The Lady Confesses by Carole Mortimer Read Free Book Online

from whom I have needed protection this evening was you, my lord!’ she sniffed.
    ‘All evidence to the contrary, Elizabeth—it has been my experience so far in our acquaintance that you are more than capable of protecting yourself,’ Nathaniel muttered with feeling.
    She eyed him disdainfully. ‘Perhaps that is as well.’ The front door was duly opened by the butler, allowing the two of them to step inside out of the cooling night air. ‘If you will excuse me, my lord?’ Elizabeth kept her eyes demurely lowered in front of the butler. ‘Mrs Wilson will be anxiously awaiting Hector’s return.’
    Nathaniel stood in the hallway, watching through narrowed lids as Elizabeth ascended the staircase accompanied by the scampering dog, making a note to speak to his aunt tomorrow as to exactly what she did or did not know about the young lady she had so recently employed.
    ‘I will take brandy in the library now, if you please, Sewell,’ he instructed the butler distractedly.
    ‘Very good, my lord.’
    Having settled himself beside the fire in the library, a much-needed glass of brandy in his hand, Nathaniel turned his thoughts to that strange encounter with Sir Rufus Tennant.
    He did not know the Tennant family well, had only been slightly acquainted with Sir Rufus’s younger brother Giles, before his involvement in a scandal some years ago that had resulted in his taking his own life. He did not know Sir Rufus himself at all, the other man being eight or more years Nathaniel’s senior. Reputed as being taciturn and somewhat reclusive, Sir Rufus’s visits to London were infrequent, his forays into society non-existent, and without so much as a rumour or two regarding his romantic inclinations.
    An occurrence that had, on one occasion, prompted Nathaniel’s Aunt Gertrude into scandalously musing, after that gentleman had refused yet another of her invitations to dinner, as to whether or not Sir Rufus’s…tastes might be in another direction entirely.
    Tennant’s request to call upon Elizabeth tomorrow would seem to imply his aunt’s conclusions were entirely wrong.
    ‘Sir Rufus Tennant is here to see you, madam,’ Sewell announced loftily as he stood in the drawing-room doorway late the following morning.
    Elizabeth looked up from her needlework as she sat unobtrusively at the back of the room, curious to see what Sir Rufus would look like in the light of day.
    The gentleman who stepped into the room some seconds later was probably just under six feet tall, with dark hair in need of a trim in order to be completely fashionable, with the palest blue eyes Elizabeth had ever seen set in an austere but not displeasing face, his figure shown to advantage in the brown superfine, tan waistcoat and buff-coloured breeches, and brown black-topped Hessians that had obviously become somewhat dust-covered on the ride over here.
    He paused in the doorway, those pale blue eyes narrowed as his gaze swept briefly over the two older ladies before coming to rest upon Elizabeth. He appeared to draw in a sharp breath, jaw tensing slightly, before he stepped further into the room to bow stiffly before Mrs Wilson. ‘I trust you are well, madam?’
    Elizabeth had mentioned last night’s encounter to her employer over breakfast this morning, so Mrs Wilson, unsurprised to see him, smiled graciously up at her visitor. ‘It has been far too long since we saw you last, Sir Rufus.’
    That hooded pale blue gaze flickered briefly across to Elizabeth before returning to the older woman. ‘I am, as usual, kept busy with estate business, ma’am. In fact, I only called this morning to ensure that Miss Thompson and your nephew returned safely from their walk yesterday evening.’
    ‘Ah, yes.’ Mrs Wilson’s kindly gaze turned towards the now-blushing Elizabeth. ‘Betsy has told me of what occurred. I trust that your horse suffered no ill effects from the encounter?’
    ‘None at all, thank you, ma’am,’ Sir Rufus assured.
    ‘You will