The Return of Her Long-Lost Husband by Joanna Johnson

Author:Joanna Johnson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-10-28T18:45:50+00:00

* * *

Nathaniel and Hester were flushed and laughing as they entered Grafton Lodge’s drive just behind the carriage, neck and neck, with barely a whisker to tell the winner.

Leaning back in the saddle, Nathaniel pulled his horse to a stop, looking across to see Hester’s eyes shining. ‘I believe the victory is mine.’

‘Absolutely not! Anyone could see I was miles ahead!’

‘I’d hesitate to call a lady a cheat, but...’

The faux outraged wrinkling of Hester’s nose probably wasn’t fit for a lady either, but it made Nathaniel’s grin widen. With some of her hair threatening to fall loose and her colour high she wasn’t quite her usual proper self, different but still just as alluring as he slid from his horse and held out a hand to help her do the same.

Standing together on the gravel, they waited for the carriage door to open, a hint of uncertainty that hadn’t been there before beginning to circle in Nathaniel’s gut.

I haven’t seen Father in above five years, and the last time I did he lied to my face. What will our first meeting be like now I know the truth?

Glancing down, he caught Hester biting her lip, the same unease he felt written clearly across her face, and a jolt of understanding crackled through him. How horrible it would be for her to see the man who had placed so little value on her life. He should have thought more quickly, Nathaniel admonished himself harshly, realising far too late that she was left with nowhere to hide—but then he watched as her head came up and her shoulders straightened, and the composure nobody but he knew she was forcing took his breath away.

He leaned down to mutter into her ear...a pink, pretty ear that reminded him of a delicate shell. ‘Hester. If you’d rather not—’

‘I would absolutely rather not.’ She kept her eyes unwaveringly on the carriage, standing quite still as the door handle turned. ‘But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I’ll need to see your father sooner or later, and I’d prefer to jump before I’m pushed.’

There was no time for him to reply. The carriage door swung open and a passenger stepped out: Mr Honeywell, looking every bit as austere and unsmiling as Nathaniel remembered. He leaned on a cane now, a difference from five years ago, but the expression was the same and so was the measured voice that addressed Nathaniel by name.

‘Nathaniel.’

Mr Honeywell didn’t come any closer, or show any sign of surprise to see his long-lost heir standing large as life in front of him. Instead he inspected his son coolly, starting at the top of his hat and working downwards, lingering briefly on the patch and weather-beaten face before giving one curt, apparently satisfied nod at what he found.

‘I see your mother spoke true. She told me you’d returned when I arrived home this morning.’

Nathaniel nodded back, the vague discomfort in his belly growing worse. A servant approached to take his horse’s reins and he handed them over, glad for a chance to look away as he ordered his thoughts.

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