A Woman Scorned by Liz Carlyle Read Free Book Online

his murmuring some remarkably sweet platitude into her ear at a time when she had so desperately needed it. There had been no mistaking his inherent warmth and kindness. And then, a fleeting kiss—firm, heated lips pressed to her brow—and he was gone from her life. The rest of that fearful day had been obscured by a cloud of apprehension. Nonetheless, those indistinct memories of Cousin Cole were warm, almost comforting, and not at all unpleasant.
    It struck her as odd that it should be so. Her mind raced. Amherst was a cousin by marriage, a relation of James’s wife, and not a Rowland at all. How fortunate for him. “Your pardon,” she said stiffly. “I do seem to recall you now.”
    “I am inordinately relieved,” he sarcastically replied.
    She looked up at him then, preparing to lash out again. But she was not prepared for the hot stab of desire that knifed through her belly. Though the sweet memory lingered, the quaint, callow youth was gone, and the hardeyed, cynical officer was back. Amherst lifted his golden eyes to hers and pinned her with another long, steady stare that told her she had no control over him whatsoever. That whatever he might once have been, she would never be able to intimidate him now. And yet, it was a look rich with promise; the knowing look of a man who was sure of himself, in a steadfast, unpretentious way.
    But how fanciful such thoughts were! She was no green girl. She could not possibly lust after a man she scarcely remembered, and particularly not this one. It was the strain, no doubt, of the last four months. It was simply time for a different approach. “I am persuaded, Captain,” she said, her voice surprisingly even, “that we should discuss this strange situation in which we find ourselves. Please, will you not sit down?”
    The civility of her request seemed to placate Amherst, and he crossed the room to take the same seat she had previously ordered him toward. As he settled his long length into the delicate chair, Jonet noticed that he carried a thin leather folio in his left hand.
    The captain waited until Jonet was seated before speaking. “Ma’am,” he began, looking a trifle vexed, “I find I cannot account for the brevity of my uncle’s letter to you. I had understood that he would inform you of my circumstances and background, and that the decision was to be yours. As you see by my attire, I have no real need of a position.”
    Jonet interrupted him. “And are you qualified to be a tutor, sir?” she asked skeptically.
    Stiffly, Captain Amherst inclined his head. “I daresay some might consider me so. However, I expect to return to garrison duty shortly. I have reluctantly answered my uncle’s summons, but since you seem to require assistance even less than I wish to give it, I see no need in prolonging this meeting.”
    “I . . . well, that is to say, I am not perfectly sure,” she stammered, unaccountably flustered, and suddenly eager to stall for time. She licked her lips uncertainly. Really, what
was
James up to? “Perhaps,” she said slowly, “you might enlighten me as to why your uncle feels you are qualified to teach my sons.”
    Jonet studied him intently, her curiosity fully engaged. Cole Amherst had the golden, glittery eyes of a tiger. At times, they seemed almost heavy with sleep, and then abruptly, they would flare to life. As if to further emphasize their beauty, he drew a pair of eyeglasses from his pocket and settled them onto his nose. Another shard of bitter-sweet recollection pierced her at the sight, and she remembered again the shy young man who had once shown her a small but unselfish act of kindness.
    If he had hoped to make himself appear more studious, it was something of a failed effort. He simply looked more solemn. “Of course,” he replied, flipping open his folio with an efficient snap. For a fleeting moment, Jonet found herself wondering if he disliked James as much as she. There was a dark, restrained undertone in his