The Uncatchable Miss Faversham by Elizabeth Moss Read Free Book Online

doubt, come straight from Town. But my sister makes an early night most evenings and I would not care to see her fatigued.’
        Eleanor could not respond at first but nodded, then managed a muttered ‘Good day, my lord,’ wishing she could be at the opposite end of the earth.
        He did not move but sat on his horse, watching her careful descent of the steep muddy track towards the lake.
        Her feet slipped a few times, and she steadied herself on the slope, listening for the sound of his horse departing. But there was nothing but silence from above.
        This was the final indignity, Eleanor thought, to feel those dark eyes burning into her back at every step and know she must look like the simplest country maid, out on a jaunt in her third-best gown!
        Then, just as she thought herself safe, her booted foot slid over a particularly muddy patch and she tumbled backwards with a cry, unable to save herself. Landing in an undignified position in the mud, red-faced and half on her side, she attempted to right herself again.
        Before she could even lever herself into a sitting position, Lord Sallinger was suddenly there, kneeling beside her.
        ‘Are you hurt?’
        ‘Not seriously. My ankle is maybe a little…’ she began with dignity, trying to rearrange her mud-stained gown to better conceal herself, then sucked in her breath as his intentions became obvious. ‘No!’
        Nathaniel paid no attention to her modest protests but stripped off his gloves and pushed the hem of her gown roughly aside.
        Swiftly, his hand slid beneath the damp petticoats to find her ankle. The heat of his hand there left her breathless and shocked by her own reaction, pulses leaping in a traitorous body that had not forgotten his touch.
        What on earth was the matter with her? She knew as many as two dozen handsome, charming men in London, and not one of them had ever had this effect on her.
        Now his fingers played along the delicate bones of her ankle, gently manipulating her foot, leaving her uncertain where to look. Damn the man for his impudence! If only she could stop the blood gathering in her cheeks and recover a little composure.
        His dark gaze moved inexorably up the coarse, muddied gown, lingering on the tight swell of her bodice, before coming to rest on her face. He pressed her stockinged ankle with infinite care, taking in her flushed cheeks and over-bright eyes.
        ‘Tell me where it hurts,’ he insisted, frowning at her silence. His eyes narrowed on the twitching line of her mouth. ‘Here? There?’
        ‘No,’ she muttered, rebellious. ‘There’s a man with a cart up on the drive. If you could just summon him - ’
        The next thing she knew, he had stooped and lifted her off the muddy ground without further preamble. ‘Place your arms about my neck,’ he instructed her curtly.
        Eleanor’s face grew hot and she struggled in his arms. Her plain bonnet fell off, abandoned to its fate in the mud as he began to stride purposefully forward.
        ‘My lord, put me down. This is not seemly conduct.’
        Sallinger’s face was like stone; it was as though he had not heard a word.
        ‘My lord!’ Something like panic stirred inside her, and for a moment she forgot her decision not to drop her guard with him. ‘Someone will see us!’
        He looked down into her face then, the dark eyes veiled by his long lashes, and for a moment she was reminded of the old Nathaniel. His voice was deceptively soft.
        ‘Does that worry you?’
        ‘You know it does,’ she hissed, then caught the glint of what looked suspiciously like amusement in his eyes, and stiffened.
        If Nathaniel wanted to bait her, to punish her in some way for what had happened between them five years ago, she could not stop him. The man knew her weaknesses, knew them too well by far. Her best defence lay in acting the role she knew best,