Return of the Viscount by Gayle Callen Read Free Book Online

and certainly didn’t want to find the library in the dark. Gripping the balustrade, wincing from the pain in her shoulder, she limped up the few steps to the top, then bent down, trying to feel what she’d tripped over. Frowning when she discovered nothing, she dropped to her knees and widened the search with both hands. Still nothing. Had she just tripped over her own feet?
    But her toes were sore to the touch, and she could swear they’d hit something hard. Shaking her head, she felt her way back down the corridor and into her room, where the candlelight was a relief. She washed her perspiring face with hands that still shook and couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened if she hadn’t been lucky enough to catch herself. Propping her foot on a pillow in bed, she picked up the book she’d just finished and, with a sigh, started from the beginning.
    W hen Nell arrived with a tray before dawn, Cecilia debated telling the girl about her midnight accident but knew everyone would put up a fuss. She wanted to get on with her day, not be coddled. Her ankle felt better already, and she was determined to go on her usual long walk. As Nell styled her hair, Cecilia waited with resignation for the questions to begin. She didn’t hear anything from the dressing room.
    Nell had seen her glance. “Only you, Lady Cecilia,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess I should say Lady Blackthorne.”
    â€œPardon me, Nell?”
    â€œOnly you would marry a man ye’d never seen, from halfway round the world, and be lucky enough to land a handsome one. We all thought ye crazy, beggin’ yer pardon, but ye come up smellin’ like a rose.”
    Cecilia reluctantly smiled. “You know his features don’t matter at all, Nell.”
    â€œHmm, so ye say.” Nell continued to brush out Cecilia’s long blond hair. “But I will tell ye somethin’ ye might find interestin’.” She leaned closer before glancing out the window. “That husband o’ yours, who ye didn’t spend a wedding night with—”
    â€œNell, we don’t even know each other!”
    â€œâ€”he’s a proud man, that one. Said he didn’t want a valet, that he was used to takin’ care o’ himself in the army.”
    That gave Cecilia pause. Lord Blackthorne had been raised as a gentleman—surely he was used to servants.
    â€œWhen he needs laundry done, I’m sure he’ll give us a call.” Nell sniffed. “A strange man. Maybe you were right to make him wait on ye for a while.”
    In the mirror, she met Cecilia’s eyes with her own wide ones.
    â€œI mean, beggin’ yer pardon, milady.”
    But there was a smile at the corner of the girl’s mouth; she knew what she could get away with.
    â€œNell,” Cecilia began hesitantly, “were the lamps lit in the corridor outside my room last night?”
    Nell frowned. “Aye, they lit me way to bed. Why do ye ask?”
    Cecilia shrugged and forced a smile. “No reason. I couldn’t sleep and didn’t see the flicker of light beneath my door, and I was just curious.”
    The storm must have sent a draft through the old castle and blown out the lamps.
    After Nell helped her into a plain morning gown—“Blue to match yer eyes!”—Cecilia ate a quick piece of toast with her hot chocolate from the tray Nell had brought, then took a shawl and went outside. The sun was only just above the horizon, the ground glittering with autumn dew, the leaves beginning to turn orange, yellow, and red. Though the breeze was brisk, it promised to be a lovely day. She followed her usual route, one that led her past tenant farmers and the mill, the stables and outbuildings, where people knew they could speak to her if they needed to. She avoided the soggy patches left over from the storm, even as gardeners were already picking up broken twigs.
    She’d no