The Earl's Stowaway. Krystina DarylЧитать онлайн книгу.
realized. Forgive me for ignoring you, there is a lot I had to catch up on."
She shook her head. "I was fine, and you seemed too immersed in what you were doing to bother you."
He alighted the carriage and held his hand out to her. "Thank you for understanding. Other women would have nagged me the entire trip."
She walked close to him, stopping when Christopher paused next to a man dressed in matching black breeches and coat. He had a black cravat neatly tied around his neck, contrasting well with his white shirt.
"My lord, welcome home," he said with a bow.
Melanie arched her brow. He'd given his name and yet she hadn't truly understood that he was evidently a man of some standing as everyone was addressing him as 'my lord'.
Christopher patted the man's shoulder. "It's good to be back, Lawrence. Where is my grandmother?"
"In her room, as always," he answered coolly. If it wasn't for the sound of his voice, Melanie could have sworn he hadn't spoken. His lips were as stiff as the rest of his body.
Christopher's face dropped, and then he turned to Melanie with a weak smile. "This is Miss Melanie Monroe, she will be staying here from now on."
Monroe? She thought confused.
Lawrence bowed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Monroe. I will endeavor to make your stay with us pleasurable."
"Thank you," she stuttered.
Christopher took her hand and led her into the house. The question that was on her tongue, quickly disappeared at the sight of the grand foyer. There was a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting small rainbows on the white marble floor.
She felt a hand on her waist and knew it was Christopher. After their 'encounter' that morning, she knew his touch like she knew her own. "Go ahead and explore, Lawrence will keep you company," he whispered in her ear, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from sighing.
His breath on her ear, stirred up the fire in the pit of her stomach again. He pulled away and she blushed hotly realizing she had almost whined.
She watched him ascend the red carpeted stairs. He moved gracefully, his broad shoulders stiff even with the movement. She saw him more and more like a fairytale prince than a man, or lord, whatever that meant.
"Miss?"
Melanie jumped turning around.
"It's rude to stare," Lawrence added.
She felt her face heat and she looked down. "Pardon me."
"It's quite all right. I haven't met a woman who hasn't ogled at the Earl." He grazed her hand for her to look up at him. When she did, he pointed his hand forward. "We'll start with the ballroom, shall we?"
She nodded, walking beside him.
She enjoyed the tour immensely, especially the large ballroom, the court yard and the beautiful garden. The mansion had a large Front room and an even larger Blue room. The dining room was close to the informal dining room and had a table that sat over fifty people on each side. The informal dining room was for fewer people, according to Lawrence, sitting ten people a side and two people at the head and foot of the table. Right beside it was a grand kitchen with eight cooks.
It would have made sense if all fifty-three workers lived in the house with Christopher's grandmother, but their quarters were in the basement for the men and the attic for the women. Lawrence didn't show her those, he was under the impression she was a guest and not a maid.
What confused her the most was his insistence to walk a step behind her. She thought he had his eyes on her rear, but the few times she turned to catch him staring, his eyes were faced forward with purpose. He moved quickly for an elderly man.
Lawrence led her back to the Front room and quietly bowed out with a promise of tea. Melanie sat there nervously, wondering what was taking Christopher so long. And why had he introduced her by her mother's maiden name and not her father's? Is that how they did it here?
"Miss Melanie." Christopher's voice drew her attention. She excitedly stood up and turned to him. Then she froze. He wasn't alone.
An old lady, with silver strands in her hair, clad in black, from the lace on her head to her skirt stood next to him. Her face was pulled and her eyes hung heavily with sadness. Her hands were folded at her front, and even with the mourning clothes, she still looked sophisticated and exuded an air of importance.
Melanie turned to Christopher helplessly. The woman frightened her.
"Why does she look like a lost chit?" the woman spoke sternly, making Melanie flinch.
Christopher moved to Melanie with a smile. He stroked her hand lightly with his fingers then placed his hand on her elbow and nudged her forward. She moved with him, her hand fisted in the loose bottom of his jacket.
"Grandmother, this is Miss Melanie Monroe," he said and then he turned to her. "Melanie this is my grandmother, Lady Nancy Wimberley, Countess of Ashworth." He leaned down to her ear and whispered, "Refer to her as Lady Ashworth, now curtsey."
She did as instructed; lowering her gaze to the ground. "It's a pleasure to meet you Lady Ashworth."
When her head rose, she came face to face with the woman. The closeness stunned her, and she took a step closer to Christopher.
Lady Ashworth's brow arched up as she shifted her gaze to Christopher. "She's very attached to you."
"Only because you scare her, Gran," he responded, an audible lightness to his voice.
She grunted, looking back at Melanie. "Is that all?"
"Gran, I already explained this to you. She is not my mistress." His voice was harsher than before.
Melanie sucked in her lower lip and looked down. Being called a mistress was better than being referred to as a whore. But this woman made the title as shameful, and did she know the truth?
What she must think of me! Melanie agonized.
Melanie felt small smooth fingers touch her chin and push her head up. She followed with no resistance. Lady Wimberley had a gentler look on her face that made Melanie relax.
"My grandson has told me about your situation. I am saddened that we were involved."
At her words, Melanie's question was answered. Christopher had obviously told her everything. She shook her head. "Oh no, Miss. My situation is not your fault. I should be thanking you. Christopher was kind enough to protect and shelter me."
"Christopher?" she said with a raised brow. "You first name him and he first name's you?" She gave her grandson a suspicious glare before settling it back on Melanie. "Tell me, dove, did you allow him to ravish you as payment for his protection?"
"Grandmother!" Christopher bellowed.
Melanie's eyes widened with shock. She was about to protest when she remembered how close she was to being ravished, and how much she wanted it.
She took a breath to keep the heat from rising to her cheeks. "It would be a complete lack of respect for me to speak of such matters with you. But because I am grateful, and wouldn't want to tarnish your generosity with lies, no he did not ravish me. He left me as he found me, a virgin."
Christopher chuckled next to her and his grandmother eyes narrowed threateningly at him. "A touched virgin?" she shot out, silencing Christopher.
Melanie couldn't keep the heat out of her face. She didn't dare look up at Christopher in case Lady Ashworth read her desperate look as a plea for help.
"Answer me, dove. Did he ask for a kiss in return, or a feel on your..."
Melanie couldn't allow her to keep going. Not at the expense of embarrassing both she and Christopher. "He did nothing that I did not permit. He is the only gentleman I've known in my nine and ten years!" she said firmly, hoping her answer would end the bullying.
Lady