Read Online His Secret Heroine by Delle Jacobs - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Delle Jacobs
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her bed, she curled up, clasping her pillow to her chest, resting her head on one corner, but she was still shaking.
She slept until noon. Even then the trembling would not quite leave her.
Chloe cracked the shell on her coddled egg. The shell clung where it should not, until she had to resort to using a spoon to remove it. The spoon slipped from her hand and clattered to the plate. Even her pasted smile that expressed both everything and nothing wobbled as she retrieved the spoon.
It was not the cold, although in spite of her denials, she certainly had been chilled. It was not even fear of death, for even as she had slipped close to the edge and felt herself dangling in space, she had been certain he would not let her die.
It was the kiss that had shaken her to her core. In one sweet moment, Chloe had discovered why a woman might choose to be a wanton, for some inner part of her had been craving this man's touch for all her life, and she had not known it.
She had no room in her life for that sort of thing. It was of paramount importance that she be in control of herself and life, or of any man she might marry. Otherwise, she could not be sure the man she chose would help in her endeavor to rescue her sisters from their malevolent uncle. Other women managed to control their situations, and until this day, Chloe had believed herself capable of the same. Now she was not so sure.
"Dear, we need not make morning calls today," Aunt Daphne said, reaching out a hand to touch Chloe's arm. "I know how you must feel ."
Chloe shot a glance at her aunt, then awkwardly looked down at her plate.
"It would be best if you rest a bit today, don't you think?"
"I am perfectly well, Aunt Daphne. And as you can see, the day is fine. Morning calls must be made."
"I shall say you have the headache this morning."
"And let it be bandied about that— no, Aunt. Someone will know we sailed yesterday, and with the storm, it will not do."
Daphne's eyes held a mischievous spark. "Dear, you know he will call on you this morning. He must."
"And if you have gone, I cannot see him. Aunt Daphne, he kissed me."
Her aunt's eyebrows rose, just enough to tell Chloe the only news she was imparting was that she was willingly sharing the tidings with her aunt. "Hmm. I thought he might. Then you have fixed his interest. Is that not what you wanted, my dear?"
Chloe couldn't tell whether she was nodding or shaking her head, any more than she could decide if her answer was yes or no.
"Such an intriguing young man. A number of worthy qualities, which I find most unusual for his gender. Since he is rather plump in the pocket as well, would you not find it advantageous?"
"Yes," Chloe mumbled miserably.
"Then when he comes, you will say you cannot receive him as you are alone, but if he is insistent, you will allow him a few minutes. It is those few minutes of privacy that so intrigue a young man, you know."
Sometimes Chloe had misgivings about her maiden aunt. How was it that she had managed to remain a spinster, yet know so much about the workings of a man's mind? Yet, since Aunt Daphne was rarely wrong, perhaps that was the very reason she had escaped the tie that bound.
Chloe waved feebly when her aunt rode away in the bumbling old coach, and she hurried back abovestairs to change her morning dress to something more suitable to wear at home. Then she sat down to finish the trim on the blue ball gown, attaching a single paste pearl to each point of the Van Dyke lace.
Aunt Daphne was soon proven right. Soon Cargill came to announce the arrival of Lord Reginald. Chloe laid aside the blue ball gown and pulled her slippers back on. Descending the stairs, she trailed a single finger along the brass rail, just to steady herself.
The affable smile that he wore so often, that she had come to expect on him, was absent. The sunny-day blue eyes that laughed and twinkled at everything were solemn and intense. She caught her breath, them reminded herself of her
She slept until noon. Even then the trembling would not quite leave her.
Chloe cracked the shell on her coddled egg. The shell clung where it should not, until she had to resort to using a spoon to remove it. The spoon slipped from her hand and clattered to the plate. Even her pasted smile that expressed both everything and nothing wobbled as she retrieved the spoon.
It was not the cold, although in spite of her denials, she certainly had been chilled. It was not even fear of death, for even as she had slipped close to the edge and felt herself dangling in space, she had been certain he would not let her die.
It was the kiss that had shaken her to her core. In one sweet moment, Chloe had discovered why a woman might choose to be a wanton, for some inner part of her had been craving this man's touch for all her life, and she had not known it.
She had no room in her life for that sort of thing. It was of paramount importance that she be in control of herself and life, or of any man she might marry. Otherwise, she could not be sure the man she chose would help in her endeavor to rescue her sisters from their malevolent uncle. Other women managed to control their situations, and until this day, Chloe had believed herself capable of the same. Now she was not so sure.
"Dear, we need not make morning calls today," Aunt Daphne said, reaching out a hand to touch Chloe's arm. "I know how you must feel ."
Chloe shot a glance at her aunt, then awkwardly looked down at her plate.
"It would be best if you rest a bit today, don't you think?"
"I am perfectly well, Aunt Daphne. And as you can see, the day is fine. Morning calls must be made."
"I shall say you have the headache this morning."
"And let it be bandied about that— no, Aunt. Someone will know we sailed yesterday, and with the storm, it will not do."
Daphne's eyes held a mischievous spark. "Dear, you know he will call on you this morning. He must."
"And if you have gone, I cannot see him. Aunt Daphne, he kissed me."
Her aunt's eyebrows rose, just enough to tell Chloe the only news she was imparting was that she was willingly sharing the tidings with her aunt. "Hmm. I thought he might. Then you have fixed his interest. Is that not what you wanted, my dear?"
Chloe couldn't tell whether she was nodding or shaking her head, any more than she could decide if her answer was yes or no.
"Such an intriguing young man. A number of worthy qualities, which I find most unusual for his gender. Since he is rather plump in the pocket as well, would you not find it advantageous?"
"Yes," Chloe mumbled miserably.
"Then when he comes, you will say you cannot receive him as you are alone, but if he is insistent, you will allow him a few minutes. It is those few minutes of privacy that so intrigue a young man, you know."
Sometimes Chloe had misgivings about her maiden aunt. How was it that she had managed to remain a spinster, yet know so much about the workings of a man's mind? Yet, since Aunt Daphne was rarely wrong, perhaps that was the very reason she had escaped the tie that bound.
Chloe waved feebly when her aunt rode away in the bumbling old coach, and she hurried back abovestairs to change her morning dress to something more suitable to wear at home. Then she sat down to finish the trim on the blue ball gown, attaching a single paste pearl to each point of the Van Dyke lace.
Aunt Daphne was soon proven right. Soon Cargill came to announce the arrival of Lord Reginald. Chloe laid aside the blue ball gown and pulled her slippers back on. Descending the stairs, she trailed a single finger along the brass rail, just to steady herself.
The affable smile that he wore so often, that she had come to expect on him, was absent. The sunny-day blue eyes that laughed and twinkled at everything were solemn and intense. She caught her breath, them reminded herself of her
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