Love Then Begins by Gail McEwen, Tina Moncton Read Free Book Online

deep sip. Her husband gave the housekeeper a frown, which she returned with equal measure as she gathered the empty dishes from the table and proceeded to briskly remove the tablecloth and covers.
    “What’s this?” he said, holding up her discarded letter.
    “Oh.” Holly took another reassuring sip from an already practically empty cup and then moved to top it up before Mrs McLaughlin had time to sweep the coffee pot away, too. “A letter from Elizabeth.”
    She moved around him to pour the remains of the pot in his cup. He dangled the loose sheets in front of her with a wry smile and when Mrs McLaughlin’s back was conveniently turned, she scooped down very quickly to claim it and kiss his mouth. He grasped at her but she was too quick and under his pouting countenance she scooted behind him.
    “Och, ‘afore I forget,” Mrs McLaughlin paused and dug into her apron pocket, bringing out an envelope, “this here was delivered by courier this morning.”
    Holly saw her husband’s face darken and the corners of his mouth turn down as he took the letter and read the direction.
    “My steward at Cumbermere,” he sighed. “I left so abruptly . . . let us just say that he is not pleased that I have missed Quarter Day yet again . . . ” He looked up at her with a face so wretched and miserable, she was reminded of a little boy who had just been scolded. “I should . . . we really ought to go . . . ”
    “Yes, we probably should, but it’s too late to go anywhere today regardless.” She moved back to him and slipped her hand over his shoulder, “Are you going down to the stables now?”
    He looked out the window and sighed deeply. “It’s cold and windy out there,” he muttered. “How about some chess instead? In bed.”
    A WAKENED BY THE SOUNDS OF muffled voices nearby, Holly lay beneath the warm blankets, listening absently. She recognised the voice of her husband as one of those speaking at almost the same moment that she realised she was lying beneath those warm blankets alone. Well, except for an abandoned chess piece chafing against her leg. She kicked it away and turned around. Curious, but still drowsy and content, she sat up. He must be in the dressing room with his valet for some reason. Not unexpectedly, the door to the bedroom opened soon afterwards to admit her fully dressed husband.
    He was met with the sight of his wife sitting up in the bed, her shoulders bare but for the magnificent long chestnut hair around her like a veil. She was hugging her knees, wrapped in the sheets for warmth. Her look was lazy but inviting in its intensity and she wore the most mischievous little grin, just bordering on impertinence.
    “Going somewhere, my lord?”
    “I am, and it is all your fault,” he grumbled as he came near. “Because of you and your insistence on distracting me from my purpose and enticing me back from my good intentions with both food and comforts, it turns out I am in no way freed from my obligations but am compelled to trek out to the stables, in the cold wind, ankle deep in freezing water, pretending to care about clogged drainage ditches while you lie here all warm and cosy. It is completely unfair.”
    “Mmm,” she smiled, sliding down a little deeper beneath the bedclothes. “Drainage ditches can be very inconvenient. Hurry back, then. I’ll keep it warm for you.”
    “No, ma’am,” he said, with a smile and a look in his eyes that belied his stern words, “in penance for your obstinacy, I insist that, in an hour’s time, you appear in that same dining room we left in such a hurry to join me for luncheon.”
    “Oh you insist, do you?” she asked, burrowing herself deeper in the pillows. “Very well, my lord and master, in that case I shall obey. That is,” she pulled the sheets up over her head, “if I don’t fall back asleep first.”
    “Oh no you don’t,” he cried, pouncing on the bed beside her and sweeping the covers away.
    “No! Give those back! It’s cold! You