Read Online Absolute Surrender by Jenn LeBlanc - Free Book Online Page A

personal, so very thoughtful, not condemning, not judging, but concerned. And given with caution.
    She should take it.

    She could feel her aunt’s gaze on the handkerchief. The heavy weight of tension doubled.
    Take the handkerchief. Take it. Take the cloth from his hand, she thought.
    Her hand twitched as she willed herself to move, and she nodded when she did. “Thank you, I seem to have something…” She waved her hand and let herself trail off for the benefit of Lady Mathorpe. As well as for the duke. She hid behind the cloth momentarily, breathing. Feeling his warmth invade her, his personal scent—leather and polish, masculine and strong. She breathed deeper, attempting to catch more of him in her senses. There was something else below those scents, but she could not manage past her aunt’s cloying odor. It seemed to cling and hang from everything inside the carriage. Like the Spanish moss draped across the trees in paintings she ’ d seen of the American South.
    She dabbed at her eyes then held the warm, scented cloth just below her nose and breathed again. There it was. Below the leather—or perhaps buffering it—strength, fresh cotton, and man. Time slowed, it stood, it waited.
    Time would wait for Hugh no longer—
    STOP .
    She breathed again, then looked to the window, as she did not trust herself to look at him. Not him , the duke him. Was he now him? Another tear fell.
    Get yourself together. Her hands shook.
    The carriage made its way along the street to the park then pulled into an open spot on the walk. The carriage lurched from the jerk of the reins. She heard the boots hit the ground. One set, two, a third, then Hugh’s.
    They were last—they were cautious. His boots were whispering his discomfort to her. Not commanding, not demanding, not jumping from the carriage to purpose. His boots were silently stepping down from his mount, quietly shuffling behind the carriage as he tied his horse to the bar at the back.
    Amelia ’ s eyes dried. She tested her smile and pushed Hugh to the back of her mind for the moment. But only for a moment, she promised, as though he could hear her. Only a moment. She turned to Charles to return the handkerchief, but he raised his hand.
    “It would honor me if you would keep it.” The deep rumble of his voice soothed as it spoke of his want for intimacy. With her.
    Amelia froze when she heard her aunt huff in the seat next to her. She saw Charles’s indifference to the woman’s opinion and smiled. “The honor is mine, Your Grace.” It was a revelation presented in a sentence. She ’ d always been nervous that he ’ d been chosen for her because he could be controlled by her family—so this was a mollification of sorts.
    The door opened quickly, pulling the air from the carriage with it, and she startled. Charles stepped down, then handed her out to the green of the park, the laughter of children, the singing of birds and rushing of water. She inhaled the gardens and sighed heavily, her very being relaxing incrementally.
    She felt Jacks place her hand on his arm, keeping his hand, his warm, warm hand, upon hers as they strolled away from the carriage. She glanced around, expecting to see Hugh, but he was nowhere to be seen.
    Another trick of my addled brain. Was it because she ’ d wanted him here with her so desperately that her brain had attempted to conjure him for her? She inhaled again, trying her level best to school her features, to control her thoughts, and to prevent them from running away with her. Hugh was not here. Charles was here. Charles, her future husband, her… future.
    Perhaps this could be a good place for a beginning , she thought. It ’ s not too crowded— crowds made her nervousness infinitely worse— if only I can maintain a certain presence .

    Charles turned back to the carriage as his outrider stepped up and helped Lady Mathorpe down the steps. He was starting to believe that she was of her sister’s ilk, holding the belief that