As the Devil Dares by Anna Harrington

Author:Anna Harrington
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2018-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Dusk was falling by the time Mariah arrived home. She smiled weakly at the butler as he opened the door for her. She was cold and wet, covered with dirt, and thoroughly exhausted. At that moment, nothing in the world sounded better than sinking into a hot bath, then falling into bed.

“Shall I send Alice to your room, miss?” Bentley asked, taking her coat and hat.

“Please.” She smiled gratefully, then hesitated before asking, “Is my family home?”

“Miss Evelyn is upstairs, and Mr. Winslow is in his study.”

Her chest fell. She’d been hoping to have the house to herself so she could wallow in her misery in peace. And try to sort through the confusion that had gripped her since the moment Robert Carlisle walked into her life.

“Thank you. Tell Alice I’ll be up in a moment, and take this down to Cook, will you?” She held up the cloth-covered basket she’d carried in from the carriage. “Mrs. Smith sent a pie for Papa.” She lowered her voice with a conspiratorial smile. “And I put in a second pie for you and the servants, too.”

“You’re a kind one, miss.” He gave her an affectionate wink as he accepted the basket, then he snapped back into his role as a dignified butler and bowed his head formally. He retreated toward the rear stairs.

With a long sigh, she moved slowly down the hall toward Papa’s study. Soon, the footmen would light the lamp in the foyer and the sconces along the hallways, but for now, the house was still dark and quiet, and she was glad for it. A headache had threatened to engulf her since the moment she said her good-byes at Gatewell.

No. The headache had arrived well before that, since the moment Robert Carlisle destroyed a perfectly wonderful moment by calling her the kind of woman on whom a man could get burned.

“I’m not a flatiron, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, letting her anger push down any lingering hurt at the accusation. Because it had hurt. A great deal. And just when she was beginning to think that she could trust him, that he might finally understand her.

Apparently, he didn’t understand her at all.

The study door stood open, and Mariah stopped to lean against the doorframe and gaze in at her father.

Whenever she imagined Papa in his study, she pictured him like this, sitting right there behind his large desk, busy at work. A Chippendale piece made of mahogany with black leather inlay across the top, complete with carved lion’s paws for feet, the desk was Papa’s most treasured belonging next to his wedding ring and the place where he felt most at home in the world. How many hours had she played on the rug in front of the fire while he pored over the company’s books at that desk? How many plans and hopes for the future had he shared with her during those quiet afternoons? Her love for the company had come as naturally as loving her father, which wasn’t surprising because the two were inseparable.

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