That Determined Mister Latham by JoMarie DeGioia

Author:JoMarie DeGioia [DeGioia, JoMarie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lachesis Publishing Inc
Published: 2016-09-14T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Tory sat in solitude at the small, scarred table set near the darkened window, eating her chicken and vegetables with little enthusiasm. The fare was quite tasty, but she was far too preoccupied to appreciate it. She knew that Patrick was only taking an honorable stance in allowing her privacy this evening. She missed his company sorely.

When the maid had brought in the tray, obviously holding food enough for only one, she’d been disappointed. The maid had gone on about how handsome Tory’s intended was, how gallant to allow her such privacy, and Tory had little trouble catching her meaning. The little maid no doubt fancied Patrick for herself. He was indeed most handsome and gallant, and even with his rumpled traveling clothes and rain-dampened hair, she ached to be near him. Would he spend the night with the maid? No, she wouldn’t think that. Patrick was an honorable man. He would never shame her so.

She sighed and set her barely-touched plate aside and climbed into bed, grimacing slightly at the lumps in the thin mattress. She pulled the rough sheets closer and shut her eyes.

Sometime later, she awoke with a start at the loud noises coming from belowstairs. Apparently a brawl had broken out in the small dining room and the sounds of men’s voices, raised in anger and merriment, were punctuated by loud crashes. Tory sat up in the bed, the thin sheets held to her bosom. To her growing horror, the antagonists appeared to be carrying their dispute up the stairs and into the hallway just outside her door. The thin walls shook as one man’s body was thrown against it and she cried out. The adjoining door opened with a bang and Patrick stood there, his hands in fists at his side.

“What the devil’s going on in here?” he roared.

She stared at him for a moment. He wore only his breeches and his feet were bare, and she nearly swooned at the image he made filling the doorway. The anger soon left his face as he realized there was no one there in her room. He crossed to the door leading out to the hallway and pulled it open, nearly ripping it off of its hinges.

“Take your brawling belowstairs,” he ordered the men. “People are trying to sleep.”

The men peered around him in Tory’s direction. She shrank against the iron headboard, clutching the sheets even tighter.

“What you got in there, mate?” one of the men asked Patrick with a grin. “Surely, you ain’t tryin’ to sleep, with that pretty little dove awaitin’ you.”

“Bloody hell,” Patrick growled.

He shoved the drunkards away from Tory’s door, slammed it and turned to her. “Are you all right?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

Tory gave him a small nod. She looked again at the door, shaking slightly. “I was frightened,” she said softly. She stared up at Patrick. “Can you stay here with me?”

He blew out a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. If she hadn’t known him better she would have guessed that he was reluctant to stay with her.

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