My Lord Winter by Carola Dunn

Author:Carola Dunn [Dunn, Carola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance
ISBN: 9781410441645
Google: JuNKygAACAAJ
Amazon: 1410441644
Barnesnoble: 1410441644
Goodreads: 2789538
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1991-12-31T11:00:00+00:00

* * * *

Tooling his curricle across Henley bridge, Edmund recalled how Jane Brooke had looked forward to seeing the pleasant little town with the Thames meandering through the wooded valley. And later, when Windsor Castle came into view, he thought of her again. Not that he needed reminding.

He had fought to put the impossible, impertinent minx out of his mind, without the least degree of success.

That final, stolen kiss haunted him. How sweetly tender her lips had been, her skin like rose-petals—he groaned, a flickering flame stirring in his loins at the very memory of holding her close. For a moment she had yielded, clinging to him, a moment of rapture before she pulled away, sparks of righteous indignation flashing in her eyes.

She had threatened to swoon or scream or slap his face. Not for an instant had he doubted that the third would be her choice, but instead she had slain him with wit. In truth, he had behaved no better than young Reid.

Worse, for he was no ingenuous youth. He must see her to apologize.

That was the only conceivable reason for wanting to meet her. She had cut up his peace, insinuated herself within the walls that held the world at bay. She had forced him to see those walls as a defence, not the symbol of superiority he had thought them. Alfred had been inside the walls when Edmund built them; Fitz, absent during the building, had breached them by failing to notice them; but in twenty years Jane was the only other person to touch the man within. Miss Jane Brooke had observed the walls, and blithely ignored them.

He dared not let her come close again, yet he owed it to his honour to apologize. Until that was done he'd not be able to forget her. For just that purpose he was on his way to Town weeks earlier than he had planned, hoping that she had not already found a position and departed for some distant corner of the kingdom.

Not that he had much hope of finding her in the vast metropolis, he thought, driving through the Tyburn Turnpike then swinging right into Park Lane. His only chance was that the lawyer, Selwyn, might know where Miss Gracechurch was lodging. Fortunately, the fellow's first edition of Bacon made a reasonable excuse for calling on him.

Left into Upper Brook Street, and a moment later he pulled up in front of the classical symmetry of Wintringham House, facing south across Grosvenor Square. His groom jumped down and took the reins.

The front door opened as Edmund strode up the steps. His London butler, Mason, bowed and reported,

“Mr. Alfred arrived with your lordship's luggage half an hour since, my lord."

"Very good.” Edmund brightened, recalling that Alfred had intended to ask Miss Gracechurch's abigail for her direction. As he handed over his hat and gloves and permitted the waiting footman to relieve him of his driving coat, another possible way to track down Miss Brooke dawned on him: Lavinia Chatterton.

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