Rake Ruiner by Summer Hanford

Author:Summer Hanford
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2018-08-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Charlotte crossed the dark paneled library and placed Taming of the Shrew back on the shelf. She’d spent the whole of the morning pretending to read it, and contemplating Lord Edward’s behavior of the evening before. Trailing her fingers over the row of spines, she considered her next choice of book. More Shakespeare? Or philosophy, perhaps? Something to awaken her mind, so she could better comprehend Lord Edward.

What had he meant by dancing with her? He, who hadn’t set foot on a dance floor since his wife died. It simply could not have been an effort to proposition her. Lord Edward didn’t seem the sort of man for a casual liaison. There was nothing easy in his nature.

His was a heart that loved, and strongly. She could tell that from his obvious pain whenever something must remind him of his late wife. A pain that was still sharp after ten years. Ten years of devotion to a dead woman, when Charlotte’s husband couldn’t remain devoted for two years, while she was very much alive.

A soft tap sounded at the library door.

“Come,” Charlotte called. She turned and watched one side of the arched, double doors leading into the room crack open.

The widening gap revealed Cuthbert. “Lord Edward is here to speak with you, missus.”

“By all means, send him in.”

“Not to the parlor?” Cuthbert asked, expressionless. “Shall I send for Missus Lamont?”

Charlotte raised her eyebrows. That was Cuthbert’s way of saying he felt she required a chaperone, but she couldn’t imagine what prompted the notion. “Vivian is in the garden recovering from her indulgences of yesterday evening. You know it’s not wise to disturb the process. I’ll be perfectly well with Lord Edward.”

“Yes, missus.” Cuthbert bowed and pulled the door closed.

Charlotte frowned, the expression aimed at a heavy, dark-green upholstered sofa. What could Lord Edward want of her, and why was Cuthbert, a fair judge of men if ever there was one, worried? Had the lord of the keep come to expel her for her wicked waltzing the evening before, even though he’d partnered her? That seemed the type of contradictory, highhanded idiocy in which he would engage.

Hard footfalls rang down the marbled corridor without. The thick double doors were thrown wide. Lord Edward, divested of overcoat, gloves and hat, strode into the library. Did he enter every room as if the space was his, she wondered, or only ones he truly owned?

His eyes found her at once. His stride didn’t slow as he crossed the room, though the inlaid wood floors and thick carpets muted his tread. Before she could issue a greeting, he stood before her.

Cuthbert’s concern was readily apparent. Lord Edward’s form seemed almost to vibrate with tension. In his gray eyes a tinge of madness lurked. His gray-touched auburn locks, normally precise, were in disarray. His whole mien was that of a man approaching some catastrophic event.

“Lord Edward, are you well?” Charlotte asked, concern for him edging out worry over why he’d come.

His lids lowered to hood his eyes, which dropped to her lips.

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