The Earl's Secret by Kathryn Jensen Read Free Book Online

turret?”
    â€œVery,” he agreed. “Come along. You can tell me what you think I should do with these rooms. Most still need a great deal of work.”
    Jennifer was astounded by the rugged beauty of the ancient structure. Although modern plumbing and lighting fixtures had been added over the years, and softening touches—miles of plush carpeting, billowy draperies and immense hanging tapestries—increased the comfort of the building, tons of stone still dominated. It exerted an intensely masculine influence over every room. She felt the power of centuries of English kings and Scottish lords who had battled over Donan, won her, then lost her to the next man. She imaginedthe haunting presence of their ladies, too. Women who were protected and loved by their husbands and masters, or perhaps suffered cruelly at their hands.
    History changes little, she mused as they strolled from room to room. Men fought for what they believed or longed to possess; women loved and sometimes suffered for their choices in a man. Christopher’s ancestors, Englishmen, had come to Scotland and laid siege to this place…then held on to it, no doubt against fierce opposition. She sensed in him that same sort of determination: to hold on to the things he cherished, to be strong in the face of adversity, to fight for what was his.
    Christopher opened yet another door, and she stepped through to find a tightly wound spiral of steps leading up into endless darkness. “What is this?” she asked.
    He flicked on an electric fixture, sending a blaze of yellow light up a shaft constructed of granite blocks. “This is the north turret, the only one still standing after the last siege in the eighteenth century. When I was a boy, we sometimes spent summers here. Now I’ve made it my private apartment.”
    She looked up to see a veil of serenity already descending over his features. This was a special place for him, she sensed. A healing place? But what did a man like the earl of Winchester, so strong and in control of his life, have to heal from? His mother’s desertion? It must be something more recent than that.
    Another, different sort of thought flashed across her mind. How many Scottish lasses had been invited or ordered to climb these stairs by Christopher’s ancestors? Was she following in tragic footsteps? Her nervousness returned.
    Christopher’s hand moved up against her back, coaxing her forward. But she couldn’t make herself move above the bottom step.
    â€œDo heights frighten you?” he asked.
    â€œNo.” But being alone with you, up there, might, she added silently. “Maybe we should go back down now. It’s getting late,” she murmured.
    He turned her toward him and frowned down at her. “Is something wrong, Jennifer?” When she didn’t immediately answer, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “If I’d wanted to attack you, don’t you think I would have done it before now?”
    â€œOh no, I wasn’t thinking—”
    â€œYes, you were.” His eyes were intense, piercing, the darkest blue she had ever seen. Something close to a night sky. She shivered under their gaze. “You’ve read too many gothic novels, luv. Here—”
    Before she could pull away, he looped one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against his body. His lips settled tenderly over hers then deepened briefly into a warm kiss that set her head reeling.
    It was over as quickly as it had begun. She fell back against the stone wall, gasping for breath, gazing up at him and wondering why his face was suddenly out of focus. Her knees threatened to go.
    â€œWhat was that for?” she gasped.
    â€œTo prove I could kiss you without being driven mad by passion.”
    â€œI see.” As to her own passion or sanity, she couldn’t presently vouch for either. But she did know that her heart was thudding like crazy in her chest, and lower