Bound By A Scandalous Secret. Diane GastonЧитать онлайн книгу.
even lovelier than she’d appeared before. Her hair glittered like threads of gold and her blue eyes were like sapphires, shadowed by long lashes. What might it be like to comb his fingers through those golden locks and to have her eyes darken with desire?
He stepped back.
For all the scandal in her family she was still a respectable young woman. A dalliance with her would only dishonour her and neither she nor he wished for something more honourable—like marriage.
The time was nearing when he would be forced to pick among the daughters of the ton for a wife worthy of becoming a duchess. Not yet, though. Not yet.
She looked up at him. ‘What should I do with it?’
‘Take it, if you wish. It is yours.’
Her brow creased. ‘Would Lord Penford mind, do you think? He might not like knowing I was poking through the attic.’
He shrugged. ‘I cannot think he would care.’
She stood and, clutching her sketchbook in one hand, brushed off her skirt with the other. ‘We were not supposed to take anything but personal items.’
He pointed to the book. ‘This is a personal item.’
She stroked it. ‘I suppose.’
He crouched down to pick up the lamp. ‘In any event, we should probably make our way back to the drawing room.’
She nodded.
He helped her through the door and down the stairs. She led him through the secret corridor down more stairs to the main floor where they heard their names called.
‘Genna! Where are you?’ her sister cried.
‘Ross! We need you!’ Dell’s voice followed.
Genna giggled. ‘They must think we have disappeared into thin air.’
‘Does your sister not know of the secret passageway?’
‘She knows of it, but we really stopped using it years ago.’ She paused. ‘At least Lorene and Tess did.’ She seized his hand. ‘Come. We’ll walk out somewhere where we will not be seen emerging from the secret passageway.’
They entered another hallway, and Ross had no idea where they were.
‘This is the laundry wing.’ She led him to a door that opened on to the stairway hall, but before stepping into the hall, she placed her sketchbook just inside the secret passage.
‘Genna!’ her sister called again, her voice coming from the floor above.
‘We are here!’ Genna replied, closing the door which looked nearly invisible from this side. ‘At the bottom of the stairs.’
Her sister hurried down the stairs, Dell at her heels. ‘Where have you been? We have been searching for you this half-hour!’
Genna sounded all innocence. ‘I was showing Lord Rossdale the house. We just finished touring the laundry wing.’
‘The laundry wing!’ Lady Tinmore cried. ‘What nostalgia did you have for the laundry wing?’
‘None at all,’ Genna retorted. ‘I merely thought it would interest Lord Rossdale.’
‘I assure you, it did interest me,’ Ross replied as smoothly as his companion. ‘I am always interested in how other houses are run.’
Dell tossed him a puzzled look and Ross shook his head to warn his friend not to ask what the devil he was about.
‘Never mind.’ Genna’s sister swiped the air impatiently. ‘The weather has turned dreadful. Jeffers has called for the carriage. We must leave immediately.’
Genna sobered and nodded her head. ‘Of course.’
Jeffers appeared with their cloaks and Ross hurriedly helped Genna into hers. As they rushed to the front door and opened it, a footman, his shoulders and hat covered with snow, was climbing the stairs.
‘The coachman says he cannot risk the trip,’ the footman said, his breath making clouds at his mouth. ‘The weather prevents it.’
They looked out, but there was nothing to see but white.
‘Oh, no!’ Lady Tinmore cried.
Genna put her hands on her sister’s shoulders and steered her back inside. ‘Do not worry, Lorene. This could not have been helped.’
‘We should have left earlier,’ she cried.
‘And you would have been caught on the road in this,’ Dell said. ‘And perhaps stranded all night. We will make you comfortable here. I will send a messenger to Lord Tinmore as soon as it is safe to do so.’
‘We will have to spend the night?’ Lorene asked.
‘It cannot be helped,’ Genna said to her. ‘We will have to spend the night.’
The lovely evening was over.
Although Lord Penford had tea brought into the drawing room, Lorene’s nerves and Penford’s coolness spoiled Genna’s mood. Lorene was worried, obviously, about what Lord Tinmore would say when they finally returned and who knew why Penford acted so distantly to them? Why had he invited them if he did not want their company? Had he done so out of some sense of obligation? Even so, it was Lord Tinmore who’d compelled them to accept the invitation and she and Lorene certainly had not caused it to snow.
Not that it mattered. If Tinmore wished to ring a peal over their heads, reason would not stop him.
All the enjoyment had gone out of the evening, though.
Lord Penford poured brandy for himself and Rossdale and sat sullenly sipping from his glass while Rossdale and Genna made an effort to keep up conversation. With no warning Penford stood and announced he was retiring for the night. Rossdale was kind enough to keep Genna and Lorene company until the housekeeper announced that their bedchambers were ready. At that point they also felt they must say goodnight.
The housekeeper led them upstairs. ‘We thought you might like to spend the night in your old rooms, so those are what we prepared for you.’
‘Thank you,’ Lorene said.
Genna gave the woman whom she’d known her whole life a hug. ‘Yes, thank you. You are too good to us.’
The older woman hugged her back. ‘We’ve found clean nightclothes for you, as well. Nellie and Anna will help you.’ Nellie and Anna had served as their ladies’ maids before they’d moved.
They bade the housekeeper goodnight and Genna entered her bedchamber for the second time that night. At least now there was a fire in the grill and a smiling old friend waiting for her.
‘How nice it is that you can stay the night,’ Anna said. ‘In your old room. Like old times.’
‘It is grand!’ Genna responded.
Anna helped her out of her dress and into a nightgown.
‘Come sit and I’ll comb out your hair,’ Anna said.
Genna sat at her old familiar dressing table and gazed in her old familiar mirror. ‘Tell me,’ she said after a time. ‘What are the servants saying about Lord Penford?’
Anna untied the ribbon in her hair. ‘We are grateful to him. He kept most of us on and we did not expect that. He does seem angry when he learns of some new repair to the house, but his anger is never directed at the servants.’
‘He must be angry at my father, then,’ Genna said. Did his anger extend to the daughters, too? That might explain why he was so unfriendly.
‘I suppose you are right.’ She pulled out Genna’s hairpins