Read Online Nightingale by Cathy Maxwell - Free Book Online Page B

sleep.” He pulled back the bedsheets, and, like a child, she followed his lead and climbed into the bed beside him.
    Jemma curled her body to fit his. For an instant, she was tempted to whisper I love you. She didn’t speak the words aloud . . . or at least she thought she didn’t.
    Or perhaps it didn’t matter that she confessed her heart. Snuggled against the safe haven of his body, she pushed all worries aside. His hand came down around her waist, cuddling her closer, and she fell into deep, exhausted sleep.
    J emma woke several hours later. The curtains were still drawn tight, and the candles were all burned out. However, she sensed it was morning.
    Groggy as she was with the need for sleep, it took a moment for her memory to return, and when it did, she immediately rolled over on the bed to where Dane had been sleeping.
    He was gone.
    Abruptly, she sat up and looked around the room. “Dane?”
    There was no answer. Nor was there a clock where she could look to see what time it was. What was left of the fire smoldered in the grate.
    The dress she had worn last night was no longer on the floor by the desk. Her torn undergarments were gone, too.
    Outside in the hallway, she heard a woman and a man arguing and knew that was what had woken her.
    She raised the sheet up around her to cover her nakedness and pushed back her heavy hair from her face feeling very uncertain—and then she recognized her mother’s voice.
    The door came open with a bang.
    Dane’s valet spread himself in the doorway to bar her entrance into the room. “Madame, you will not enter!” he said.
    â€œI most certainly will,” came her mother’s tart reply. She looked past the valet. “Jemma, call this man off.”
    Jemma burned with embarrassment from head to toe, but she did not cringe. Instead, she said, “Please, it’s all right. Let her come in.”
    The valet appeared ready to argue but stepped aside. Her mother was wearing her Sunday best bonnet and dress. She gave the man a superior glare and walked into the room.
    â€œPlease, shut the door,” Jemma said, not wishing anyone to be a witness to a difficult interview.
    Her mother complied, her expression smug, and why not? Jemma had no doubt that her mother hadn’t anticipated this turn of events. She wrapped herself in her pride.
    â€œSo, you did,” her mother said. “I had feared the worst.”
    â€œThe worst? Why, Mother? Was this not what you had expected?”
    Her mother nodded, and then her expression of superiority changed to one of deep regret. She raised a distracted hand to her head, pushing her bonnet askew. “I had hoped, but it was all in vain.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œHe’s duped us both, Jemma. Dane Pendleton met Cris this morning. They are fighting the duel.”

Chapter 10
    J emma had trouble wrapping her mind around her mother’s words. As if from a distance, she heard herself dumbly repeat, “Dane met Cris today?”
    â€œYes,” her mother bit out.
    â€œBut he couldn’t . . .” Jemma couldn’t believe he would. Not Dane. Not after what had transpired between them last night.
    Then again, what had happened? Had he actually promised to refuse to meet Cris? Or had she been so involved in her own turbulent emotions that she had failed her brother?
    â€œI suppose now we know you weren’t so special to him.” Her mother’s sharp sarcasm interrupted her thoughts.
    Jemma doubled her hands into fists and squeezed tight. It was either that or break down completely and behave like a madwoman. She could have attacked her mother for her callous words. Or herself, for being so gullible. Again!
    When would she learn?
    Once more she had been a pawn for her family. Worse, she had believed Dane cared for her, that he had some feeling for her.
    With blinding clarity, she realized that all she’d ever wanted in her life was