Lady Guinevere And The Rogue With A Brogue (Scottish Scoundrels: Ensnared Hearts Book 1) by Johnstone Julie

Lady Guinevere And The Rogue With A Brogue (Scottish Scoundrels: Ensnared Hearts Book 1) by Johnstone Julie

Author:Johnstone, Julie [Johnstone, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance, Fiction
Publisher: Darbyshire Publishing LLC
Published: 2020-08-17T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Thirteen

Asher was well past the proper calling hour when he knocked on the door to Guinevere’s home, but he had sent a message to Guinevere’s father this morning inquiring if the man would be here this evening, and Asher had received confirmation that he would be. But the odd look the footman gave him, and then the even stranger one the butler tried and failed to cover, seemed to indicate that Lord Fairfax had not passed the news on to his staff.

Once Asher explained who he was and that he was there to see Lord Fairfax and Lady Guinevere, the butler’s jaw actually dropped. Suspicion rose in Asher, and when the butler requested he wait in the entrance hall while he announced him, Asher declined. The butler merely pressed his lips together and turned on his heel.

As Asher walked through the corridors of the home where Guinevere had grown up, her words from the woods replayed in his head again.

You think because I am a game to you, that no one can want me! I suppose only you think I’m not desirable enough to offer for.

Confusion flared as before. And suspicion. And hope. Hope that was dangerous. Clearly by want she meant something more than desire, something like wanting her as a wife. He wanted to rub at the annoying ache in his chest, but he didn’t. Of course, he did not think that! The notion that no one would want to have her as a wife, to protect her, to cherish her, to possess her, was preposterous.

His mind kept circling back to her words. If she believed he’d only been toying with her—truly believed it—maybe even been led to believe it by Kilgore, Asher could see how she would have been hurt. How she would have wanted to strike back at him with, say, a grand performance in a skit she knew he would see.

He should have considered it yesterday during the skit, but again, he did not react reasonably when it came to Guinevere. The desire to protect himself was at war with the need to hang on to the hope, especially now that they were irrevocably bound for life. The kiss had ensured that, or rather, being discovered in the woods had.

His blood pumped hard through his veins. This night would set the course of their life together. Would it be a marriage of hope or distrust? He felt like a bumbling lad of ten summers rather than a grown man.

“Your Grace,” the butler said, waving a hand at the closed parlor door, “Lady Guinevere is just in here with—” the man paled considerably “—the others.”

Asher frowned at the man’s increasingly strange behavior but said, “Excellent. Then should ye not announce me?”

The butler looked distinctly uncomfortable but inclined his head in agreement. He knocked on the door, and when a call to enter was given, the man opened the door and announced Asher.

He hadn’t expected a warm greeting, given the circumstances he and Guinevere had been discovered in, but nor had he expected the words Guinevere’s mother bellowed.



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