Yearning Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

closed as the woman rubbed her body with a thick cloth, passing it between small breasts as though they were not there. Over her belly, her thighs, her feet. It was a luxury just to lie there and let someone wash her, something she had never experienced. She could almost laugh, thinking of papa parting with enough money to have servants other than Nora, their one maid, to take care of everything at Grinwold.
    When she finally emerged from the tub, scrubbed and pink, Malvina covered her with a thick wrap.
    “Sir Stephen brought a bowl of gruel and a muffin he wishes you to eat.”
    “Sir Stephen cooks?”
    Malvina giggled. “No, my lady. Cook thought perchance Sir Stephen would reach home today and kept things warm. There's more solid food if you can abide it.”
    Rebecca walked barefoot into the bedroom and looked at the steaming tray by the table. Her stomach rolled in protest.
    “You eat it, Malvina,” she said. “I just want to sleep.”
    “Perhaps not until Sir Stephen comes to say goodnight.”
    “You tell him for me,” Rebecca said, let the wrap drop from her body and slid between the heavy muslin sheets. They smelled of moor winds and damp sunshine.
    Please don't let him touch me tonight, she pleaded to that God she prayed to occasionally. Please.
    “I prefer you to say your own goodnight, Rebecca.” A quiet voice spoke from the doorway.
    Malvina had conveniently disappeared.
    Rebecca watched Stephen cross the room, met his dark blue gaze with her own rebellious one, and wondered how long he'd been there before he spoke. She was too tired to care.
    “Goodnight, my lord.”
    He didn't speak for a long time, his eyes going from the untidy fall of bath-tumbled hair to the faint outline of her body beneath the covers.
    Please don't touch me. She felt sixteen—too young for the world papa had thrust upon her. She must accept whatever Sir Stephen offered, but tonight, she needed to be left alone.
    “You did not eat.”
    “I am not hungry.”
    He tugged the sheet up around a bare shoulder.
    “Mayhap your appetite will return once you are rested from your travels.”
    He didn't smile, but continued to look steadily at her face. She thought this man with the sad eyes did not smile often.
    “Goodnight, Rebecca.” He turned and moved to the door.
    “Why?” she asked of his back.
    He turned. “Why?”
    “What could you possibly have that you would trade to papa for me? You must have wanted badly to be rid of it.”
    “It is between Sir Oliver and me, Rebecca. Do not trouble yourself.”
    She sat up. “How like one of papa's friends. ‘Do not trouble yourself, Rebecca,’ he says, ‘that we trade you between us like an unwanted cow. Do not—'”
    “Be quiet.”
    He was by the bed in an instant, staring down into the pale face, at the blonde hair tumbling past thin shoulders, suspicious moisture brightening her eyes.
    “I will not be quiet,” she said, fists balled beneath the covers. “Tell me, or is it of such little worth you are ashamed to admit it?”
    Why do I argue with this, this child? he wondered and sighed.
    “Nay, Rebecca. You are payment for Sir Oliver's gambling debt. A large gambling debt.” His voice was cold as he grudgingly answered her questions.
    She knew papa gambled. Sometimes she heard Lady Elizabeth quarreling after one of his trips when he must have lost goodly sums of money.
    “How much?” Her voice was only a whisper. How much am I worth ? she wanted to know. Papa placed little value on me until now .
    Sir Stephen looked her over for long moments before he finally said, “At the royal court not long ago, I was in several games of chance with Sir Oliver. He knew not enough to quit, and I won a large portion of his land. When it was over, he offered you in exchange for his debts.”
    Rebecca's heart hurt. Sir Stephen could not know how it felt to be bartered by your father for a piece of dirt. She swallowed before she could speak.
    “And you accepted without ever seeing