Read Online The Black Widow by Charlotte Louise Dolan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlotte Louise Dolan
Tags: Romance
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stepped back out of the way, and Lord Thorverton flicked the reins, and the carriage moved forward, albeit slowly since the crush of vehicles was too great to permit sustained progress.
“Something has upset you,” he said in a low voice.
Surreptitiously wiping a tear from the corner of her eye with the tip of her glove, Meribe was grateful that he was looking at his horses and not at her. She did not want him to gain the erroneous impression that she was by nature a watering pot.
“It was nothing, really. My sister sometimes ...” She could not think of a tactful way to say that Hester’s barbed comments sometimes cut to the quick, but Lord Thorverton nodded anyway, understanding what she meant without needing her to finish the sentence. It was one of the things that made him such an easy person to converse with.
“Do you know,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “it is not always easy being the elder brother or sister. I imagine my younger brother sometimes finds me every bit as aggravating as you do your sister.’’
Now, that was plainly a taradiddle. Lord Thorverton was so easygoing, so kindhearted, so ... so amiable that he could never say anything unkind to anyone, especially not to his own brother. Although—she sneaked a peek at him—she had to admit that when he became angry about an injustice, he could look truly formidable.
Luckily he had never become angry at her, and she could only pray that circumstances would never force her to feel the brunt of his wrath.
Glancing at the carriage approaching them, Meribe was caught totally off-guard by the sight of Lady Hazelmore, who waved gaily at them, or rather, she was waving and smiling at Lord Thorverton while ignoring Meribe as if they had never been introduced—as if she had never come to the Prestwich residence and poured her heart out to Meribe.
Perhaps it was the deliberate slight that made Meribe ask the question that had been nagging at her for days, ever since she had heard the tale of the broken betrothal ... or perhaps it was pure jealousy that Lord Thorverton had just now politely tipped his hat to the other woman. Whatever her motive, as soon as the other carriage was safely past them, Meribe heard herself blurt out the question she had never intended to ask.
“Was your heart truly broken?”
Lord Thorverton looked down at her, his expression enigmatic. “My heart?”
Even though she would have preferred to jump down out of the carriage and run away, she said with the best display of boldness that she could muster, “Lady Hazelmore paid me a visit a few days ago and told me the whole story of your betrothal and her subsequent elopement. ‘‘
“She did what?” Clearly Lord Thorverton was as astonished as she herself had been. “Why on earth would she do something like that?’’
“I am sure I could not say what her true motives were,” Meribe answered, unaccountably feeling a little miffed that he had not immediately asserted that his heart was still completely intact. “In any case, she told me she felt it was her duty to warn me that you are merely trifling with my affections—that you will never actually marry me.”
“You did not tell her about our plan, did you?” he asked, intentionally—or so it seemed to her—ignoring the much more interesting question of whether or not his heart had been broken.
“As a matter of fact, I did not tell her anything. Unlike some people, I am quite able to control my tongue,” Meribe said rather crossly, deliberately overlooking the fact that her tongue had been running away with her ever since she joined Lord Thorverton in his carriage.
“I am relieved to hear that,” he said. “I should hate to think my exertions on your behalf were all for naught.’’
It was common knowledge back in Norfolk that Meribe’s disposition was quite even. She had never been given to displays of temper like her older sister. Right now, however, Meribe realized that a
“Something has upset you,” he said in a low voice.
Surreptitiously wiping a tear from the corner of her eye with the tip of her glove, Meribe was grateful that he was looking at his horses and not at her. She did not want him to gain the erroneous impression that she was by nature a watering pot.
“It was nothing, really. My sister sometimes ...” She could not think of a tactful way to say that Hester’s barbed comments sometimes cut to the quick, but Lord Thorverton nodded anyway, understanding what she meant without needing her to finish the sentence. It was one of the things that made him such an easy person to converse with.
“Do you know,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “it is not always easy being the elder brother or sister. I imagine my younger brother sometimes finds me every bit as aggravating as you do your sister.’’
Now, that was plainly a taradiddle. Lord Thorverton was so easygoing, so kindhearted, so ... so amiable that he could never say anything unkind to anyone, especially not to his own brother. Although—she sneaked a peek at him—she had to admit that when he became angry about an injustice, he could look truly formidable.
Luckily he had never become angry at her, and she could only pray that circumstances would never force her to feel the brunt of his wrath.
Glancing at the carriage approaching them, Meribe was caught totally off-guard by the sight of Lady Hazelmore, who waved gaily at them, or rather, she was waving and smiling at Lord Thorverton while ignoring Meribe as if they had never been introduced—as if she had never come to the Prestwich residence and poured her heart out to Meribe.
Perhaps it was the deliberate slight that made Meribe ask the question that had been nagging at her for days, ever since she had heard the tale of the broken betrothal ... or perhaps it was pure jealousy that Lord Thorverton had just now politely tipped his hat to the other woman. Whatever her motive, as soon as the other carriage was safely past them, Meribe heard herself blurt out the question she had never intended to ask.
“Was your heart truly broken?”
Lord Thorverton looked down at her, his expression enigmatic. “My heart?”
Even though she would have preferred to jump down out of the carriage and run away, she said with the best display of boldness that she could muster, “Lady Hazelmore paid me a visit a few days ago and told me the whole story of your betrothal and her subsequent elopement. ‘‘
“She did what?” Clearly Lord Thorverton was as astonished as she herself had been. “Why on earth would she do something like that?’’
“I am sure I could not say what her true motives were,” Meribe answered, unaccountably feeling a little miffed that he had not immediately asserted that his heart was still completely intact. “In any case, she told me she felt it was her duty to warn me that you are merely trifling with my affections—that you will never actually marry me.”
“You did not tell her about our plan, did you?” he asked, intentionally—or so it seemed to her—ignoring the much more interesting question of whether or not his heart had been broken.
“As a matter of fact, I did not tell her anything. Unlike some people, I am quite able to control my tongue,” Meribe said rather crossly, deliberately overlooking the fact that her tongue had been running away with her ever since she joined Lord Thorverton in his carriage.
“I am relieved to hear that,” he said. “I should hate to think my exertions on your behalf were all for naught.’’
It was common knowledge back in Norfolk that Meribe’s disposition was quite even. She had never been given to displays of temper like her older sister. Right now, however, Meribe realized that a
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