Read Online His Convenient Marriage by Sara Craven - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sara Craven
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softened and relaxed, the hard mouth gen¬tler. The scarred side of his face was hidden, and his dark lashes, longer than she'd ever noticed, curled on his tanned cheek.
Chessie stood there feeling confused, and almost help¬less. This situation had never cropped up before. So, what did she do now? Wake him, or leave him to the rest he obviously needed?
'Well, make your mind up, Francesca. The suspense is killing me.'
The softly drawled words nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she clamped her lips tightly on a yowl of surprise.
'You're awake.'
'I'm a light sleeper.' He sat up slowly, suppressing a grimace of discomfort. 'I learned a long time ago that it's better to know and be alert when someone's creeping up on you.'
'I was not creeping anywhere,' Chessie denied with dig¬nity. 'I simply brought in your coffee and the post, as usual. And if you knew I was there, why did you let me go on standing about?' she added crossly, feeling a fool.
The sardonic smile flicked her. 'Perhaps I was hoping you'd wake me with a kiss.'
Chessie decided it was wiser to ignore that. 'Have you been up all night?' she asked, her brow furrowed.
He shrugged as he got to his feet, and stretched `It is something I do on occasion. I wasn't particularly tired last night, and I had a lot on my mind, so I went into the garden and sat for a while, then took a walk.' He paused. 'I gather you had a visitor.'
'Why—yes.' To her vexation, Chessie felt her face flood with colour. 'It's not against the rules, is it? And why were you spying on me?'
'I wasn't,' he said mildly. 'But like any householder, I'm interested in the identity of a stranger leaving my grounds after midnight.' He limped over to the table, and poured himself some coffee. `I hope he didn't cause you any prob¬lems.'
'Problems,' Chessie echoed. 'Why should he?' And what difference would one more make among so many, anyway?
'I assumed,' he said, 'that he was Jenny's unsuitable boy¬friend—the one you were so concerned about at dinner.'
'Oh,' she said. 'Oh, no. That was Alastair Markham— an old friend.'
'Markham?' Miles brows rose sharply. 'You mean he's connected to the spectacular lady we encountered last night?'
'Yes.' Chessie bit her hp. 'He's her stepson. His father's had a stroke, very sadly, so they've had to come back from Spain. And Alastair's come down from London to make Wenmore Court more—wheelchair-friendly.'
'And renew some old acquaintances.'
'Well, yes. Naturally.' Chessie lifted her chin. 'There's no harm in that, surely.'
'I think,' Miles said gently, 'that might depend on the acquaintance.'
'Are you claiming exclusive rights to my company on the basis of this—pseudo-engagement?' Her voice shook slightly.
'I'm not claiming anything at the moment.' Miles drained his cup, and replaced it on the tray. 'But when I do, you'll be in no doubt,' he added pleasantly.
He allowed her to assimilate that for a moment, then:
'How did your talk with Jenny go, by the way? Did you resolve anything?'
She could hardly tell him to mind his own business when she'd confided in him so readily twelve hours before.
'It wasn't a good time,' she said shortly. 'I'm going to take things up with her tonight.'
'Unless any more old friends drop by,' he murmured. 'You know, Francesca—'
His voice halted abruptly. Glancing across at him in sur¬prise, Chessie saw that he'd picked up the cream envelope and was staring at it, his face suddenly taut.
'Is something the matter?' If he can spy, she thought, then I can ask questions.
It was a moment before he answered, and when he looked at her Chessie had the odd impression that he wasn't really seeing her. That he'd been away somewhere else, and his journey had not been a happy one.
'Not a thing,' he said coolly. 'Except that I need to shower, and get a shave and a change of clothes. And you, of course, have work to do.'
'Yes,' she said, and summoned a brief smile. 'Your walk in the garden must have
Chessie stood there feeling confused, and almost help¬less. This situation had never cropped up before. So, what did she do now? Wake him, or leave him to the rest he obviously needed?
'Well, make your mind up, Francesca. The suspense is killing me.'
The softly drawled words nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she clamped her lips tightly on a yowl of surprise.
'You're awake.'
'I'm a light sleeper.' He sat up slowly, suppressing a grimace of discomfort. 'I learned a long time ago that it's better to know and be alert when someone's creeping up on you.'
'I was not creeping anywhere,' Chessie denied with dig¬nity. 'I simply brought in your coffee and the post, as usual. And if you knew I was there, why did you let me go on standing about?' she added crossly, feeling a fool.
The sardonic smile flicked her. 'Perhaps I was hoping you'd wake me with a kiss.'
Chessie decided it was wiser to ignore that. 'Have you been up all night?' she asked, her brow furrowed.
He shrugged as he got to his feet, and stretched `It is something I do on occasion. I wasn't particularly tired last night, and I had a lot on my mind, so I went into the garden and sat for a while, then took a walk.' He paused. 'I gather you had a visitor.'
'Why—yes.' To her vexation, Chessie felt her face flood with colour. 'It's not against the rules, is it? And why were you spying on me?'
'I wasn't,' he said mildly. 'But like any householder, I'm interested in the identity of a stranger leaving my grounds after midnight.' He limped over to the table, and poured himself some coffee. `I hope he didn't cause you any prob¬lems.'
'Problems,' Chessie echoed. 'Why should he?' And what difference would one more make among so many, anyway?
'I assumed,' he said, 'that he was Jenny's unsuitable boy¬friend—the one you were so concerned about at dinner.'
'Oh,' she said. 'Oh, no. That was Alastair Markham— an old friend.'
'Markham?' Miles brows rose sharply. 'You mean he's connected to the spectacular lady we encountered last night?'
'Yes.' Chessie bit her hp. 'He's her stepson. His father's had a stroke, very sadly, so they've had to come back from Spain. And Alastair's come down from London to make Wenmore Court more—wheelchair-friendly.'
'And renew some old acquaintances.'
'Well, yes. Naturally.' Chessie lifted her chin. 'There's no harm in that, surely.'
'I think,' Miles said gently, 'that might depend on the acquaintance.'
'Are you claiming exclusive rights to my company on the basis of this—pseudo-engagement?' Her voice shook slightly.
'I'm not claiming anything at the moment.' Miles drained his cup, and replaced it on the tray. 'But when I do, you'll be in no doubt,' he added pleasantly.
He allowed her to assimilate that for a moment, then:
'How did your talk with Jenny go, by the way? Did you resolve anything?'
She could hardly tell him to mind his own business when she'd confided in him so readily twelve hours before.
'It wasn't a good time,' she said shortly. 'I'm going to take things up with her tonight.'
'Unless any more old friends drop by,' he murmured. 'You know, Francesca—'
His voice halted abruptly. Glancing across at him in sur¬prise, Chessie saw that he'd picked up the cream envelope and was staring at it, his face suddenly taut.
'Is something the matter?' If he can spy, she thought, then I can ask questions.
It was a moment before he answered, and when he looked at her Chessie had the odd impression that he wasn't really seeing her. That he'd been away somewhere else, and his journey had not been a happy one.
'Not a thing,' he said coolly. 'Except that I need to shower, and get a shave and a change of clothes. And you, of course, have work to do.'
'Yes,' she said, and summoned a brief smile. 'Your walk in the garden must have
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