Captain Amberton's Inherited Bride (Whitby Weddings 2)

‘It’s a full moon, I believe.’ He gave an exaggerated yawn. ‘That should be enough to see by.’

Violet tightened her knuckles over the edge of the windowsill. The storm had passed, but the moon was bright enough for her to see the good four feet of snow heaped up on the terrace outside, all but obscuring her view of the garden. She couldn’t have been imprisoned any more effectively if she’d still been locked in the tower.

‘I hope you packed some sturdier boots than the ones you were wearing this morning.’ His voice was a languid drawl. ‘If you still want to leave, that is?’

‘More than ever!’ She swung around furiously. ‘Just as soon as it’s light.’

‘As you wish. In which case...’ he reached down and scooped the empty decanter up off the floor ‘...why don’t we get to know each other in the meantime? There’s a bottle of whisky on the sideboard. Care to join me?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Ah...’ He heaved his foot off the stool with a sigh. ‘I forgot that you disapprove.’

‘I do.’ She put out a hand to stall him. ‘But since it’s impossible for me to disapprove of you any more, I’ll fetch you a drink.’

‘Taking pity on an injured man?’

She didn’t answer as she stalked across to the sideboard and poured some dark amber liquid into a fresh glass, holding it out at arm’s length so that he had to lean forward to reach it.

‘Thank you, Miss Harper.’ His fingers brushed lightly against hers for a second before she snatched them away. ‘I suppose it’s best that you keep a clear head. You’ve a long walk ahead of you in the morning.’

She narrowed her eyes resentfully. ‘Don’t think that I won’t.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of naysaying you, but why don’t you sit down for a while first? I won’t bite, no matter what Mrs Gargrave says. I feel like I’m being interrogated with you standing there.’

‘I prefer to stand.’

He let out a long sigh. ‘Forgive my manners, Miss Harper, but would you please be so kind as to sit down?’

She hesitated for another moment and then perched warily on the edge of the velvet sofa opposite. It felt wonderfully soft and inviting, not to mention so cosy in front of the fire that she was almost tempted to relax her guard and curl her legs up beneath her. Almost. But he seemed to be watching her, eyes aglow with a look of such strange and sudden intensity that she felt her temperature start to rise.

‘That’s better.’ He dropped his gaze after a few seconds and nodded. ‘I’m glad we understand each other at last, Miss Harper.’

‘Do we?’

‘A little, I think. This morning I acted on the presumptio

n that there was a certain...aspect about me that you found objectionable. Immodest as it sounds, the thought of it being my character never occurred to me.’

‘I don’t understand. What did you think my objection was?’

‘Honestly? I assumed that some women might resent shackling themselves to a man with only one working leg.’

‘But that’s horrible!’ She shot to her feet again in outrage. ‘I would never think such a thing!’

‘You called me a beast.’

‘I meant you, not your leg!’

There was a momentary silence before he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

‘What is it?’ She stared at him in bewilderment. She’d never been so deliberately, unpardonably rude to anyone in her whole life and he was laughing? ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Just that you find my character so objectionable. I applaud your good judgement.’ He rubbed a hand across his face as if he were trying to control his own mirth. ‘Although it might reassure you to know that we’ve something in common. I wouldn’t want to marry me either.’

‘So you don’t mind what I said?’

‘Not at all. I perfectly agree with your estimation, though I’m curious to know what exactly you’ve heard about me? It must have been perfectly scandalous.’