Lord Muck and Lady Alice by Isabella Hargreaves

Author:Isabella Hargreaves
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Australian historical romance, Victorian historical romance, family saga, historical romance, Rural romance, sweet romance
Publisher: Isabella Hargreaves
Published: 2018-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

JAMES’S BLOOD BOILED in his veins. His steps were stiff and jerky as he approached the door of the cab. He tried to control his emotions enough to greet his daughter and her governess. He couldn’t even use her name in his mind.

Oh, he knew who she was now. The whole world, except he and Nell, had known.

Lady Alice Lethbridge Arnley.

Not just a member of the aristocracy he despised. Oh no, she had to be the sister of the Earl of Arnley, who had thrown his family off their land in Hampshire so he could lease their farm to a family member.

Nell erupted out of the carriage and into his arms. James enfolded her slight form and pressed a kiss to her head. How he had missed her. He inhaled her fresh scent of girlish innocence. He didn’t dare think about Nell’s companion. The pain of his discovery still hurt like a thorny Bougainvillea tendril wrapped around his wounded heart.

When he straightened, he was eye to eye with the woman who had betrayed his trust.

He gave a brief nod then released Nell to collect their bags. “The housekeeper will show you to your room, Eleanor. Miss Lethbridge, I would like to speak with you—now.”

Within seconds, he held the study door open for Alice, and she passed through before him, her head erect, her lustrous black hair caught in a roll at the back of her neck. A hint of her rose scent brought a vivid memory of the last time he’d been enraptured by that fragrance. When he had held her in his arms and lusted for more of her body than was his right to have. When he had yearned to join his soul with hers.

He shook his head to erase that disturbing thought. If only he could dispel the pain of her betrayal as easily.

“Please be seated,” he said, pointing her to a leather sofa, while he strode behind his desk. His voice sounded crisp and bitter, despite his wish to control his emotions.

Her chin tilted up a notch. “I would rather not, if you are to stand.”

He inclined his head but kept his eyes on her face to read her. “As you wish, Lady Alice.”

She had the propriety to look startled, as she ought to when her duplicity had been found out. She dipped her head in polite, restrained acknowledgement of his words.

Incredulous at her coolness, he said, “Have you nothing to say in your defence?”

She raised one winged eyebrow and asked with a cultured inflection to her voice, “Of what am I accused?”

“Hah! You know very well, Lady Alice Arnley.”

“Indeed, I do not.”

“You deny that is your name and title?” he asked, sceptical.

“I do not. However, I don’t see how it has any bearing on my employment by you ... or on anything.” Her face had taken on a haughtiness he hadn’t seen before. Her eyebrow was cocked with a supercilious air, and her mouth was pursed with distaste.

His anger at her deception and betrayal burned hotter in his gut.

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