The Wedding Night by Linda Needham Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Linda Needham
loved.
Rushford had thought of everything.
As always, the man was watching her every move, had probably seen the teary redness in her eyes and would make the most of her weakness.
"Should you refuse me, Miss Faelyn, I will put these same resources at Brawlings's disposal." He folded the cloth over the ancient text, one corner and then the next, until it was gone from her sight. "We will surely lose precious months of research while he catches up—a year or two, perhaps. But I am a patient man, willing to search the world for what I want, if need be. The Willowmoon Knot will eventually be found, and its clues will lead me to the silver."
She couldn't take that chance.
She would have to make a pact with the devil. Yet not on the devil's terms.
Deception, half-truths, sleight of hand … the secrets of the Willowmoon still belonged to her, and the truth could be as blinding and deceptive as any lie. Let the man believe that she was as greedy as he, that they were after the same glittering prize. Mairey's heart was raw and her head ached.
"You've left me little choice, Rushford. I want the Willowmoon Knot as much as you do. A fortune in silver is difficult to deny. Very well—I'll join your project."
He raised a dark brow as though he were surprised that he'd won. "Done, then."
"Yes. Done." Mairey felt as though she'd been flogged and thrown out on a rock. "Now, sir, if you'll point me in the direction of the nearest lodging house, I'll return to Drakestone in the morning to see my library properly packed and sent back to Oxford, where I can conduct my research properly."
"No." The word was plain and clipped; but as powerful as a blow. "You work for me now, Miss Faelyn. Your library stays here."
"I can't afford to ride the train back and forth to Oxford every morning and evening." She couldn't leave her sisters and her aunt. And if she was to keep Rushford from learning too much, she needed to conduct her research safely distant from his prying.
"And I can't afford the time to have you on that train. You'll live here on my estate—"
"I'd rather sleep on a park bench! Good day, sir." Mairey got three steps toward the foyer before
Rushford got a fist-hold of her skirts.
"Be still, girl!" His momentum propelled him against her before he easily hauled her backward into his chest.
"I'll not live alone with you, sir!" He was wrapped around her like a winter coat buttoned up against a cold wind.
"I'm offering you a private lodge here at Drakestone ," he murmured against her ear.
"No."
"I assure you, Miss Faelyn, that if I had improper designs on you I would be forthright about it."
"What the devil does that mean?" The man was forthright enough with his shimmering heat and the fierce banding of his arms, a cocoon as ravishing as she remembered in her dreams.
"It means that you and I have contracted a business deal, which satisfies both of us in equal measure."
"As I measure it, Rushford, you got the bucket and I got the hole."
Rushford was silent and still for the space of a heartbeat, then Mairey heard a rumble and realized that he was laughing softly, the sound coursing through her like another pulse.
"Indeed," he said, freeing her from his grasp but blocking her retreat. " Drakestone is large and the lodge is separate, secured behind as many locks as you find comfortable. But you will work with me in the main part of the house. My hours are long and unreliable. The sooner we find this Knot and its silver the sooner we'll be quit of each other, and the happier we both will be. Agreed?"
She looked up over his shoulder. His library was enormous, with two full stories of books and polished mahogany, and a mezzanine ringing the room. And a quarter of the shelves on its lower floor were empty but for a few of her field note boxes lined up together.
She could build an impregnable fortress against him here.
"Whose desk is this?" Mairey slid her hand just under the edge of the desktop, following the undulations of
Rushford had thought of everything.
As always, the man was watching her every move, had probably seen the teary redness in her eyes and would make the most of her weakness.
"Should you refuse me, Miss Faelyn, I will put these same resources at Brawlings's disposal." He folded the cloth over the ancient text, one corner and then the next, until it was gone from her sight. "We will surely lose precious months of research while he catches up—a year or two, perhaps. But I am a patient man, willing to search the world for what I want, if need be. The Willowmoon Knot will eventually be found, and its clues will lead me to the silver."
She couldn't take that chance.
She would have to make a pact with the devil. Yet not on the devil's terms.
Deception, half-truths, sleight of hand … the secrets of the Willowmoon still belonged to her, and the truth could be as blinding and deceptive as any lie. Let the man believe that she was as greedy as he, that they were after the same glittering prize. Mairey's heart was raw and her head ached.
"You've left me little choice, Rushford. I want the Willowmoon Knot as much as you do. A fortune in silver is difficult to deny. Very well—I'll join your project."
He raised a dark brow as though he were surprised that he'd won. "Done, then."
"Yes. Done." Mairey felt as though she'd been flogged and thrown out on a rock. "Now, sir, if you'll point me in the direction of the nearest lodging house, I'll return to Drakestone in the morning to see my library properly packed and sent back to Oxford, where I can conduct my research properly."
"No." The word was plain and clipped; but as powerful as a blow. "You work for me now, Miss Faelyn. Your library stays here."
"I can't afford to ride the train back and forth to Oxford every morning and evening." She couldn't leave her sisters and her aunt. And if she was to keep Rushford from learning too much, she needed to conduct her research safely distant from his prying.
"And I can't afford the time to have you on that train. You'll live here on my estate—"
"I'd rather sleep on a park bench! Good day, sir." Mairey got three steps toward the foyer before
Rushford got a fist-hold of her skirts.
"Be still, girl!" His momentum propelled him against her before he easily hauled her backward into his chest.
"I'll not live alone with you, sir!" He was wrapped around her like a winter coat buttoned up against a cold wind.
"I'm offering you a private lodge here at Drakestone ," he murmured against her ear.
"No."
"I assure you, Miss Faelyn, that if I had improper designs on you I would be forthright about it."
"What the devil does that mean?" The man was forthright enough with his shimmering heat and the fierce banding of his arms, a cocoon as ravishing as she remembered in her dreams.
"It means that you and I have contracted a business deal, which satisfies both of us in equal measure."
"As I measure it, Rushford, you got the bucket and I got the hole."
Rushford was silent and still for the space of a heartbeat, then Mairey heard a rumble and realized that he was laughing softly, the sound coursing through her like another pulse.
"Indeed," he said, freeing her from his grasp but blocking her retreat. " Drakestone is large and the lodge is separate, secured behind as many locks as you find comfortable. But you will work with me in the main part of the house. My hours are long and unreliable. The sooner we find this Knot and its silver the sooner we'll be quit of each other, and the happier we both will be. Agreed?"
She looked up over his shoulder. His library was enormous, with two full stories of books and polished mahogany, and a mezzanine ringing the room. And a quarter of the shelves on its lower floor were empty but for a few of her field note boxes lined up together.
She could build an impregnable fortress against him here.
"Whose desk is this?" Mairey slid her hand just under the edge of the desktop, following the undulations of
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