Read Online Midnight in Austenland by Shannon Hale - Free Book Online Page A

your secret lair?”
    â€œNot today, Mrs. Cordial.” He glanced at her then back at the road. “Would you like to take a turn driving?”
    â€œMe? I don’t know how.”
    â€œIt is simple enough,” he said, handing her the reins. “Keep to this lane, straight ahead. I will drive again when we come to the bend.”
    She gripped the reins, sitting so straight her back hurt.
    â€œThat is fine. Do not pull back unless you wish to stop. Give him a tap there, he is slowing. There, well done.” He leaned against the bench, angling toward her. “Now I can get a look at you.”
    She tore her gaze from the road for the barest moment and saw that he was, indeed, looking at her, and in a way that made her hands sweat on the reins.
    â€œOh no, don’t do that. Stop it.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause you make me nervous.”
    â€œSo you said. It becomes imperative that I determine why you have that effect on me.”
    â€œCome on, I don’t make anyone nervous.”
    â€œApparently, I am not anyone .”
    She blew out her cheeks and tried to focus on driving. She could feel him staring at her, contemplating her, and it was such an unfamiliar sensation that she sprouted goose bumps as if she’d been tickled. Thoughts fled her head. Apparently they found the place too crazy to stick around.
    â€œHm …” he said.
    Her heart beat harder. Had he noticed her brow wrinkle?
    â€œWhat is it? What are you hm -ing about?”
    â€œYou have freckles.” He ran a fingertip along her cheekbone. “A thing I had not noticed before. Yes, this has been productive.”
    â€œI don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” she whispered, his finger still touching her face. She didn’t mind so much, except for how hot her face felt.
    â€œMrs. Cordial,” he said gently, “you are the one with the alluring freckles. I simply observe.” But he removed his hand.
    At last the bend appeared, and she stuffed the reins into his hands, leaning back to sigh.
    â€œAnd what would you do if I stared at you now?” she asked.
    â€œThe same as you, I suppose—grit my teeth and look elsewhere. Preferable to be the gazer than the gazed upon, is it not?”
    She did look him over since she could. His profile was significant, as if it belonged on legal tender. His jaw was delightful to contemplate, and his long hair pulled back beneath that top hat was just so manly.
    Really? her Inner Thoughts said. Are you sure ponytail plus top hat equals manly?
    You tell me, Charlotte challenged.
    Her Inner Thoughts shut up after that, probably too distracted by Mr. Mallery’s manliness to taunt her anymore.
    â€œIf you must look at me so,” he said, “I wish that you at least would speak.”
    â€œI don’t know what to say.”
    â€œSpeak aloud one of your thoughts.”
    â€œI … I think your profile belongs on a dollar bill.”
    â€œThat sentence will keep me wondering late into the night.”
    She could see the roof of Pembrook Park in the distance, but closer still was a cottage. Some country dweller’s home? She flinched, thinking she might have to be seen again by the denimed and T-shirted variety. But as they pulled alongside, she noticed the air of abandonment.
    â€œWhat’s this house?”
    â€œPembrook Cottage.”
    â€œIt’s a sweet little house,” she said.
    He nodded. “Pembrook Cottage has belonged to the same people who own the Park for centuries. But it is to be sold soon.”
    His tone edged with bitterness, and Charlotte recalled that the big house and the cottage would have been his. Or his character’s, anyway. She tucked that information away in case it might prove helpful later.
    The carriage was already at the big house when they pulled up.
    â€œI feel fine,” Miss Gardenside was telling Mrs. Hatchet, but she did look gray and wilty and