Read Online Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) by Lynette Vinet - Free Book Online
Authors: Lynette Vinet
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in her son’s direction. The boy bobbed his head eagerly.
“I’ll work hard for you, my lady, I swear I will,” Denney assured Marlee.
“I’m certain that with your help, all shall be efficiently run.” Marlee rose from her chair and called to Mrs. Mort who waited outside the library door and told her to take Mary and Denney to the servants’ wing.
For some reason Marlee noted that Mrs. Mort cast sidelong glances at the door. “Is something wrong?” Marlee queried.
“It’s Mr. Carpenter, my lady,” she admitted with a sniff of disdain. “He’s pacing the halls, not too thrilled about your hiring a staff, I think.”
“Why ever should that bother him?”
“You’d best ask him, my lady. Or your husband,” Mrs. Mort whispered so low under her breath that Marlee scarcely heard her.
Her husband. Marlee’s heart jolted at the thought of him. She hadn’t seen him all day. Where was Arden? Was he in the village, carousing with tavern wenches? She didn’t want to think about such a thing, in fact she didn’t have time to dwell upon Arden’s vices when she heard Carpenter’s voice in the hallway. “My lord, please don’t go into the library now…”
“Why ever not?” came Arden’s crisp retort and Marlee heard the impatient clicking of his boot heels on the marbled floor as he headed in her direction.
“Because Lady Arden—is hiring a staff.” But Carpenter’s response came too late. Already Arden waited in the doorway when Marlee turned from the others to gaze upon him.
Her heart fluttered like a dowager’s fan to see him again. The corners of her mouth started to turn into a pleased smile but the welcome faded from her eyes at his appearance. Standing there with a riding crop in hand, his dark hair windblown and ruffled, Arden looked like the devil himself. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was dressed entirely in black or that his usually shiny boots were now caked with wet sand that caused her uneasiness. In a corner of her mind, Marlee thought the clothes suited him more than the properly attired aristocrat she’d come to expect. There was something else, something more disturbing.
It was his eyes.
They glowed hot, almost like black pearls drenched in blazing sunlight. Her pulses beat hard as his sweltering gaze settled upon her. “What is going on here?” he asked in a silky controlled tone of voice, but Marlee noticed the displeasure concealed beneath the polished facade.
She curtsied as she’d been trained to do by Clementina, not out of a sense of deference but because she was so nervous at taking the household duties into her own hands she didn’t know how else to react. After all, this was his home, not hers. Not really. Not yet.
“I’ve hired a staff, my lord.” And that was the simple truth of the matter. If he didn’t like it, she couldn’t help his feelings, but she wouldn’t apologize—not in front of the help.
He looked about to explode, and she braced herself for an outburst. Instead, his demeanor and stance relaxed. He nodded in what she perceived was a dismissal. “I’d appreciate some privacy. I have things to discuss with Carpenter.”
“Yes, my lord.” Marlee hurried her charges out of the room, conscious of his onyx gaze upon her back. When she’d closed the door behind Arden and Carpenter, she spotted Simon and Barbara at the far end of the hallway. She’d have fled in their direction, but Mary Carter’s voice rooted her to the spot as the woman and her son followed after Mrs. Mort to the kitchen.
“Rose, that didn’t look like Lord Arden. Tis been some time since I last saw him, but he looks different somehow, I can’t explain it but—”
“Hush, Mary!” Mrs. Mort demanded and Marlee saw her take her sister roughly by the arm, pulling her along beside her.
“Me mum’s right, Aunt Rose,” Denney insisted. “That man t’ain’t Lord Arden, not Lord Richard. I know —I saw his lordship just a few weeks back when I visited
“I’ll work hard for you, my lady, I swear I will,” Denney assured Marlee.
“I’m certain that with your help, all shall be efficiently run.” Marlee rose from her chair and called to Mrs. Mort who waited outside the library door and told her to take Mary and Denney to the servants’ wing.
For some reason Marlee noted that Mrs. Mort cast sidelong glances at the door. “Is something wrong?” Marlee queried.
“It’s Mr. Carpenter, my lady,” she admitted with a sniff of disdain. “He’s pacing the halls, not too thrilled about your hiring a staff, I think.”
“Why ever should that bother him?”
“You’d best ask him, my lady. Or your husband,” Mrs. Mort whispered so low under her breath that Marlee scarcely heard her.
Her husband. Marlee’s heart jolted at the thought of him. She hadn’t seen him all day. Where was Arden? Was he in the village, carousing with tavern wenches? She didn’t want to think about such a thing, in fact she didn’t have time to dwell upon Arden’s vices when she heard Carpenter’s voice in the hallway. “My lord, please don’t go into the library now…”
“Why ever not?” came Arden’s crisp retort and Marlee heard the impatient clicking of his boot heels on the marbled floor as he headed in her direction.
“Because Lady Arden—is hiring a staff.” But Carpenter’s response came too late. Already Arden waited in the doorway when Marlee turned from the others to gaze upon him.
Her heart fluttered like a dowager’s fan to see him again. The corners of her mouth started to turn into a pleased smile but the welcome faded from her eyes at his appearance. Standing there with a riding crop in hand, his dark hair windblown and ruffled, Arden looked like the devil himself. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was dressed entirely in black or that his usually shiny boots were now caked with wet sand that caused her uneasiness. In a corner of her mind, Marlee thought the clothes suited him more than the properly attired aristocrat she’d come to expect. There was something else, something more disturbing.
It was his eyes.
They glowed hot, almost like black pearls drenched in blazing sunlight. Her pulses beat hard as his sweltering gaze settled upon her. “What is going on here?” he asked in a silky controlled tone of voice, but Marlee noticed the displeasure concealed beneath the polished facade.
She curtsied as she’d been trained to do by Clementina, not out of a sense of deference but because she was so nervous at taking the household duties into her own hands she didn’t know how else to react. After all, this was his home, not hers. Not really. Not yet.
“I’ve hired a staff, my lord.” And that was the simple truth of the matter. If he didn’t like it, she couldn’t help his feelings, but she wouldn’t apologize—not in front of the help.
He looked about to explode, and she braced herself for an outburst. Instead, his demeanor and stance relaxed. He nodded in what she perceived was a dismissal. “I’d appreciate some privacy. I have things to discuss with Carpenter.”
“Yes, my lord.” Marlee hurried her charges out of the room, conscious of his onyx gaze upon her back. When she’d closed the door behind Arden and Carpenter, she spotted Simon and Barbara at the far end of the hallway. She’d have fled in their direction, but Mary Carter’s voice rooted her to the spot as the woman and her son followed after Mrs. Mort to the kitchen.
“Rose, that didn’t look like Lord Arden. Tis been some time since I last saw him, but he looks different somehow, I can’t explain it but—”
“Hush, Mary!” Mrs. Mort demanded and Marlee saw her take her sister roughly by the arm, pulling her along beside her.
“Me mum’s right, Aunt Rose,” Denney insisted. “That man t’ain’t Lord Arden, not Lord Richard. I know —I saw his lordship just a few weeks back when I visited
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