High Country Bride ; A Man Most Worthy by Jillian Hart

Author:Jillian Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-07-05T18:26:59+00:00

Chapter Two

Awake since the sky had begun to lighten, Alice let out a massive sigh of relief when she saw Mr. Tennent walking across the lawn toward the court.

Not until that moment did she realize how disappointed she would have been if he hadn’t shown up. She’d prayed hard last night that he wouldn’t be discouraged after only one lesson.

She fingered the head of her racket as she watched his long stride. His serious air made Victor and the other boys of her acquaintance seem just that—boys! Biting her lip, she glanced down at her calf-length plaid skirt and sailor top. How she wished she were one year older and wore ankle-length dresses like a lady. Did Mr. Tennent see her as just a schoolgirl? She cringed, remembering the silly game of hide-and-seek she’d been playing the day she’d burst in on him.

She smiled as he approached her. “Good morning.”

He nodded, his dark eyes meeting hers, their formality lessening as he gave her a slight smile. “Good morning, Miss Shepard.”

She tilted her head. “Ready to have another go?”

“If you’ve the patience and fortitude.”

Her smile widened in relief. She handed him the extra racket. “You did very well for your first time. Come, I’ll serve first.”

“Very well.” He shed his coat this time and laid it carefully on a wrought iron chair by the side of the court.

She began gently, giving him a chance to review what she’d taught him the day before. They played for about twenty minutes before taking a break.

“I brought some water for us,” she said, leading him to the yew hedge where she had stashed two stone flasks. “It should still be cold.”

“Thank you.” He took the one she handed him then waited until she had uncapped hers and brought it to her lips before following suit. “How did I do today? Any improvement?” he asked, lowering the flask.

“Oh, a vast amount. You’re a natural athlete.”

He made a sound of disbelief.

“You don’t believe me? It’s the truth. I can tell. You’re nothing like most of the boys on the court who try and act as if they knew something.” She studied his face, hoping she was convincing him not to give up, but the steady way he regarded her was hard to read.

Mr. Tennent wiped his brow with his handkerchief, pushing back his dark curls.

Hoping to draw out more about his fascinating past, she said, “Tell me more about your mother.”

He looked away from her, and she bit her lip, afraid she had offended him. Her governess had always said she was too direct.

But he answered with no sign of displeasure. “She had to take us into the mill with her when we were young, and put us to work as soon as we could wind a thread around a bobbin.”

“She must have been a brave woman to raise four boys all alone.” His tale had haunted her last night. It had sounded so unbearably romantic.

He pocketed his handkerchief. He was standing in his vest and shirtsleeves.

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