The Suspect's Daughter: Regency Romance (Rogue Hearts Book 4) by Donna Hatch

Author:Donna Hatch [Hatch, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: love, Romance, Regency
Publisher: Mirror Lake Press
Published: 2015-12-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Grant guided the silent, pale woman home, checking to make sure she didn’t fall from the saddle in her exhaustion. Her inner strength surprised him. No gently bred maiden of his acquaintance could have accomplished what she’d done, nor even tried. His sisters, Margaret and Rachel, were no wilting lilies, and Margaret had spent much of her youth in the stables helping foal horses, but he couldn’t imagine her delivering a baby.

The efficiency with which Jocelyn dealt with the situation, including such a crushing blow, left him in awe. She rode next to him in silence. No hysterics, no wailing, just quiet, compassionate grief for one of her tenants who’d lost a child. She probably knew every tenant by name. They clearly loved and relied on her.

This remarkable lady was no simpering weakling whose interests centered on finding a rich husband. Here was a woman of substance. And heart. The lucky man who won her love would have no fear of lies, no fear of deceit, no fear of betrayal.

The sun set and the clouds darkened as he guided them back to the manor house. They reached the stables as the first raindrops fell. At the entrance to the stables, he lifted her down. Head bowed, she stood so close that the warmth of her body reached him.

“Are you…feeling well?” he asked softly. Which, obviously was a pathetic question, but the right words eluded him.

She took several deep breaths and let her head drop against his chest. Silent weeping shook her shoulders. He acted without thinking. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in closer. She wept, still noiselessly, while he held her. An unfamiliar contentment stole over him. He excelled at hunting down criminals and took savage delight ensuring thugs and thieves got their due; it helped satisfy his thirst for vengeance. He couldn’t strike back at the one who had nearly destroyed him, but he could strike out at others who deserved to face the consequences of their wrong doings. Even the thrill of the hunt made him feel alive. Another part of him, a small, mostly unacknowledged part, prided himself on the knowledge that he protected the innocent from evil.

But this offering of comfort was entirely new. And yet, it seemed familiar and necessary, as if he’d been missing a key gear to the mechanics of his life.

She nestled in against him, all warmth and softness and that sweet fragrance. He rested his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes. It wouldn’t last, but he’d be a fool not to enjoy the long-absent moment of a woman in his arms or the uniquely powerful position in which he’d found himself—not the power to destroy or subdue, or even protect, but to comfort.

Several rather satisfying moments he should not have enjoyed so much passed before she lifted her head. “Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive.”

She studied him. “You’re a complicated man.” Without explaining her cryptic comment, she stepped out of his arms, strode to the house, and disappeared inside.

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