Marrying His Cinderella Countess by Louise Allen

Author:Louise Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Historical
Published: 2017-08-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

‘Cold? I can stop and find the lap rug.’ Blake craned round to look over his shoulder, reining in as he did so.

He must have noticed that tiny shiver.

Ellie looked about her. They were in the lee of a large clump of shrubbery, screened from the open part of the park. It was ridiculous to feel emboldened by there being no one else within sight, because no one would overhear them unless they shouted. Even so...

‘I am not cold.’

Blake stayed where he was, half turned on the seat, then he thrust the whip into its holder and wrapped the reins around it.

‘Stand.’

The well-trained horses flicked their ears at the sound of his voice, but stayed still as he stripped off his gloves—almost, it seemed to her, a signal that he would wait, would listen to what she had to say.

‘I am afraid.’

‘Afraid?’

He looked appalled—as well he might. What had come over her, blurting it out like that?

‘Ellie, I should have thought. You do not have a mother or married sister to advise you, to make you feel comfortable about what will happen. Do not worry, please.’ He lifted a hand and laid it gently against her cheek. ‘I won’t... We will take it very slowly. Nothing will happen—not until you want it to.’

‘No, no, that isn’t it, Blake!’

Oh, Lord, now she must be crimson with embarrassment. What on earth had made her think that this rush of honesty would be a good thing?

‘I have absolutely no fears about that,’ she lied.

She couldn’t bring herself to say that she was aching for him, and neither could she find the words to tell him what had happened—the fear, the horror of that night when she had broken her leg and her stepfather had died.

‘I am afraid that I won’t...please you. That night, in front of the fire, you said that I’d bruised your arm because I was so bony.’

‘I am an idiot,’ Blake said. ‘I was worried about you—you were thin. Worried that you would make yourself ill. I meant to joke, perhaps to encourage you to eat more. I would not have hurt you for the world, Eleanor.’

Honesty, she reminded herself. I should tell him.

Tell him how she had made herself thin because she had started to become afraid of her stepfather. It had begun when she’d started to develop a figure, so she had tried to make those treacherous curves go away.

She looked at the horses, the trees, her gloved hands. Anywhere but into those concerned grey eyes.

‘I was not well after my accident,’ she prevaricated. ‘I lost my appetite and it was hard to get into the habit of eating again.’

‘Poor darling,’ Blake said.

He ran his fingers down the curve of her cheek until his thumb met her mouth. He lingered there, rubbing gently across the swell of her lower lip, until she raised her eyes and met his gaze.

‘You are very feminine, Eleanor. Lush curves are not everything—or anything, come to that. So long as you are not frightened of me then it will all be well, you will see.

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