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Wild Heart. Lori BrightonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Wild Heart - Lori Brighton


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      A SUDDEN MOVEMENT CAUGHT HER ATTENTION

      A man stalked from the house. The wind teased his hair, brushing the strands across his neck—strands much too long for any decent gentleman.

      Stunned and curious, she pushed the curtain farther aside and peered into the evening. In his hand he dragged what looked to be a framed canvas. How odd. Was he real or some mythical beast made visible by the magic of twilight? Her gaze slid from his face, hidden by his long hair, down to the sleeves of his white shirt, which were rolled to his elbows. Even from her vantage point she could see the corded muscles flexed in his forearms.

      An unfamiliar heat pulsed through her body, pushing aside the familiar hum of her powers. The subject of her fascination stopped and threw the canvas in a wide arc. The painting sailed through the garden and landed on a yellow rosebush.

      “Rather peculiar,” Ella whispered.

      He spun around as if he heard her comment. Ella squeezed back behind the curtains. The small porcelain clock on the fireplace mantel ticked the time by. Unable to control her curiosity, she finally peeked between the folds of the drapes. His gaze lingered directly at her window. For a few seconds he merely stared. Surely he couldn’t see her. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited…waited…waited.

      Finally, he dropped his attention and disappeared into the house. Ella raced across the room and bolted her door. Safely ensconced, she leaned against the thick wooden panel and breathed a sigh of relief. By God, who was he?

      Wild Heart

      LORI BRIGHTON

      ZEBRA BOOKS

       Kensington Publishing Corp.

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      For my writing partners, my friends,

      my wonderful editors and fabulous agent.

      Most importantly, for my family.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 1

      Sussex, England, 1855

      Surely God was punishing her.

      After all, hadn’t Lady Buckley reminded her again and again no good would come to those who had the devil’s ability? Ella plucked at the tattered lace on her cuff, her morose thoughts getting the better of her. As if she had any control over her powers. As if she had any control over the devil. As if she had any control over her life.

      Do not tell anyone what you are capable of, Lady Buckley’s words whispered through her memory, bringing with the heat of shame.

      Too nervous to stand, Ella sank onto a window seat and focused on the garden, attempting to glean comfort from the cheery daisies. Truth be told, she should have been ecstatic to have been given the post. From the crystal chandeliers, to the soft carpets that covered the floorboards, the home reeked of money and privilege. A privilege now extended to include her. So why then wasn’t she thrilled to leave Lady Buckley’s noxious company?

      “You don’t look well,” Fran whispered, stepping close to her side.

      She didn’t feel well either, but Ella forced a smile to her lips. She hadn’t felt right since their carriage swept through the impressive iron gates of Sodalitas Castle. Was it nerves or something more? Blast it, but she couldn’t tell.

      “I’m well. Merely anxious.”

      Fran patted her shoulder. “And understandably.”

      From her position near the walnut fireplace, Lady Buckley cleared her throat. Slouched in the chair, she resembled an albino toad keeping watch over her minions. Her glare received the desired effect and Ella and Fran fell silent.

      “She’ll mind her manners, no doubt,” Lady Buckley said, giving the old man across from her a confident smirk. “She knows the value of being a governess for a real lord.”

      He darted a glance at Ella, a flush to his wrinkled face as if he were embarrassed by Lady Buckley’s remark, when the comment had been made at Ella’s expense. If anyone should be blushing, she supposed it should be her, but she was too bloody nervous for such trivial matters. She’d been in the Buckley household since she was a mere child. In all honesty, she thought she’d always live there.

      “I was delighted to hear that you took the post,” Lord Roberts said with a gentle smile that put her at some ease. With his silver hair and soft blue eyes, he was every bit the gentleman. Yes, she should be grateful.

      Ella forced her lips up. “Yes, my lord. I was surprised and delighted—”

      A loud crash sounded from above, vibrating the floorboards and interrupting the speech she had practiced all last eve. Fran gasped and latched onto Ella’s arm. The crystal drops on the chandelier tinkled together like fairy wings. Neither Lord Roberts nor Lady Buckley seemed to notice, but lifted their teacups in unison and sipped.

      “What was that?” Fran whispered.

      Ella shook her head. “A maid?”

      She knew better than to comment on the noise and embarrass poor Lord Roberts. But really, what sort of man allowed such disrespect from the servants when visitors were at hand? Lady Buckley would have demanded an explanation and punishment for such a commotion. Ella knew first hand.

      Servants are not to be seen, nor heard.

      But instead, Lady Buckley set her teacup down with a soft clank, drawing their attention back to her. If the servants could get away with such rude behavior, what would the little lord of the manner be able to do? Her interest piqued, Ella studied Lady Buckley. Was the woman setting her up for a disastrous fall?

      But there was no cause for suspicion upon her round face. Although, the firelight did make the woman’s skin glow an eerie white from rice powder, bringing forth thoughts of specters haunting castles. As if Ella needed any more reason to be leery of the situation she found herself suddenly in.

      “Should be on your knees thanking Lord Roberts, you should,” the old biddy said.

      Perhaps it was the red glow of the hearth, or the leering shadows that danced against the paneled walls like cavorting demons, but a chill snaked over Ella’s back. Something wasn’t right.

      “A brilliant opportunity to gain entry as a governess into a privileged family,” Lady Buckley had said. But since when was Lady Buckley eager to assist her? Never had the woman cared what Ella wanted before.

      Lord Roberts cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we’re both grateful, of course.”


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