Lord Dare by Rebecca Hagan Lee

Author:Rebecca Hagan Lee [Lee, Rebecca Hagan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781943505821
Publisher: Teresa Medeiros

Chapter 20

“If you light a lamp for someone else,

it will also brighten your path.”

—Buddha, 6th-4th century, BCE

* * *

The hospital was bustling with activity when Phoebe arrived hours earlier than usual the following morning. Heal and Son, the furniture dealer she had purchased beds and feather mattresses from the day before, made early morning deliveries and had promised to make the hospital their first stop. Phoebe had asked Aunt Augusta’s lady’s maid to wake her when Cook began the morning baking. Phoebe was up and dressed and ready to leave by the time Cook had the refreshments packed in the hampers and Randolph got them loaded into the coach.

The sun was just breaking the horizon and the sky still tinted in deep purple and pink. A heavy fog muffled the sound of the milk wagons and pie vendors finishing their rounds as they made the short trip through the park and around the church to the hospital’s service entrance, where two wagons were waiting with deliveries to be unloaded.

Expecting Trustee Lambert to meet her as he always did, Phoebe glanced up as a tall figure approached her coach. The dim lamplight and the thick fog shrouded his features, but she recognized him long before he spoke.

“What the devil do ye think you’re doing, woman?”

Alasdair reached the door of the coach before Randolph could and snatched it open, nearly pulling Phoebe, who was holding onto it, out of the coach.

“What I’m doing has nothing to do with the devil,” she retorted. “Or with you.”

“No?” As Randolph moved to the back of the vehicle to unload the hampers, Alasdair reached up and lifted her out of the coach.

Caught against his broad chest, Phoebe put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. But being held close against his chest, suspended inches above the pavement did nothing to steady her. Her breath quickened, her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her ribcage, and the roaring in her ears drowned out everything except the sound of his breathing and the deep burr that rumbled from his chest when he spoke. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips in anticipation of his kiss.

But Alasdair didn’t kiss her.

He surprised her by abruptly lowering her to the ground and setting her on her feet.

Phoebe opened her eyes and glared up at him.

Alasdair glared back. “I’ll not be rewarding ye for going back on your word.”

“Rewarding me? With what? Your presence?”

“Aye,” he said. “And my kisses.”

“I don’t want your kisses.”

“No?” He arched an eyebrow in obvious disbelief.

“No.”

“I know better,” he warned her. “Your lips say one thing, but your body says another.”

Realizing she was still standing within the circle of his arms, Phoebe took a quick step back and collided with the side of the coach.

Alasdair reached out to steady her once again.

The hands on her hips were large and warm and reassuring. Too reassuring for her peace of mind. Phoebe liked the way his hands felt bracketing her hips. Liked the heat that penetrated the fabric of her pelisse and her muslin skirts, warming her, protecting her from harm, marking her as his.

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