Read Online Pleasing the Colonel by Renee Rose - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Renee Rose
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true sentimentality. The ponies, I do indeed love, but the furniture… I mean, it's not that I am so very attached to it, although some pieces are quite nice. It's more that I couldn't stand the idea of Belford throwing our things away, or selling them for a pittance.”
He nodded his understanding.
“But now you've gone to all this trouble to come here and load it up… and I'm a bit embarrassed, actually. Not all of it is high quality and…”
He couldn't help but chuckle—she was adorable. She looked at him in surprise. “You amuse me, Miss Downy.”
She looked disconcerted. “How so?”
He looked out the carriage window for a moment, thoughtfully, then back at her, hiding a smile. “You are…” he waved his hand. “I don't know. I find your confession quite charming.” He smiled at her with fondness.
She blushed. “You're not angry? To have gone to all this trouble of hitching a wagon and carting the furniture all the way back just because I didn't want to give my cousin the satisfaction of disposing of it himself?”
He smiled at her indulgently. “I don't mind in the slightest. Your cousin treated you poorly and you deserve to preserve your dignity by having your belongings restored to you.”
She sat back with a shocked look on her face. He laughed again. “Does that surprise you, Miss Downy?”
She met his eye and he was surprised to see tears glistening there again. “Thank you,” she said with sincerity. “Truly.”
His heart tugged at that. She was pure sweetness. He reached over to pat her hand but before he knew it, he had picked it up and was drawing it toward his mouth. Fortunately, he stopped himself in time—it was not acceptable to kiss the inside of her wrist, nor to pull her into his arms, nor to kiss those raspberry lips. Instead he squeezed her hand and offered understanding, “You know, Miss Downy, you've taken on an enormous responsibility since your father died—handling your family's financial matters without any help.”
Her composure broke and she choked back a sob. He rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of her gloved hand.
“My father asked me to take care of my mother and my sister after he'd gone,” she said in a strangled voice. “And I've done the best I can, but it hasn't been enough. We are all separated, and neither of them is happy with their new situation.”
“You said your sister is a governess in Banford?” he asked gently.
She looked at him ruefully. “Yes. Is there nothing I said the night of the carriage accident that you didn't commit to memory?”
He chuckled. “Not all of it was damaging,” he reassured her.
“I miss my father so much,” she burst out confidingly. “I never knew how quickly and completely one's world could change.”
His own heart constricted. He remembered that feeling distinctly from his wife Gracie's death. “Aye, death is a cruel mistress,” he said with feeling. “Anyway, I don't want you to feel as though you must shoulder it all alone. I am here to help.”
She sniffled. “I am overwhelmed by your generosity.”
He released her hand and gave her his handkerchief.
After a moment, she looked at him with an impish little smile growing on her lips. “I must confess that I'm not truly sorry that I lied about my references, else I never would have gained your employ.”
He tried to frown, but failed completely and laughed instead. “I cannot approve of your methods,” he said, “but I'm not sorry either.”
* * *
Perhaps because traveling alone with him made Mandy realize just how kind the Colonel was underneath his cold exterior, she began to deplore the stiffness in him even more. Observing him with the children, she noted how they still had not warmed up to him—their own father—and remained formal and nervous in his presence. Considering the children had no parent but him, this seemed tragic.
She noted it particularly when he joined their riding lesson later in the week. His very
He nodded his understanding.
“But now you've gone to all this trouble to come here and load it up… and I'm a bit embarrassed, actually. Not all of it is high quality and…”
He couldn't help but chuckle—she was adorable. She looked at him in surprise. “You amuse me, Miss Downy.”
She looked disconcerted. “How so?”
He looked out the carriage window for a moment, thoughtfully, then back at her, hiding a smile. “You are…” he waved his hand. “I don't know. I find your confession quite charming.” He smiled at her with fondness.
She blushed. “You're not angry? To have gone to all this trouble of hitching a wagon and carting the furniture all the way back just because I didn't want to give my cousin the satisfaction of disposing of it himself?”
He smiled at her indulgently. “I don't mind in the slightest. Your cousin treated you poorly and you deserve to preserve your dignity by having your belongings restored to you.”
She sat back with a shocked look on her face. He laughed again. “Does that surprise you, Miss Downy?”
She met his eye and he was surprised to see tears glistening there again. “Thank you,” she said with sincerity. “Truly.”
His heart tugged at that. She was pure sweetness. He reached over to pat her hand but before he knew it, he had picked it up and was drawing it toward his mouth. Fortunately, he stopped himself in time—it was not acceptable to kiss the inside of her wrist, nor to pull her into his arms, nor to kiss those raspberry lips. Instead he squeezed her hand and offered understanding, “You know, Miss Downy, you've taken on an enormous responsibility since your father died—handling your family's financial matters without any help.”
Her composure broke and she choked back a sob. He rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of her gloved hand.
“My father asked me to take care of my mother and my sister after he'd gone,” she said in a strangled voice. “And I've done the best I can, but it hasn't been enough. We are all separated, and neither of them is happy with their new situation.”
“You said your sister is a governess in Banford?” he asked gently.
She looked at him ruefully. “Yes. Is there nothing I said the night of the carriage accident that you didn't commit to memory?”
He chuckled. “Not all of it was damaging,” he reassured her.
“I miss my father so much,” she burst out confidingly. “I never knew how quickly and completely one's world could change.”
His own heart constricted. He remembered that feeling distinctly from his wife Gracie's death. “Aye, death is a cruel mistress,” he said with feeling. “Anyway, I don't want you to feel as though you must shoulder it all alone. I am here to help.”
She sniffled. “I am overwhelmed by your generosity.”
He released her hand and gave her his handkerchief.
After a moment, she looked at him with an impish little smile growing on her lips. “I must confess that I'm not truly sorry that I lied about my references, else I never would have gained your employ.”
He tried to frown, but failed completely and laughed instead. “I cannot approve of your methods,” he said, “but I'm not sorry either.”
* * *
Perhaps because traveling alone with him made Mandy realize just how kind the Colonel was underneath his cold exterior, she began to deplore the stiffness in him even more. Observing him with the children, she noted how they still had not warmed up to him—their own father—and remained formal and nervous in his presence. Considering the children had no parent but him, this seemed tragic.
She noted it particularly when he joined their riding lesson later in the week. His very
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