Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“Go.” I stepped back. “I’ll put everything back in order and join you in a trice.”
She glanced at the door and drew in a breath. And another. Shoulders squared, head held high, she composed herself into a portrait of social grace.
“Don’t delay.” She cast me a withering glare. “And if I see that disgraceful necklace again, I shall tie your wrists with it and have you flogged.”
In a swish of lavender silk, she breezed into the hall and shut the door behind her.
A rush of air vacated my lungs, and I opened my hand, cradling the precious pendant in my palm.
Crowned by a filigree band of gold, the green stone was the length of my thumb and half as narrow. Serrated cuts decorated dozens of mysterious facets as if it had been painstakingly sawed from the earth.
I’d never seen anything so unrefined and magical.
As a child of English nobility, I’d been weaned on restrictive clothing, polished smiles, and the art of dissembling. But my heart belonged on a ship with the seafarer who’d given me a jade stone and loved me for who I was. Impulsive. Wild. Rebellious.
I returned the pendant to its hiding place beneath my garments and plastered my curls into a mold of proper English fashion.
It wouldn’t kill me to look like a lady. But if the marquess liked what he saw, a wedding would go forth and kill my dreams.
If I sabotaged this introduction, there would be other suitors. Other offers. And a flogging, to be certain.
I could endure the flogging. It was my mother’s sadness that knotted my stomach in an endless loop. I shouldn’t make her work so hard to be happy. She’d pushed me into this world, and I’d been pushing back ever since. No wonder she never smiled.
With a hard shake of my head, I tested the subdued array of blond curls.
Then I heard it. The distant bark of a dog. I froze, listening with my entire being, as a second dog joined in.
My pulse careened into a gallop.
Could it be? Had I imagined it?
I darted to the window, bumping the pannier into furniture and knocking over a lamp. At the sill, I pressed my brow to the glass and studied the landscape.
Acres of woodland lay between the rear of the estate and the coast. The barking came again, and I tracked the sound to the northern edge of the tree line.
Two hounds raced back and forth, yelping their message, loudly and persistently, as they were trained to do.
His hounds.
His messengers.
I choked upon air.
“He returned.” I stumbled away from the window, spinning awkwardly in the cage of my gown. “Oh, Lord, he’s here.”
If I didn’t follow his hounds, I would miss him. If I missed him, more months would pass. More seasons. Another year. I couldn’t bear the thought.
My heart labored. If I left, the countess would pound the pudding out of me.
I whirled back to the window and gritted my teeth. “Then a pounding it shall be.”
Knowing full well the consequences of what I was about to do, I should have felt the devil’s claws digging around in my stomach. I should have been terrified.
But laughter swelled in me. My cheeks ached to hold it in. The prospect of seeing the only person who ever truly loved me sent my heart into a dizzying whirl.
With no time to spare, I gathered the skirts to my hips and sifted through cotton and ruffles, grunting until my fingers found the buckle at my waist.
When the pannier hit the floor, I tore off the stockings and darted to the bed. From beneath the frame, I removed a linen-wrapped package and carried it to the door.
The master of the house was visiting friends in the New York colony. Since he and his wife traveled with most of the servants, my departure might go unnoticed.
Creeping barefoot into the hall and down the stairs, I evaded detection. Good fortune followed me into the drawing-room, past the study, and through a maze of companionways. Not one person, from footman to butler to liveried maid, thwarted my getaway.
Until I reached the blue parlor and the sound of my mother’s voice.
“When will you return to England, my lord?”
“Within a month,” he said. “Sooner if there’s a wedding to anticipate.”
“You won’t find a more suitable bride. And since her grandfather was an earl, she has excellent breeding.”
“I look forward to making her acquaintance. She was quite stunning from my view on the pier.”
Hidden around the corner, I bit down on my cheek.
What could his lordship possibly find stunning about a fourteen-year-old girl?
I hugged the package to my chest, paralyzed by the sudden image of his wrinkly old penis in an unrelaxed state.
Run, Bennett. Go!
The parlor’s massive wooden door propped open, giving its occupants a direct view of my path to the main rear exit. But I’d grown up here and knew every chamber and passage.