Read Online Mrs. Drew Plays Her Hand by Carla Kelly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carla Kelly
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Drew, if I could sleep on your sofa for the rest of this night?"
She hung his coat on the coatrack by the door. "That will be difficult, my lord, as I do not have a sofa." She picked up the lamp she had carried downstairs with her and held it high so he could look into the sitting room, with the floorboards new and raw, but unpainted, and the wallpaper in tatters. "We're redoing it room by room, and the girls' bedroom was more important."
He looked around the bare room, cold and cheerless in the moonlight that streamed through the uncurtained window. "I certainly hope Tibbie is not charging you too much rent."
She laughed. "Oh, no. I am sure I am cheating you, my lord." She paused, as if trying to gauge his mood. "In the morning, I can show you what we have done with some of the other rooms. They should meet with your approval." He noted the touch of anxiety in her voice, but made no comment upon it.
He took his coat from the rack and carried it into the sitting room. "I can manage all right here on the floor," he said, spreading out the coat.
Her delightful eyes opened wider at that and she shook her head vehemently. "I won't hear of it, Lord Winn," she said, her voice a bit breathless. "I have a much better idea. You may take my bed."
It was his turn to open his eyes wide and stare at her. "I wouldn't dream of that, madam!" he insisted, and felt his cheeks grow warm.
"It's the only solution I will consider," she said firmly, and again he felt himself yielding without complaint to her competent management. "I can sleep with my daughters. There is even a hot water bottle for you." She peered at his face, her eyes filled with concern. "You look as though you have a headache."
"I do," he replied simply, charmed that she would notice, and quite forgetting his headache. "It's hard to ride in snow."
"I have headache powders in my room on the bedside table.
You will feel much better in the morning if you take some. Come, my lord. My feet are bare and the floor is cold."
He shook his head at her forthrightness, then remembered his horse. "Is it too much to expect a stable behind your house?"
"I am sorry, my lord. There is a little shed. You could stable him there until Tibbie arrives in the morning."
She sat herself on the bottom step while he went back outside, hurried his horse around to the shed, and tethered him there. "It'll do, 'awd lad," he said in his broadest Yorkshire as he removed the saddle and covered his back with several pieces of sacking. "We'll find better accommodations for you in the morning."
Mrs. Drew was still seated on the stairs and leaning against the banister, her eyes closed, when he came back in. He stood there a moment, taking in her loveliness, admiring her full lips and the absurd length of her eyelashes. This was a vicar's wife? My God, he thought, in reverent impiety.
"Mrs. Drew?" he said softly.
She opened her eyes, and he almost chuckled at that natural look of surprise on her face.. I wonder, can you ever frown? he thought in delight.
"Well, now, perhaps you will come upstairs?" she said. "Duck your head halfway up. The ceiling gets a little low there where the stairs turn."
lie followed her up obediently, ducking where he was bid, and breathing in the pleasant odor of lavender that trailed behind her. She hurried up the stairs, her bare feet quiet on the treads. At the top, she held up the lamp for the rest of his ascent.
"This way, my lord," she said, and motioned him into the first room.
There was only the paltriest fire in the grating, but it glowed a welcome at him as he went straight to it to strip off his gloves and warm his hands. While he stood there, she gathered together some clothing from the tiny dressing room off the bedroom, then joined him at the fireplace.
"Good night, my lord," she said softly. "You should sleep very well here. Tibbie arrives around nine al the manor house, so you will have time to breakfast with us before you go, providing you like
She hung his coat on the coatrack by the door. "That will be difficult, my lord, as I do not have a sofa." She picked up the lamp she had carried downstairs with her and held it high so he could look into the sitting room, with the floorboards new and raw, but unpainted, and the wallpaper in tatters. "We're redoing it room by room, and the girls' bedroom was more important."
He looked around the bare room, cold and cheerless in the moonlight that streamed through the uncurtained window. "I certainly hope Tibbie is not charging you too much rent."
She laughed. "Oh, no. I am sure I am cheating you, my lord." She paused, as if trying to gauge his mood. "In the morning, I can show you what we have done with some of the other rooms. They should meet with your approval." He noted the touch of anxiety in her voice, but made no comment upon it.
He took his coat from the rack and carried it into the sitting room. "I can manage all right here on the floor," he said, spreading out the coat.
Her delightful eyes opened wider at that and she shook her head vehemently. "I won't hear of it, Lord Winn," she said, her voice a bit breathless. "I have a much better idea. You may take my bed."
It was his turn to open his eyes wide and stare at her. "I wouldn't dream of that, madam!" he insisted, and felt his cheeks grow warm.
"It's the only solution I will consider," she said firmly, and again he felt himself yielding without complaint to her competent management. "I can sleep with my daughters. There is even a hot water bottle for you." She peered at his face, her eyes filled with concern. "You look as though you have a headache."
"I do," he replied simply, charmed that she would notice, and quite forgetting his headache. "It's hard to ride in snow."
"I have headache powders in my room on the bedside table.
You will feel much better in the morning if you take some. Come, my lord. My feet are bare and the floor is cold."
He shook his head at her forthrightness, then remembered his horse. "Is it too much to expect a stable behind your house?"
"I am sorry, my lord. There is a little shed. You could stable him there until Tibbie arrives in the morning."
She sat herself on the bottom step while he went back outside, hurried his horse around to the shed, and tethered him there. "It'll do, 'awd lad," he said in his broadest Yorkshire as he removed the saddle and covered his back with several pieces of sacking. "We'll find better accommodations for you in the morning."
Mrs. Drew was still seated on the stairs and leaning against the banister, her eyes closed, when he came back in. He stood there a moment, taking in her loveliness, admiring her full lips and the absurd length of her eyelashes. This was a vicar's wife? My God, he thought, in reverent impiety.
"Mrs. Drew?" he said softly.
She opened her eyes, and he almost chuckled at that natural look of surprise on her face.. I wonder, can you ever frown? he thought in delight.
"Well, now, perhaps you will come upstairs?" she said. "Duck your head halfway up. The ceiling gets a little low there where the stairs turn."
lie followed her up obediently, ducking where he was bid, and breathing in the pleasant odor of lavender that trailed behind her. She hurried up the stairs, her bare feet quiet on the treads. At the top, she held up the lamp for the rest of his ascent.
"This way, my lord," she said, and motioned him into the first room.
There was only the paltriest fire in the grating, but it glowed a welcome at him as he went straight to it to strip off his gloves and warm his hands. While he stood there, she gathered together some clothing from the tiny dressing room off the bedroom, then joined him at the fireplace.
"Good night, my lord," she said softly. "You should sleep very well here. Tibbie arrives around nine al the manor house, so you will have time to breakfast with us before you go, providing you like
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