and waved.
    He had underestimated her determination to draw the castle.
    Or to have an affair.
    Heat rushed through him. He’d had his youthful infatuations and the usual affairs. Once, he wouldn’t have questioned a woman’s interest. But now . . . he forced himself to look away, go about his work.
    It was a beautiful spring day.
    After John disappeared around the bend, Angelina returned to her attempts to lay the blanket smoothly on the ground. Finally, she gave up and sat down, smoothing it out around her once she was settled. But the wind was strong and even in all of her layers of clothing, she couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm for art under these blustery conditions. She had hoped to bide her time this morning, let the idea of her outside, drawing, grow in his mind until he wanted her to come in and keep him company.
    She needed a new plan. One that involved sitting inside, preferably near the fire. Perhaps she could work on a still life, or a study of his dog.
    She stood up again, gathered her belongings, and relocated.
    Inside.
    Wouldn’t he be surprised?
    Jasper met her halfway across the great hall, sniffing about her, sticking his nose up against the large wicker basket she carried. She’d come prepared.
    She decided to settle herself in the middle of the stone floor and spread her blanket there. The fire and pallet would make an unusual subject for art. Later, though. She opened the basket and cut a slice of sausage for the dog before carefully selecting her own food. The innkeeper had prepared a fine cold repast.
    Jasper stayed close, making low, plaintive growling sounds in his throat. By the time John finally returned, she’d fed the dog two sausages, which Jasper had eaten as if he’d never had anything as delicious before in his life.
    â€œThere you are.” John loomed over her, backlit by the midday sun that filtered in, his features indefinable. Even two feet from her, she felt heat radiating off his body. No wonder he could go about in just his shirtsleeves.
    â€œWere you worried I’d left?” she teased.
    â€œTerrified.”
    â€œIt was cold outside, so I thought I’d picnic in here. You should join me. I had the innkeeper pack for two.” She looked sidelong at Jasper, who was watching every move she made. “There’s even enough for three.”
    John laughed. “I can hardly refuse an invitation like that. I’ll be back in a moment.”
    She watched him walk over to the hearth. He had a long, purposeful stride, and as he walked, the fabric of his trousers molded to different parts of his well-shaped body. He washed his face and hands in one of the two buckets. If only he would take off that shirt again. Let water pour down those muscles.
    Angelina looked away quickly, a bit shocked at the direction of her thoughts. She wasn’t missish; she was experienced, for goodness sake. But this was a pure lust like she’d never felt before.
    Her cheeks were still hot when he sat down next to her, stretching his legs out and leaning over to look inside the open basket.
    Like dog, like master.
    She pulled out the carefully wrapped packages: thickly sliced ham, pickles, cheese and bread. There were buns and tarts, and a jug of ale as well. Men rarely ate the noontime meal, and as he must be fending for himself, she doubted that, if he did eat at this hour, it was anything as indulgent.
    He helped himself to a generous portion, stacking food on bread in a thick sandwich. If the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, she was well on that path.
    â€œHow long do you intend to stay in Auldale?” he asked between bites.
    â€œI’m not entirely certain. Until I grow weary of it, I