Through the Smoke Read Online Free PDF Page A

attempted to pierce the darkness, to latch onto the man she had come to see, but it wasn’t until he stepped into the circle of light shed by Poulson’s candle that she could make him out. There was no sleep lingering about his face, but he was wearing a close-fitting pair of dark trousers and a single-breasted dressing gown open down the front, as if he’d donned it in haste.
    The sight of his chest, covered with a light matting of hair that tapered down a flat stomach, caught Rachel unaware. For a moment, she couldn’t help but stare. He looked so different from her father, so firm and muscular.…
    Her cheeks flushing hot despite the chill, she forced her eyes up as he captured and tied the ends of the belt dragging behind him. The scars on his left hand could not extend far, she realized. His torso appeared unblemished.
    “Come in, Miss McTavish.”
    Rachel shook her head. “No. I have to get back. I only came—”
    “I know why you came. But I offered you a trade, remember?”
    The wind swirled through the open door behind her, blowing his hair. “I haven’t forgotten.”
    “Then surely you won’t mind indulging my curiosity.”
    Rachel gathered her cloak more tightly about her. The moment had come, yet the thought of breaking her promise to her mother was no more palatable for its expediency. She would answer his questions, but she would volunteer nothing of her own accord. “I have every intention of keeping my word, my lord. Ask me what you will, and let us be on our way.”
    Druridge nodded at the icy flakes falling from a black sky. “I intend to do just that, Miss McTavish, but must we do so here?”
    “I dare not dally.”
    “I will be brief.”
    It seemed she had no choice. “If it pleases you.”
    “It pleases me.”
    Held fast by the chains of hope, Rachel hovered at the portal while the man the earl had called Arthur tucked his pistol away and Mrs. Poulson lit several lamps. Blackmoor Hall was beginning to look more hospitable, but Rachel could not escape her anxiety.
    “We must hurry—”
    “You will lose no time, I assure you.” The earl took her by the elbow and guided her farther inside. “I will send Arthur to alert Dr. Jacobsen, so that when we are finished with our little chat, he will be ready to accompany us to your home.”
    He also told Arthur to have his coach prepared. Then he led her into a room situated off the large, vaulted entry. Furnished with a pianoforte, velvet drapes, polished mahogany tables, Louis XIV settees and Turkish rugs, the room’s rich textures immediately cocooned Rachel against the blustering storm outside.
    The earl strode to the marble fireplace and stirred the golden embers that smoldered there, bringing them back to a semblance of life. As he added more kindling and coal from a brass bucket, Rachel struggled to keep her teeth from chattering. What would he ask her? Would he be satisfied with her answers? Would he follow through with his end of the bargain as quickly as he’d indicated?
    She pretended to study the high ceilings and paneling of the room while she tried to stop shivering. The hand-carved, arched double doors at the entry were beautiful, as was the detail above the windows. On the ceiling she saw a painting of clouds and angels and harps.
    “Your mother has taken a turn for the worse?” Lord Druridge broke the silence as he pulled a chair closer to the fire and motioned her into it.
    Eager to bathe in the warmth of the flames that were beginning to lick at their new fodder, Rachel moved forward, surprised when the earl reached out to take her cloak.
    “I will keep it, thank you. As soon as we are finished here, I will start out and wait for you at home—”
    “What good will it do for you to go ahead of us? Doubtless we would pass you on the road. The doctor will need a moment, so you might as well relax.”
    “But I have my neighbor’s donkey—”
    “Which we will tie behind.”
    The thought of riding in a carriage, protected