Stormswept by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online

veins. He didn’t deserve her kindness or trust. He shouldn’t desire her, or let her desire him. Yet he did, and he would.
    He held her close. “Stay awhile.” He managed a smile. “Give your mother time to plead on your behalf.”
    She cupped his cheek, looking as if she might do as he asked. But just then one of her brothers called out, “Darcy, I see something over there . . . in the woods! ”
    She pushed him away hard. “Go! ” When he hesitated, her voice turned pleading. “If you care for me at all, run and don’t come back. Because if they find me with you, I’ll be caned within an inch of my life.”
    Only that gave him the strength to flee into the woods. But he halted a short distance away and hid to watch as her brothers caught up with her.
    “Juliana, you little fool, you’re in big trouble now,” said the viscount. “Father will have your hide for running off! ”
    “You could tell him you couldn’t find me,” Juliana said hopefully.
    Her brother shook his head. “This isn’t like when you were a girl and I hid you from Father. If you don’t come now, ’twill be worse for you later. So it’s better to get it over with.”
    Despite the man’s sympathetic tone, Rhys had to fight the urge to jump out and snatch her from her brothers. But thrashing her brothers would only get her in more trouble.
    By thunder, this was a damned mess! He shouldn’t have come at all. And he certainly shouldn’t have held her again, allowing her to steal once more into his heart.
    Look at me, lurking behind trees, longing after an Englishwoman, and one beyond my station at that. She ought to hate me. I ought to hate her.
    Yet he didn’t. And given the chance, he would see her again. That was what worried him most.

3

    Where there’s love it’s all in vain
    to draw the bolt or fix the chain;
    and locks of steel, where there’s desire,
    and doors of oak won’t hold that fire.
    —ANONYMOUS, “STANZAS FOR THE HARP”
    N ight was falling as Darcy smoked a cigar before dinner on the terrace of Northcliffe Hall. When he saw Lettice leave the house, glance about her, and head for the woods, he frowned. She must be meeting someone. It had to be a man, or she wouldn’t be so secretive about it. But who might it be?
    Lettice was his , damn it . As soon as he and Lady Elizabeth married, he meant to make the Welshwoman his mistress. Though Elizabeth’s dowry would bolster the family fortunes and her breeding would make her an excellent hostess for social affairs, she was too cold to warm a man’s bed.
    Unlike the lovely Lettice.
    Stubbing out his cigar, he followed her at a discreet distance until she halted in a clearing, and a tall Welshman in modest dress emerged from the shadows.
    God rot it, he knew that fellow. Morgan Pennant, the printer. He had a shop on Lammas Street.
    Darcy scowled as Pennant drew Lettice into his arms and kissed her. Was Pennant the reason that she’d stopped encouraging Darcy’s kisses of late? With jealousy boiling up inside him, he edged closer to watch from behind a tree.
    After letting that bloody Welshman kiss her for far too long, Lettice jerked back. “I swear, Morgan, you try my patience. I told you last night, find someone else and leave me alone.”
    “Yes, I can see how much you want to be left alone,” Pennant said dryly, pulling her against him. “You certainly came at my summons.”
    “Only to make sure you never ‘summon’ me again.” She glanced around nervously, and Darcy flattened himself against the tree trunk.
    “You don’t mean that.” Pennant tried to kiss her again, but she turned her head.
    “I don’t want to lose my position. I won’t ever be forced to scrabble for a living like my parents, and that’s what I’ll get if I keep on with you.” She pushed Pennant away. “I know you printed those seditious pamphlets for Mr. Vaughan. One day you’ll be found out, and I don’t want to be linked with you when you are! ”
    Darcy’s