Loving A Noble Gentleman by Abigail Agar & Bridget Barton

Author:Abigail Agar & Bridget Barton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2017-11-06T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Mary stirred under the sheets, discomfort floating through her system as something did not feel right. She was not sure where the odd sensation had come from, so she had to really prepare herself before she opened her eyes. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, and she could feel her breaths coming out sharp and ragged as a weird snake of panic curled itself in her stomach ...

Where am I?

The first thought that burst into Mary’s brain was that the room was not recognisable. The odd pastel pinks and floral patterns that surrounded her were not anything that she would have chosen. This was not her bedroom at all.

Right, of course. I am in Charlotte’s home.

The memory of leaving her own home in a rushed, emotional state because she wanted to get away from Edmund flooded her mind. At the time, she felt utterly determined that she was doing the right thing, but as time slipped past her, she was not so sure. Maybe that was why after almost two weeks she still did not recognise where she was when she first woke up.

There was something about Charlotte’s home that felt very uncomfortable. Mary had noticed it on her first few visits, but as she was only there for a short period, it did not flash up as a real problem to her. Now it was all that she could think about. Charlotte’s husband, Lord Jones, did not seem keen on having Mary there, that was apparent right away, but it seemed to be more than that. There was a tension in their marriage that seemed very unnatural to Mary.

With a deep sigh, Mary swung her legs to the ground and leaned her head in her hands. Using her palms to rub the sleep out of her eyes, she felt distressed and desperately unhappy. This was not the plan at all. She was supposed to be happy right now; things were supposed to be working out. The mess with the inheritance should have been sorted, and she should be working slowly towards her wedding day. She should not be here, worrying about where her future lay.

On the dressing table in the spare bedroom that Mary was sleeping in sat a stack of letters that Walter had sent her. He desperately wanted to meet with her; there was a lot that needed to be sorted, but she could not face it right now. She needed to be in the right frame of mind before she talked to him, and she also needed to know what she wanted to do for sure.

I cannot sit here all day, Mary tried to encourage herself to move. Much as I do not have anything to do today, I cannot sit in bed.

As if to confirm that point, a light knocking sound on the door made Mary snap her eyes up towards it. She leapt up and straightened her nightdress before calling out, “Who is it?”

She thought it would be her sister, but instead

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