The Mad Lord's Daughter by Jane Goodger

Author:Jane Goodger [Goodger, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781420111521
Google: muKaFXHe2DoC
Amazon: 1420111523
Goodreads: 13039217
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 2012-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

It was almost as if that kiss had never happened, as if she’d dreamt it all. For the next day, when the couples met up to look at the puppies, John was his old self. Jolly. Friendly. And completely at ease.

Melissa, however, felt as if she were teetering on the edge of hysteria. Had it been a dream? Had the delicious sensation of his hand against her breast been her imagination? Every time she looked at John, she saw nothing. No pain, no longing. No interest. He stayed mostly by Lady Juliana’s side as they strolled along a country lane toward the Gosslings’ house. It was a pleasant walk, taking them through a small woods, the path cushioned by the leaves that had fallen last October. Following yesterday’s wet weather, the air was heavy and fecund, and while the sun had yet to break through the clouds, it was quite warm for late March.

They crossed a stone bridge that spanned a sparkling river, and Melissa found herself smiling at the sound of the water tumbling over the rocks. The others didn’t seem to notice, but she was enchanted by it and stopped to look over the edge.

“Fine trout in that river,” Charles said, peering over the edge as if he might see a trout. “Do you fish?”

“I never have, but it seems as if it would be fun,” Melissa said, thinking back on the letter John had written to her all those years ago, those boyish words she’d held so dear.

“Perhaps later today. The fish bite right well after a rain and when it’s overcast like this.” He called up to John. “Have you been fishing yet this year, John? I thought we could all have a go at it this afternoon.”

Lady Juliana smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

“She’ll outfish you all,” Avonleigh warned.

“That’s the point,” his sister said pertly.

As they got to the other side of the bridge, Melissa let out a gasp of delight, and John turned sharply to her.

“What a lovely cottage,” she said, completely enchanted. “It’s like something out of a fairy tale.”

John frowned as if annoyed by her enthusiasm. “That’s the Gosslings’,” he said.

As they approached the cottage, a man stepped out from behind the house and called a greeting. “Here to see the pups, are you, my lord?” he asked.

John introduced the man, known to be one of the top breeders in all of Britain, to his friends. “Miss Atwell may have an adverse reaction to canines, so we’ll have to keep an eye on her,” he said. “Charles, I’ll put you in charge of monitoring Miss Atwell’s nose.”

“I’m certain I’m not going to,” Melissa said, feeling her cheeks redden.

As they approached the garden, the air was filled with the sounds of baying as the dogs, enclosed in a large kennel, greeted them. Mr. Gossling shouted at the dogs, and they immediately became silent.

“Mama’s back in here,” Gossling said, jerking his head to a small building. He was dressed like a gentleman farmer, and everything but his boots looked expensive and clean.

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