The Duke's Son and the Cowgirl by Debra Erfert

Author:Debra Erfert [Erfert, Debra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stone Horse Press, LLC

Heavy, dark clouds had gathered during the burial of the fifth Marquess of Sheffield, threatening a downpour of rain. The cold winds felt thick and oppressive as they buffeted Laurel’s veil around. The black cloak Jane had lent her wasn’t warm enough; gooseflesh prickled her skin. Laurel stood with her arms folded, watching the crowd who paraded by the sixth Marquess of Sheffield and his weepy stepmother, giving them their regret again. The bows and curtsies abounded.

Someone touched Laurel’s shoulder, prompting her to turn. In an instant, her heart thudded. “George!”

“Laurel? May we talk?” he asked.

How she wished she could throw back her veil, then she could see him clearer. It might be her last chance to gaze into his breathtaking sky blue eyes, but Jane had asked her to wear the veil during the burial to show respect. She loved her sister-in-law, and would do what she’d asked. That was what family did. Laurel was sure George would end up doing the same. Over the past few days, she realized that the idea of forgetting George wouldn’t be possible, at least completely. Maybe after a bit of time had passed, the yearning to be near him would subside. She needed to protect her heart.

“I told you yesterday that I can’t see you again, George,” Laurel told him. His parents were working their way toward Christopher and hadn’t noticed their son standing near Laurel.

George took hold of her elbow and lowered his voice. “Is that what you wish? You don’t want my company any longer?”

Laurel sighed. “No, of course it isn’t what I wish, George,” she whispered. “We barely have had time together to know if . . .” A shiver coursed through her body.

“If we would suit?” George lowered his head.

Believing she had nothing to lose, she whispered, “If you could love someone like me. I’m nobody.”

“Walk with me, if just for this last time.” He nodded toward the marquess’s crypt. “We will not be alone. It will be perfectly proper.”

Laurel gazed at all the faces around her. It seemed no one was paying attention to them at the moment. Laurel’s family were surrounded by mourners. After she gave George a curt nod, he grasped her elbow and led her toward the stone tomb where the marquess was buried. When they had separated from the crowd, yet still in view, George dropped his hand away and turned to gaze down at her. She doubted he could actually see past the black veil, but she remembered what his face looked like even in the darkness. Thunder rumbled low in the distance. The scent of rain drifted in the air.

“You are not a nobody, Laurel Bellamy!” George’s stern voice brought heated tears to her throat. “You are a beautiful, sweet, and unpretentious young lady who sees me for myself and not an inherited title, a lady whom I care very much about. I want to apologize about what my mother said to you. While I don’t know the particulars,” George said in a quieter tone, “I can see what effect it had on you, and I’m sorry.

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