Maid for Scandal by Anthea Lawson

Author:Anthea Lawson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-09-29T04:00:00+00:00

Anna leaned against the fence near the stables, idly weaving grass-stems between her fingers. She had nearly forgotten it was her half-day, until Mrs. Foutch had shooed her out of the parlor while she was dusting. Now she had the entire afternoon free. Originally, she had thought to walk the few miles to the Caswell’s and secretly meet with Belinda, to gossip and giggle over Giles and her own daring disguise. Yet, somehow, she didn’t have the heart for it.

Instead, her feet had taken her out the kitchen door and through the gate. Past the dairy and the brick wall where Jonathan had shown her what a true kiss was. She had fetched up at the stables, an odd restlessness running through her.

If she were Anna Harcourt, instead of Anna the maid, she would direct one of the grooms to saddle a mount for her. She’d head for the open fields and let the wind against her face cool her impatience. Ah, she missed her gray mare, Isolde.

But there was Windsor—she could not mistake that impressively large black shape—being led from the stables. She leaned forward… but no, the man with him was not Jonathan. They entered the ring, where the groom began to put Windsor through his paces. The horse had a wonderfully fluid gait. No wonder Giles had purchased him.

She wandered closer, the scent of sweet clover in the fields mixing with hay and earthy manure. When she reached the fence surrounding the ring, she realized someone else was standing in the shadows, watching the horse.

Jonathan.

Her stomach tickled, as though she had swallowed a bee, and she hesitated.

“Miss Anna.” He glanced over at her, as though he’d been aware of her presence all along. “Join me?”

“Good afternoon, Jonathan,” she said, coming to stand beside him. “Are you making sure Windsor is behaving?”

He smiled, as though her use of his given name pleased him. “He is, now that the stable-boys know how clever he can be at slipping out of his stall.”

“Why aren’t you working with Windsor? Aren’t you in charge of him?”

“Not any longer.” He sounded displeased.

Curiosity pricked her—but it wasn’t her place to ask what had happened. He turned back to watch the horse, and she studied him covertly. His jaw was set, his lips firm, but she knew how soft and coaxing they could be…

Drat. Why was she thinking of such things, when she loved Giles? And he loved her in return—of course he did. Why, just look at how intimate he had been with her this morning.

Then why had it not felt quite like love?

Letting out a sigh, she rested her folded arms on the top rail. This adventure of hers was becoming rather too complicated.

“Have you ever done something you regretted?” she asked.

Jonathan looked at her, and she caught her breath at the intensity of his gaze. “Why do you ask?” he said. “Are you sorry about our kiss yesterday?”

“No! Not at all.” She dropped her eyes to the buttons of his coat. How thoughtless of her.

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