Read Online The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter by Maggi Andersen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maggi Andersen
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with her crop had the mare in a trot. Lord Trentham fell behind her on the narrow path.
“That’s good. Well done,” he called.
The path ahead was a long, straight run. Planning to rein her in at the end, Eugenia leaned forward and urged the horse into a canter. Grey Dreamer needed little persuasion. She took off like an arrow.
“Eugenia!” Lord Trentham called behind her. “Rein her in at once!”
“What did you say, my lord?” Some minutes later, where the trail curved to the right, Grey Dreamer lunged left, perhaps spooked at the sight of a squirrel running along a bow overhead. They emerged onto a sunlit meadow bordered by a low fence. As the horse showed no inclination to slow, Eugenia hung on. Grey Dreamer aimed straight for the fence and jumped, landing hard on her stocky legs and juddering Eugenia’s chin. Then the horse slowed, ambled across to a small stream, and lowered her head to drink. Eugenia turned around to watch Lord Trentham’s beautiful stallion take the jump far more gracefully. He rode up to her. “You will be responsible for my relapse, Eugenia.” he said sounding cross.
“Oh no, please don’t say it.” Filled with anxious remorse, while determined not to admit she’d lost control of her mount again, Eugenia followed his lordship through a gate. They trotted the horses back to the stables.
Once in the stable yard, Lord Trentham dismounted and walked over to her. He held up his arms, and she leaned into him, breathing in his sandalwood soap. His grip tightened around her waist as he set her on her feet. “You heard me tell you to stop, did you not? You are a disobedient young woman, Eugenia,” he said, breathing heavily.
“I hope you haven’t reopened your wound, my lord.” Chewing her lip, she reached up to open his coat.
“Stop!” He grabbed her hand in his broad one. “Go and rid yourself of those outrageous clothes before my sister sees you,” he said in a stifled voice.
“Yes, Lord Trentham,” she said in a meek tone. She climbed the stairs to the groom’s room. At the top, she glanced down at his lordship. He’d removed his hat and was raking his fingers through his glossy dark brown hair.
“I am sorry,” she said again, when she came down dressed in her morning gown. “I do hope you’re all right. Perhaps you should not have cantered quite yet.”
Mr. Pollitt coughed and disappeared into the stable.
“I assure you, Eugenia, I’m perfectly capable of galloping and jumping a fence, should I wish to.” he said with a frown. “Come, let’s walk back to the house.”
They strolled along the carriage drive. “Are you eager to visit London?” he asked seemingly now in better humor.
“I confess I am a little nervous.”
“You have no reason to be. My sister and I will watch over you.”
She picked up the skirts of her fern-green gown and closed the distance between them to gaze up into his face. “Why are you taking me to Town?”
“Why?” He raised his eyebrows. “To restore you to your rightful place.”
“As a duke’s daughter?”
“I daresay you will meet your father. It’s up to him if he wishes to acknowledge you.”
She scowled. “He is not my father.”
He tucked a trailing strand of her hair behind her ear. “You are of his blood.”
“So you are returning me to him, like a lost parcel?”
“What?” His blue eyes grew serious. “No. Not at all, Eugenia. I hope you will forge your own life and be happy.”
She frowned. “But do you believe he’ll admit I’m his daughter? He will be ashamed of me.”
He sighed and rested his hands on her shoulders. “He would be a fool if he was. Look at you.” He studied her face with his enigmatic gaze for a long moment. Taking a step away he walked on.
She hurried to keep up with him.
He tapped his crop on his boot. “Eugenia, in this cruel, topsy-turvy world of ours, men don’t always claim their…”
“Bastards?”
“I dislike that term. It has no place in reference
“That’s good. Well done,” he called.
The path ahead was a long, straight run. Planning to rein her in at the end, Eugenia leaned forward and urged the horse into a canter. Grey Dreamer needed little persuasion. She took off like an arrow.
“Eugenia!” Lord Trentham called behind her. “Rein her in at once!”
“What did you say, my lord?” Some minutes later, where the trail curved to the right, Grey Dreamer lunged left, perhaps spooked at the sight of a squirrel running along a bow overhead. They emerged onto a sunlit meadow bordered by a low fence. As the horse showed no inclination to slow, Eugenia hung on. Grey Dreamer aimed straight for the fence and jumped, landing hard on her stocky legs and juddering Eugenia’s chin. Then the horse slowed, ambled across to a small stream, and lowered her head to drink. Eugenia turned around to watch Lord Trentham’s beautiful stallion take the jump far more gracefully. He rode up to her. “You will be responsible for my relapse, Eugenia.” he said sounding cross.
“Oh no, please don’t say it.” Filled with anxious remorse, while determined not to admit she’d lost control of her mount again, Eugenia followed his lordship through a gate. They trotted the horses back to the stables.
Once in the stable yard, Lord Trentham dismounted and walked over to her. He held up his arms, and she leaned into him, breathing in his sandalwood soap. His grip tightened around her waist as he set her on her feet. “You heard me tell you to stop, did you not? You are a disobedient young woman, Eugenia,” he said, breathing heavily.
“I hope you haven’t reopened your wound, my lord.” Chewing her lip, she reached up to open his coat.
“Stop!” He grabbed her hand in his broad one. “Go and rid yourself of those outrageous clothes before my sister sees you,” he said in a stifled voice.
“Yes, Lord Trentham,” she said in a meek tone. She climbed the stairs to the groom’s room. At the top, she glanced down at his lordship. He’d removed his hat and was raking his fingers through his glossy dark brown hair.
“I am sorry,” she said again, when she came down dressed in her morning gown. “I do hope you’re all right. Perhaps you should not have cantered quite yet.”
Mr. Pollitt coughed and disappeared into the stable.
“I assure you, Eugenia, I’m perfectly capable of galloping and jumping a fence, should I wish to.” he said with a frown. “Come, let’s walk back to the house.”
They strolled along the carriage drive. “Are you eager to visit London?” he asked seemingly now in better humor.
“I confess I am a little nervous.”
“You have no reason to be. My sister and I will watch over you.”
She picked up the skirts of her fern-green gown and closed the distance between them to gaze up into his face. “Why are you taking me to Town?”
“Why?” He raised his eyebrows. “To restore you to your rightful place.”
“As a duke’s daughter?”
“I daresay you will meet your father. It’s up to him if he wishes to acknowledge you.”
She scowled. “He is not my father.”
He tucked a trailing strand of her hair behind her ear. “You are of his blood.”
“So you are returning me to him, like a lost parcel?”
“What?” His blue eyes grew serious. “No. Not at all, Eugenia. I hope you will forge your own life and be happy.”
She frowned. “But do you believe he’ll admit I’m his daughter? He will be ashamed of me.”
He sighed and rested his hands on her shoulders. “He would be a fool if he was. Look at you.” He studied her face with his enigmatic gaze for a long moment. Taking a step away he walked on.
She hurried to keep up with him.
He tapped his crop on his boot. “Eugenia, in this cruel, topsy-turvy world of ours, men don’t always claim their…”
“Bastards?”
“I dislike that term. It has no place in reference
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