The Pretender by Jaclyn Reding

Author:Jaclyn Reding [Reding, Jaclyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780739423769
Google: LmeGGn6P0DcC
Amazon: 0739423762
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2001-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Elizabeth stirred, opening bleary eyes onto a sluggish fire that lay smoldering in the hearth beside her. The room was splashed with shadows that rose and fell with the gentle flicker of the flames. Quiet surrounded her, and for the first few moments she felt quite as if she were floating.

She had no idea that she wasn’t in her own chamber at home in Drayton Hall. At any moment she expected Caro or another of her sisters to come bursting through the door with some frightful dilemma for her to solve, like which gown Catherine should wear to the Sanderson ball or what color riband looked best with Matilda’s hair. It wasn’t until the room around her began to come into focus, the bare stone walls glowing pink in the light of the fire, the earthenware claret bottle that served as a vase for a cluster of wildflowers, that she remembered where she was, not at all at Drayton Hall, but at a remote inn somewhere north of the Scottish border.

Good God. She had fallen asleep in the bath.

The long hours of riding had obviously taken their toll on her. She couldn’t remember how she’d even gotten to the room. She knew she had eaten but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what it had been.

She remembered Douglas saying he would return in an hour, and realized she had no idea of just how much time had passed since he’d gone. It could have been moments. It could have been more. Judging from the chill temperature of the water, it had been quite a while.

She glanced quickly at the door. Had he locked it before he’d gone? Or could he walk in at any moment and find her there, still in the tub? In fact he could be climbing the stairs at that moment, heading even now for the door. Surely he would knock before coming in, warn her of his return. Wouldn’t he?

The most likely answer to that question brought Elizabeth upright with a splash, had her dashing for the door to turn the key until she heard the click of the lock. Only then did she take another breath.

She turned and arched her neck sideways to ease the cramp that pinched there from having been slumped against the side of the tub. She watched the dance of the fire in the small stone hearth. She listened to the silence of the night. Her hair, which she’d washed with the floral soap Màiri had given her, hung in damp twisting strands down her shoulders and back. It dripped onto the floor beneath her. Standing before the hearth, she reached for the thick cloth she had been given to dry with, dried her arms and her hair, and wrapped the length of it around herself. The night air gave her gooseflesh despite the warmth of the fire. She was so tired, she could have sunk to the floor and stayed there till morning. All she wanted was to slip beneath the bedcovers, bury herself against the pillows, and sleep.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.