Wolf of Arundale Hall Read Online Free PDF Page B

had the red face and sloppy dress of an inveterate bounder.
    Of course, five years ago she’d learned the reason behind Perry’s drinking and carousing, as well as her husband’s abandonment. But when she’d tried to broach the subject with her brother-in-law he’d refused to listen. Another failure.
    “Well?” he snapped.
    “Joshua is coming home,” she told him. Suddenly, she hated them all—Perry, Melinda, even poor Gerry. They were parasites, perfectly willing to let Joshua pay for their inability to function.
    Perry blinked. “Joshua is coming home?”
    She met his gaze steadily. “He is. Perhaps he’s tired of running from who he is?”
    Perry glared at her. “Don’t, Elizabeth.”
    She tightened her lips. “Don’t what? For all these years I’ve followed you into the dankest and darkest places in England and you still won’t let me really help you.”
    “You’re not family,” he said coldly.
    Her heart tore at that comment. Yes, that was true. She was not an Arundale—married to one, but not part of the family. Early in their relationship Perry had needed her, had treated her like an older sister. But lately he had distanced himself, implying that his well-being was not her business. In every way that Perry could say Elizabeth did not belong, he said it. Today was just the day he’d said it bluntly.
    She nodded slowly. “A day for truths, apparently. Well, here’s one for you, Perry. I will no longer chase you down in your disgusting journey to deny who you are. Joshua will be home. He can do it.” She turned her back and strode down the corridor. “In fact, do as you wish with your apartments. I don’t care.”

Chapter Four
    Home. Joshua stared at the moors that stretched for miles before him but indicated that he was close to Arundale. The smell of the heather hit him first, then the wind battered him. His home was no gentle escape but a dominating slap on the back. It made him feel his heritage to his bones.
    With Jaimison by his side Joshua galloped the last three miles, reveling in the familiar trails and unchanged landscape. Ten years and yet the land endured.
    The man who took his horse was a stranger but he kept his head down and his mouth shut. Joshua snapped out instructions. “Walk him for ten minutes before you brush him down.” He glanced at Jaimison. “Will you be coming in with me?”
    “Do you wish me to, my lord?”
    Joshua noted that the stable man started and stared at him. “To pay my respects to my wife? Yes, I do wish it. She would be offended if you didn’t.”
    “Will you want your horse in the morning?” the stable man asked him. Joshua glanced at him. So Elizabeth had given some instructions. She’d remembered that he rode in the early morning. What other arrangements had his wife made?
    “Yes. At six. I’m an early riser.”
    The man turned a clear gaze on him. “Yes, my lord.”
    Joshua liked the look of the man. “What’s your name?”
    “Botter. Harold Botter. I’ve been with Lady Arundale for six years now.” The man’s hands were calloused and rough, but Joshua noted that they were gentle when he touched the horses. The stable seemed well cared for, but there were fewer horses than when he’d left Arundale. Only three horses occupied an area that had housed five or six when his father had been alive.
    “Which is my wife’s horse?”
    Botter glanced at Jaimison, who kept his gaze out of the stable door. “The big black, my lord.”
    Joshua followed Botter’s nod and noted a monster horse, a mare, but large and muscular. Most women would prefer a gentle brown filly but it appeared his wife rode the devil himself in equine form.
    The stable hand took a deep breath. “She’s a nightmare to ride for anyone but her, she is. Best bit ’o horseflesh I ever seen, but you won’t catch me ridin’ her. Not for all the Leprechaun’s gold.” The man’s gaze rested on the huge horse. “Peas in a pod, that Shadow and her. Ride like the hounds