Read Online Rebellious Heart by Jody Hedlund - Free Book Online Page A

Nevertheless, her legs trembled, andshe was grateful for the layers of her petticoats that hid her embarrassment.
    “I don’t think you can do it,” he whispered.
    “Of course I can.” Before her rational side could convince her otherwise, she crossed her legs at the knees, plucked off her worsted damask shoe, and lifted her skirt and the layer of petticoats underneath. She bunched the satin to her knee—much higher than necessary, a spurt of defiance giving her fresh boldness. When she reached the top of her fine silk stocking, she plucked the ribbon of the garter and loosened it. Then she began to roll down the delicate material, deliberately slow, inch by inch revealing her smooth untouched skin.
    He followed the path her stocking made, his expression remaining calm as though he made an everyday occurrence viewing the bare legs of women.
    As she passed her ankle, her heart quivered. She was relieved when he stopped her with a touch of his hand.
    “I need to take your measurement with your stocking on, Susanna.”
    “Of course.” She lowered her lashes to hide the mortification that was sure to be in her eyes. Had she really almost willingly bared her foot to Benjamin Ross?
    She suspended her foot before him, resisting the overwhelming urge to pull her stockings back up to her knees and tuck her feet back into the safety of her petticoats.
    If he could view her leg and foot with unabashed boldness, then surely she could sit for a moment without squirming.
    He lifted his hand toward her foot, but hesitated. Only then did she notice him swallow hard. The tips of his fingers made contact with the sensitive skin of her sole before moving to trace the edge of her arch. Through the thin layer of silk his touch still sent ripples of warmth up her leg into her stomach.
    “I guess I finally must admit you’re quite grown up.” Only then did he look up.
    His gaze caressed her just as surely as his hand on her foot.
    She shivered at the intensity of the intimacy, the heat in her stomach tightening. She knew she ought to pull away, that she ought not to encourage him, that she needed to keep their interaction businesslike.
    But even if his hold on her foot was feather soft, his grip on her heart was like a balled fist. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
    “You’ve turned into a beautiful woman, Susanna” came his whispered confession, almost as if he were helpless to say anything else.
    The words stirred something inside her, something she couldn’t explain, which made her want to lean closer to him. She was sure he could hear the rapid tapping of her heartbeat against her ribs and see the longing in her eyes.
    She tried to form her lips into a smile. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for my past mistakes?”
    His gaze dropped. He fumbled for the measuring tape and lifted it to her foot. All the warmth of his touch evaporated and in its place was the brusqueness of a cordwainer.
    Had she read more into his words than he’d intended?
    “I truly am sorry for the intolerably rude things I said to you when we were younger.”
    “Let bygones be bygones.” He stretched the string across the length of her foot from her heel to her big toe.
    “Then you shall forgive me?” She wasn’t sure why she coveted his forgiveness, but suddenly she longed for it with a sharpness that set her on the edge of her chair.
    He flipped the measuring tape to the width of her foot but didn’t respond.
    An ache crimped a corner of her heart.
    Finally he sighed. “I forgive you, Susanna. But that doesn’t change who we are, does it?”
    Why did they have to consider who they were or what families they were from? But even as she asked herself the question, she knew it did matter—to both of them.
    “Perhaps we’ll be able to be friends?” she offered.
    “Perhaps.” His answer had a hollow ring to it.
    And much to her surprise, the uncertainty of his response left an emptiness in the middle of her