Hunter of My Heart by Janet Kendall

Author:Janet Kendall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The words seemed to stick in her throat. Sabrina had spent a day with Pamela and hadn’t found the courage to ask her one question about Hunter. Seeking information about Hunter under the guise of friendship stirred her guilt, especially since Pamela showed kindness. Enveloped in a deep leather chair, Sabrina sipped her cinnamon-laced tea and savored the spice that the Scots added to their brew. Pondering her strategy, she gazed around the library and summoned her nerve.

Across the desk from her, the countess resembled a military general in silk skirts as she planned Gavin’s affair, and Sabrina felt like a press-gang recruit fresh from the London docks. Pamela’s quill scratched as she continued to scribe her attack. Lists, like strategic maps, littered the mahogany desk. The papers contained duties for each head servant. Wanting the guests to find their suites easier, she’d even named each bedchamber according to the floral painting that hung near each door.

“You seem a bit distracted. Were you envisioning a different decor for this room?” Pamela turned over a guest list. “Or were you wondering what his Grosvenor Square house looks like?”

Sabrina choked on her tea and set down her cup. “I was thinking about his heritage. He’s said little about the Sinclairs, but I’d like to understand him better. Will you tell me?”

Rising, Pamela’s silk skirts rustled and stirred her lavender scent. She walked to a mullioned window. The blue jacquard drapes framed her form, a perfect vision of what and who an earl’s wife should be. Sabrina tore her gaze away and stared at the dusky gardens. Outside, workers were still building canopies on the lawn. She wasn’t Pamela and never could be.

Turning, Pamela glanced at her with knitted brows. “I’m not certain if I should tell you, but he might remain mum.”

Sabrina’s heart plunged to her toes. To urge Pamela to speak, she quickly revealed all she knew about him.

“Making Hunt happy is obviously important to you. You should know about his family. Except for his mother, he’s had little joy.”

Compassion tugged her heart. “What else made him so unhappy?”

“I’ll get to that. Our mothers were best friends. Priscilla was a lovely lady, intelligent and charming. Since she disliked London, we came here to visit. Hunt acted like a big brother.” Her face glowed as if she treasured the memories.

Pamela’s words reminded Sabrina of Geoffrey, and she smiled in return. “Sometimes, close friends can be like family.”

She nodded. “Priscilla either worked in her gardens or painted. Her art hangs in the hallway leading to the guests’ bedchambers. That’s where I got the idea for assigning each room by the flower’s name.”

“That’s a lovely tribute to her. What else?”

“Randall’s affairs hurt her terribly at first, but gradually she found peace, and was a wonderful mother. When Priscilla died, something inside Hunt died. He remains silent about her death.” Sadness filled her eyes and she lowered her gaze.

Something urged Sabrina to delve deeper. “After his mother’s passing, he must have felt very lonely. Is he afraid someone will profoundly affect him again?”

Pamela smiled warmly.

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