Read Online The Beloved One by Danelle Harmon - Free Book Online

rascals, sailors, blackguards and scum.  It is no place for her, and since I've been rendered useless in my ability to protect her, I will remain here until someone can come up from Boston to collect me.  I will not see her life or virtue risked on my account.  By God, I will not! "
    Sylvanus's brows shot straight to the roots of his sparse white hair.  And Amy, who had never before had anyone defend her in such a gallant way, had never thought of herself as a woman worthy of "protection," and had never been the focus of such gentlemanly concern, widened her eyes and put her hand to a suddenly fluttering heart.
    "Papa," she said carefully, "Lord Charles has just woken up.  He is exhausted, upset, and needs time to rest.  Time to come to terms with what has happened to him.  Maybe you should have this conversation with him later."
    Sylvanus, his face white, nodded.  He made a comment about getting back to his sermon and hastily exited the room, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
    Once he had gone, Charles's shoulders rose on a great sigh of weariness, then fell.  There was no pride to maintain, now.  No reason to show strength where none was needed.  He put his head in his hands and stayed that way for a long time, not saying a word while the girl moved about the room, quietly performing her slave-duties.  But he could not get her out of his mind.  Her humiliation had been, and still was, nearly palpable.  The way her sisters had attacked her, the way her apathetic father had failed to defend her, the way her cowardly brother had allowed her to shoulder blame that was his and his alone, gave him a tangible outlet for anger which heretofore, had no other but self-pity.  They were a pack of wolves after a little fawn.  They were horrible.  And as she silently went about preparing supper, Charles decided that he had never disliked anyone as much as he did these people who called themselves her family.
    The stew was thick and bubbling, the bread a lovely golden brown, and the fragrance of beef, onions, and herbs filled the keeping room before he finally spoke.
    "Miss Leighton."
    He heard her crossing the room, the brush of air against his face as she knelt down to his level, taking the hand he held out to her in silent apology.  "Yes, Lord Charles?"
    "I am sorry for embarrassing you so.  Forgive me."
    "Oh, there's nothing to forgive," she said, squeezing his hand and then releasing it.  "I know you're not angry with my family, but with your circumstances —"
    "On the contrary, Miss Leighton, I am furious with your family.  I do not know if I can suffer them for the remainder of my stay here."
    "I don't mind bringing you back to Boston, then, if you want to go —"
    "Damn it, girl, don't fuel my fury with such remarks!"  Charles dug his fists into his eyes and then, in a calmer, quieter voice, murmured, "I need you to do me a kindness."
    "Certainly."
    "Can you read and write?"
    "Yes."
    "Providence smiles on me at last.  I need someone to pen three letters for me.  Will you do that?"
    "Oh, yes.  We can do them right now, if you like.  Supper won't be ready for a while, and I'm just tidying up a bit, that's all . . ."  He heard her jump to her feet.  "I'd be happy to write your letters for you, Captain de Montforte, even post them for you in the morning —"
    "No.  You have more than enough to do.  Let your sisters post them."
    "I don't mind, really —"
    "I mind.  Let them do it."
    "Well . . . all right."  He heard the whisper of her petticoats, caught the tantalizing scent of bayberry mingled with warm, soft female as she came close.  His senses heightened, his skin warming at her nearness, and Charles frowned, disturbed by his reaction to her.  "Now, if you'll take my hand, I'll bring you into Papa's study, where there's pen and paper."
    He extended his hand up toward her voice, unaware that she, at the same time, was beginning to lean down.  His fingers plunged through cloth and into the