Read Online Face to Face (The Deverell Series Book 2) by Susan Ward - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Ward
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me go, if you wish not to repeat your past misdeeds.”
The leaves rippled in the trees behind him, as gentle was his gaze, holding her as he said, “Is that really what you want?”
“Yes.” Once the word was out, it sounded childish, which was a disappointment. There was not enough conviction in her voice to fill a thimble.
Varian held out his hand to her. “Why don’t you come see what I brought you?”
Merry stood a frozen statue, her gaze a careful lock on the trees behind him. “Do you know how insufferable you are?” she asked.
“You can tell me while we walk to the house. I’ll try not to incite you to violence a second time.”
She stared at his fingers held out to her, let out an exasperated breath, and took them. Varian was in a good mood, and she was restless again, restless from head to toe. Damn him. They walked in quiet for a while. Halfway there, she chanced a glance at him.
Frowning, Merry said, “I hit you. Why are you smiling? How is it possible never to lose your temper?”
Calmly, he said, “I prefer to do other things than fight with you. Tom is awaiting me in Richmond. I return to sea before month’s end.”
I? Merry felt her heart drop to her knees. He said ‘I’.
It was as she suspected. Varian was leaving her here, leaving her in the sisters’ care. Instead of anger, sadness flooded her veins. She felt herself move closely into his arm beside her.
His arm moved around her waist and tightened comfortably. Suspended in his gentleness and the feel of him, she held the memory of his lips against hers. As they walked, his warm male flesh close to her warmed her more delicate limbs. She took sharp notice that if left at Winderly, she would miss him. She did not want to be left behind and it had very little to do with the fear of such uncertainty.
Glancing sideways at his shadowed face, she wondered what he made of her and wondered if the thought of leaving her made him feel as she did; this sharp displeasure and sense of impending misery. She wondered if he did feel thusly, why he was determined in this course.
It was a subject she could not approach directly. It would betray too much of her feelings for him. She already betrayed herself at every turn. His leaving her at Winderly was, in a way, a kindness.
From a distant magnolia tree mockingbird song filled the quiet like tuned bells. Inside the house he led her to the stairs, and she moved beside him without hesitation, even when their journey took her into his own bedchamber. He released his hold on her and clicked closed the door behind him.
Somehow, it was not until she heard the click she wondered why he brought her here or why she had followed him so willingly. She had not been in his bedchamber before.
To cover the uneasy riot of her senses, Merry pretended to study the room. It was a large room occupied by a huge four-poster bed. Carved into the headboard was the crest she had seen her first day aboard ship on the small leather box from his sea chest. As in her room, yards of mosquito netting was tied to the posters. The room was elegant and masculine, yet held an oddly inviting coziness which made Merry feel immediately content. As odd as it was, she felt she belonged in his room. She went to stand beside the desk, pretending to examine the neatly organized items covering his desk, and her heart with each moment pounded a little faster.
A sound startled her, and she looked up to see Varian exiting his dressing room. He carried something long, wide and flat. Merry’s eyes flashed with surprise. “I’d forgotten you said you brought me something.”
With a charming smile, he replied, “I deliberately did not remind you on our walk back to the house, in hopes of not inciting you to violence a second time. Please don’t hit me with the case. As I said before, the gift is not from me.”
She made a face at him to mask all the other things she was feeling, as he motioned her to the chairs invitingly arranged before
The leaves rippled in the trees behind him, as gentle was his gaze, holding her as he said, “Is that really what you want?”
“Yes.” Once the word was out, it sounded childish, which was a disappointment. There was not enough conviction in her voice to fill a thimble.
Varian held out his hand to her. “Why don’t you come see what I brought you?”
Merry stood a frozen statue, her gaze a careful lock on the trees behind him. “Do you know how insufferable you are?” she asked.
“You can tell me while we walk to the house. I’ll try not to incite you to violence a second time.”
She stared at his fingers held out to her, let out an exasperated breath, and took them. Varian was in a good mood, and she was restless again, restless from head to toe. Damn him. They walked in quiet for a while. Halfway there, she chanced a glance at him.
Frowning, Merry said, “I hit you. Why are you smiling? How is it possible never to lose your temper?”
Calmly, he said, “I prefer to do other things than fight with you. Tom is awaiting me in Richmond. I return to sea before month’s end.”
I? Merry felt her heart drop to her knees. He said ‘I’.
It was as she suspected. Varian was leaving her here, leaving her in the sisters’ care. Instead of anger, sadness flooded her veins. She felt herself move closely into his arm beside her.
His arm moved around her waist and tightened comfortably. Suspended in his gentleness and the feel of him, she held the memory of his lips against hers. As they walked, his warm male flesh close to her warmed her more delicate limbs. She took sharp notice that if left at Winderly, she would miss him. She did not want to be left behind and it had very little to do with the fear of such uncertainty.
Glancing sideways at his shadowed face, she wondered what he made of her and wondered if the thought of leaving her made him feel as she did; this sharp displeasure and sense of impending misery. She wondered if he did feel thusly, why he was determined in this course.
It was a subject she could not approach directly. It would betray too much of her feelings for him. She already betrayed herself at every turn. His leaving her at Winderly was, in a way, a kindness.
From a distant magnolia tree mockingbird song filled the quiet like tuned bells. Inside the house he led her to the stairs, and she moved beside him without hesitation, even when their journey took her into his own bedchamber. He released his hold on her and clicked closed the door behind him.
Somehow, it was not until she heard the click she wondered why he brought her here or why she had followed him so willingly. She had not been in his bedchamber before.
To cover the uneasy riot of her senses, Merry pretended to study the room. It was a large room occupied by a huge four-poster bed. Carved into the headboard was the crest she had seen her first day aboard ship on the small leather box from his sea chest. As in her room, yards of mosquito netting was tied to the posters. The room was elegant and masculine, yet held an oddly inviting coziness which made Merry feel immediately content. As odd as it was, she felt she belonged in his room. She went to stand beside the desk, pretending to examine the neatly organized items covering his desk, and her heart with each moment pounded a little faster.
A sound startled her, and she looked up to see Varian exiting his dressing room. He carried something long, wide and flat. Merry’s eyes flashed with surprise. “I’d forgotten you said you brought me something.”
With a charming smile, he replied, “I deliberately did not remind you on our walk back to the house, in hopes of not inciting you to violence a second time. Please don’t hit me with the case. As I said before, the gift is not from me.”
She made a face at him to mask all the other things she was feeling, as he motioned her to the chairs invitingly arranged before
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