Winter's Knight by Hatch Donna

Author:Hatch, Donna [Hatch, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: regency romance, sweet romance, clean romance
Publisher: Donna Hatch
Published: 2016-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

After Clarissa bathed, a maid fastened, tied, and pinned her into a borrowed gown. Despite being at least two years out of date, her gold- and ivory-trimmed lace gown made her feel elegant and lovely. With her hair tamed into a cascade of curls down the back of her head, Clarissa strode, head high and smiling, to the drawing room to gather with the others. Instead of being home for Christmas, she’d found herself among those who viewed her as the child of the enemy.

But she’d finally realized her dream of entering Wyckburg Castle. And what an expected delight she’d found in Lord Wyckburg. He couldn’t be a murderer; his words and sorrow had been genuine. Something terrible had happened to this man—to his family—and she was determined to discover the truth. And if it turned out that this curse was indeed real, as she was beginning to believe, then she’d discover a way to lift it. There had to be a way.

In the drawing room, Aunt Tilly, dressed in a gown as out of date as the one Clarissa wore, sat sipping a sherry. Henry stalked around the room like a caged animal. Lord Wyckburg stood quietly, so utterly still he might have been a statue. When his gaze flicked to Clarissa, his eyes widened, and he looked her up and down.

“Lovely,” he said in a hoarse voice. Haunting vulnerability entered those pale eyes.

Clarissa paused. Was she wearing his late wife’s gown? Her breath left her. Lord Wyckburg was no murderer. He was a sad, considerate man who’d shut himself away from the world out of grief, not because he hid generations of crime.

He recovered quickly, but his smile was strained. “May I offer you a sherry?”

“No, thank you.”

The woman who’d brought Clarissa her breakfast tray announced dinner. As Clarissa placed her hand on Lord Wyckburg’s offered arm, he pressed his mouth together in a thin line. He led her to a dining room and seated her at his right. Henry silently escorted Aunt Tilly to Clarissa’s side then took a seat opposite them.

Very gently she asked Lord Wyckburg, “Am I wearing your late wife’s gown?”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry. The maid who was helping me—”

“I told her to find something she thought might fit.”

“Oh.” Humbled by his gesture, she lowered her gaze. “It was very kind of you to see to my comfort. Thank you.”

“You do look lovely.”

“Despite my hair?” she said, hoping to tease him out of his somber mood.

Those beautiful eyes swept over her, resting on her hair. “It makes me think of sunset on the water.”

Clarissa wanted to throw her arms around him. After year of torment about being a redhead, his romantic description made her glow.

As they dined, Henry, couldn’t seem to decide if he should ignore her or watch her every movement. His behavior hadn’t changed, despite having spent all afternoon with her. Would she ever prove to him she was not his sister’s murderer?

Clarissa smiled at her host. “A delicious meal, my lord.”

His mouth twitched.

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