Read Online House of Trent 01.5 - His for Christmas by Jennifer Haymore - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Haymore
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looking for me.”
The answer was revealed two minutes later when the vehicle was within a few yards of them. The coachman stopped the horses with a shouted, “Whoa!” and a man stomped out of the carriage and headed toward them.
“Amelia!” he called, making long strides in their direction. The Earl of Cheltham cut an imposing figure—he was tall and broad-shouldered, with thinning blond hair and the piercing blue eyes of his eldest daughter. He wore a thick black greatcoat, a contrast to the whiteness of the snow he strode over. As he reached the sleigh, he scowled at Evan for the briefest of moments before reaching for Amelia. “Are you all right, my dear?”
“Of course, Papa. You haven’t been worried, have you?”
“Of course we’ve been worried! We’ve been beside ourselves!” The earl opened the sleigh door and lifted his daughter out bodily, settling her on her feet at arm’s length and looking her up and down as if to make sure she was in one piece. Then he pulled her to him in a great hug.
“Really, Papa!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled against his chest. “I’m quite all right.” She drew back from him and explained, “The axle broke on my carriage in the height of the storm yesterday. John and I were so lucky to have encountered Mr. Cameron on the road just a few hours later.”
“That’s not exactly how I heard it,” the earl muttered. His gaze moved to Evan again. He gave Evan a curt nod. “Cameron.”
“My lord,” Evan said, equally cool.
“I’ll take her from here,” the earl said.
Evan froze as the cold air seemed to seep through his layers of clothes and into his bones at Lord Cheltham’s words.
The thought of going home, turning away from her, putting distance between them…No. He didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to stay as close to her as possible…for as long as possible.
And yet, did he have a choice? The earl didn’t seem to be eager to welcome Evan into his home with open arms. And Evan’s mother and aunt would be waiting for him.
“Oh, Papa,” Amelia murmured. “It’s nearly dark. I don’t want to force Mr. Cameron to drive at night when the roads are like this. Can he not stay at Cheltham House for the night and continue on home tomorrow?”
The earl ground his teeth—Evan could hear it. Then his cold gaze slid toward Evan. “I’ve no doubt the man can get home safely.”
Frowning, Amelia took another step back from her father. Without taking her eyes from his face, she said, “Papa? What is it?”
Lord Cheltham let out a harsh, wheezing breath. “Mr. Berwicke arrived earlier. He saw you at the inn in Postcombe last night, entering a room with that man.” He gave a rough gesture toward Evan but didn’t deign to look at him again. “Evidently Mr. Cameron”—he said Evan’s name with a sneer—“was bragging about it in the tavern. So now all of Postcombe believes you were seduced. And the word will spread rapidly, don’t doubt it.”
Berwicke, damn him. Evan should have expected this.
He had had enough. He slid out of the sleigh and moved to stand at Amelia’s side. She was looking at him in wide-eyed shock, and he knew why. She believed that when Evan had gone to fetch their dinner, he had willfully spread the rumor about who had been waiting for him in his room. She believed he’d betrayed her again.
One viperous gossip could make her question him. It made sense, after he’d destroyed her trust so completely years ago. But he would nip it in the bud this time.
“That man is a busybody attempting to stir trouble,” Evan stated, and if looks could freeze, he would have turned the earl into a solid block of ice. He turned to Amelia. “It isn’t true, Amelia. He talked to me while I was waiting for the dinner tray, and he asked if that was you. I told him it wasn’t.”
“You…lied?” she whispered.
Beside them, her father sucked in a breath, but Evan ignored it. He could manage her father’s rage, but he
The answer was revealed two minutes later when the vehicle was within a few yards of them. The coachman stopped the horses with a shouted, “Whoa!” and a man stomped out of the carriage and headed toward them.
“Amelia!” he called, making long strides in their direction. The Earl of Cheltham cut an imposing figure—he was tall and broad-shouldered, with thinning blond hair and the piercing blue eyes of his eldest daughter. He wore a thick black greatcoat, a contrast to the whiteness of the snow he strode over. As he reached the sleigh, he scowled at Evan for the briefest of moments before reaching for Amelia. “Are you all right, my dear?”
“Of course, Papa. You haven’t been worried, have you?”
“Of course we’ve been worried! We’ve been beside ourselves!” The earl opened the sleigh door and lifted his daughter out bodily, settling her on her feet at arm’s length and looking her up and down as if to make sure she was in one piece. Then he pulled her to him in a great hug.
“Really, Papa!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled against his chest. “I’m quite all right.” She drew back from him and explained, “The axle broke on my carriage in the height of the storm yesterday. John and I were so lucky to have encountered Mr. Cameron on the road just a few hours later.”
“That’s not exactly how I heard it,” the earl muttered. His gaze moved to Evan again. He gave Evan a curt nod. “Cameron.”
“My lord,” Evan said, equally cool.
“I’ll take her from here,” the earl said.
Evan froze as the cold air seemed to seep through his layers of clothes and into his bones at Lord Cheltham’s words.
The thought of going home, turning away from her, putting distance between them…No. He didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to stay as close to her as possible…for as long as possible.
And yet, did he have a choice? The earl didn’t seem to be eager to welcome Evan into his home with open arms. And Evan’s mother and aunt would be waiting for him.
“Oh, Papa,” Amelia murmured. “It’s nearly dark. I don’t want to force Mr. Cameron to drive at night when the roads are like this. Can he not stay at Cheltham House for the night and continue on home tomorrow?”
The earl ground his teeth—Evan could hear it. Then his cold gaze slid toward Evan. “I’ve no doubt the man can get home safely.”
Frowning, Amelia took another step back from her father. Without taking her eyes from his face, she said, “Papa? What is it?”
Lord Cheltham let out a harsh, wheezing breath. “Mr. Berwicke arrived earlier. He saw you at the inn in Postcombe last night, entering a room with that man.” He gave a rough gesture toward Evan but didn’t deign to look at him again. “Evidently Mr. Cameron”—he said Evan’s name with a sneer—“was bragging about it in the tavern. So now all of Postcombe believes you were seduced. And the word will spread rapidly, don’t doubt it.”
Berwicke, damn him. Evan should have expected this.
He had had enough. He slid out of the sleigh and moved to stand at Amelia’s side. She was looking at him in wide-eyed shock, and he knew why. She believed that when Evan had gone to fetch their dinner, he had willfully spread the rumor about who had been waiting for him in his room. She believed he’d betrayed her again.
One viperous gossip could make her question him. It made sense, after he’d destroyed her trust so completely years ago. But he would nip it in the bud this time.
“That man is a busybody attempting to stir trouble,” Evan stated, and if looks could freeze, he would have turned the earl into a solid block of ice. He turned to Amelia. “It isn’t true, Amelia. He talked to me while I was waiting for the dinner tray, and he asked if that was you. I told him it wasn’t.”
“You…lied?” she whispered.
Beside them, her father sucked in a breath, but Evan ignored it. He could manage her father’s rage, but he
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