Read Online More Than a Mistress by Ann Lethbridge - Free Book Online Page B

foolish woman. She glared back.
    He drew the horses to a halt and handed her the reins. ‘I’ll just be a moment.’
    ‘You surely aren’t thinking of pulling it out of the ditch?’
    ‘No. I want to look at the axle.’ His frown deepened.
    ‘Leave it to Jed.’
    He didn’t reply, just climbed down and trudged through the snow. Stubborn man.
    It was ridiculous. The snow had drifted well up the wheels. There was nothing to see. And what was the point of him getting soaked and cold? He was spoiling the afternoon.
    She had a good mind to drive off and leave him there.
    He headed back, stepping in the tracks he’d left. He went around to the back of the sleigh and grabbed a shovel.
    ‘Leave it be.’
    He ignored her. Blast the man. Merry wound the reins around a strut and jumped down. She followed in his footsteps, the snow clumping on the skirts of her coat, making it hard to walk. By the time she reached his side, she was sodden. He had one of the wheels cleared of snow.
    ‘This is foolishness,’ she said.
    ‘Is it?’ He crouched down. ‘It is just as I thought.’ He looked up at her, his face solemn. ‘This was no accident.’
    She put her hands on her hips. ‘Do you suppose I drove off the road on purpose?’
    ‘No. Look at that axle. It’s been sawn halfway through from below. The rest of it snapped, but it wasn’t an accident.’
    Her stomach fell away. ‘Why?’
    He rose to his feet. ‘Yes, Merry, why? Who would want to cause you serious harm? You could have been thrown from the carriage and killed, or died in the snowstorm.’
    Her heart stopped. Bile rose in her throat as she stared into the concern on his face. The world seemed to spin around her head as she tried to breathe.
    Slowly her heartbeat picked up again. She managed to take a breath. ‘I can’t think of anyone…’ Her voice tailed off as she remembered the mill owners’ faces at the guild hall. Angry red faces. And one very worried-looking Mr Prentice. ‘Oh, dear.’
    Was it possible one of them hated her so much he wanted her dead? Or all of them? Men she’d known all her life? The backs of her eyes burned. Her chest hurt. She wanted to bury her face against Tonbridge’s shoulder and weep like a child.
    ‘Who, Merry?’ he demanded, his voice almost a growl. ‘Who wants to hurt you?’
    She turned her face from his irate gaze. ‘You are mistaken,’ she said dully. ‘It must be an accident.’
    ‘The evidence is clear and it seems to me you know who did this.’
    The urge to unburden herself ached in her throat. She bit her lip against its allure and felt the chill of the air on her teeth. ‘There are several people who don’t like me very much at the moment.’
    ‘People?’
    He wasn’t going to let it rest. ‘Other mill owners. Town councillors. But, honestly, I don’t think any of them would have done such a dastardly thing. They are all respectable men. Pillars of Skepton.’
    ‘Is anyone else angry at you?’
    Her teeth started to chatter. Cold. Shock. Damn it, fear, too. ‘Certainly not. Next you will be telling me this is my fault.’ She spun away from him. ‘This is none of your concern, my lord,’ she called back as she stomped away. ‘Let us return home before we freeze to death.’
    ‘Merry, wait.’
    She kept walking. She couldn’t stop, because if she did, she might fall down, her knees felt so weak. Because if she stopped, she might truly believe someone had deliberately tried to end her life.
    He caught her by the arm and pulled her around to face him. ‘Oh, hell,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’ He wiped her cheek with his gloved thumb. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’
    Her breath stuck in her throat at the gentle concern in his face and the softness in his dark brown eyes. ‘Of course you didn’t scare me. The wind brought tears to my eyes.’
    He chuckled, a soft low warm sound that comforted rather than mocked. He pulled his hand from his glove and placed his palm against her cheek.