The Virtuoso Read Online Free PDF

endlessly, until she was a standing puddle of desire and anticipation. With nothing more than his mouth on hers, he’d stripped her of dignity, self-restraint, and common sense, probably without a backward thought when he’d gone on his way.
    â€œAre we in a hurry?” her escort inquired.
    â€œI would not want to leave Mr.…” Ellen searched frantically for his name. Good lord, she’d just been introduced to the man.
    â€œThe Honorable Darius Lindsey,” Mr. Windham supplied as they walked along. “His papa is the Earl of Wilton, with the primary estate over in Hampshire.”
    â€œI see.”
    Mr. Windham must have heard the cooling in her tone at the mention of a title, because as he and Mr. Lindsey sipped cold cider on Ellen’s back porch, he quizzed her on the tenants, the neighbors, the availability of various services in the area, and the likelihood of finding competent laborers in the immediate future, keeping well away from any remotely social topic.
    â€œYou’ll have to wait until the hay is in,” Ellen said as the shadows lengthened across her yard. “There’s help to be had for coin. Tomorrow is market day, so you can start getting the word out among the locals, and they’ll spread it quickly enough. How are you fixed for provisions?”
    â€œFor provisions?” Mr. Lindsey echoed. “We rode out from Town with saddlebags bulging, but that’s about it.”
    â€œI can keep you in butter, milk, cheese, and eggs. Mable presented me with a little heifer calf not a month past. I was giving the extra to Bathsheba, since she’s nursing eight piglets, but she can make shift without cream and eggs every day. I’ve also been working on a smoke-cured ham but not making much progress.”
    â€œYou were feeding your sow cream and eggs?”
    â€œEight piglets, Mr. Lindsey, would take a lot out of any lady. It was either that or much of it would go to waste.”
    â€œWe’ll be happy to enjoy your surplus,” Mr. Windham cut in, “but you have to let us compensate you somehow.”
    â€œI will not take coin for being neighborly.”
    â€œI didn’t mean to offend, merely to suggest when the opportunity presents itself, I would like to be neighborly, as well. I’m sure there’s some effort a pair of strong-backed fellows might turn themselves to that would be useful to you, Mrs. FitzEngle.”
    His voice was a melody of good breeding and better intentions, an aural embodiment of kindness and politesse. Just to hear him speaking left Ellen a little dazed, a little… wanting.
    â€œWe’ll see,” she said briskly. “For now, enjoy your cider. Moonrise will be early this evening, and if you’re staying in town for now, you’ll want to get back to The Tired Rooster before the darts start flying.”
    â€œTame gentlemen such as ourselves will need to be up early tomorrow,” Mr. Windham said, rising. “We’ll be on our way, but thank you for the cider and the hospitality.”
    â€œUntil tomorrow, then.” Ellen rose, as well, pretending to ignore the hand Mr. Windham extended toward her.
    â€œTomorrow?” Mr. Lindsey frowned. “Here I was hoping to malinger at the Rooster for a couple weeks waiting for building materials to come in from London, or darkest Peru.”
    â€œLazy sot.” Mr. Windham smiled at his friend. “I think the lady meant she’d be in town for market day, and we might be fortunate enough to see her then.”
    â€œUntil tomorrow.” Mr. Lindsey bowed over her hand and went to collect the horses, leaving Ellen standing in the gathering darkness with Valentine Windham.
    â€œI am glad to have renewed our acquaintance,” Mr. Windham said, his gaze traveling around the colorful borders of her yard. “Your flowers make an impression.”
    â€œI am glad to see you again, as well.” Ellen used the most