Read Online The Heart Denied by Linda Anne Wulf - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Linda Anne Wulf
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conscience--"with indictments," he finished, snapping his mouth shut.
"I consented." Despite her flaming cheeks, she spoke with no shame. "I have not been with him since. I did try to speak with him, but that made him angry. It seems I was mere diversion, despite his endless attempts to woo me and his hints at marriage." She swiped at a fresh tear with the balled handkerchief in her fist. "Begging your pardon, M'lord, I was a fool, and I've no right to self-pity, much less to indulge it in your presence. By your leave, I shall get on with my duties now."
"In a moment, Combs. I'd be remiss in my own duty to let this go unsaid." Thorne rounded the desk and perched on its edge. "Hobbs," he said grimly, "has a reputation for breaking hearts and maidenheads from Northampton to London and back again. Several times over." There, that was turning the knife, but Combs didn't flinch. Thorne paused, unnerved by her guileless gaze, then made his voice brusque. "Nonetheless, Hobbs is a top-notch stableman, the creme de la creme of horsemen. I cannot afford to lose him."
Nodding, Combs looked away.
"However, I shall speak with him."
Her eyes flew to him and widened. "No, M'lord, you mustn't, I...I cannot ask that of you."
"You didn't ask. Humor me, Combs. I've my own reasons for wishing to talk to Hobbs. You may go now."
She rose from the chair and curtsied. "I shall fetch another tray, M'lord. Your breakfast is cold, thanks to me."
"I didn't ring for breakfast, Combs. And 'twas I who detained you." He sat down behind the desk. "Bring it, then. Try not to sneak by me this time."
"Yes, M'lord."
Glimpsing a smile as she turned to go, Thorne regretted having to ask one more question. "What has Dame Carswell to say of your situation?"
Combs turned to him, her smile faltering. "She says, M'lord, that if I am enceinte , I shall have to seek employment elsewhere."
Thorne observed the maid silently for a moment, then said, "We shall see about that."
* * *
"Murdered?" Thorne echoed in disbelief. "Tom Barker had a way of offending, but I can't say he deserved strangling, at least not to the death."
"Whoever killed him didn't profit," Arthur said. "He was bellyaching over his empty purse when he left Duncan's that night."
"Tom's mates knew his well only ran dry when the coin ran out. So if robbery was the intent, 'twas likely a stranger. Has Smythe sent for the constable?"
Arthur nodded.
"And our vigils?"
"Ongoing, 'til last night. The mists were so bloody thick a score of lanterns would have been of no use. I trust you enjoyed your stay in London?"
Thorne's gaze fell to his paperwork. "'Twas pleasant enough. Radleigh and Gwynneth will arrive in a fortnight or so. I understand preparations are already underway." He raised his eyes inquiringly.
"Aye." Arthur looked chagrined. "Bridey and Carswell are nearing full tilt."
Thorne chuckled. "Never mind, they'll see it through to the finish, and things will be all the better for their scrapping."
* * *
Hobbs' ropy sinew rippled with each stroke of the curry brush. "He's a fine animal," he said without looking up. "As partial as I am to Bartholomew, this one nigh puts him to shame."
Raven stood unmoved by the praise except for an impatient swipe of his tail, his coat glistening blue-black in a shaft of sunlight.
"Put to it, I'd have to agree," Thorne said, glancing at the big red gelding, his father's favorite. He watched Hobbs at work for a few more minutes, then broke the awkward silence. "I've spoken this morn with one of the maids. Combs by name."
Hobbs' hesitation was barely noticeable as he knelt to brush Raven's foreleg. "And why should that interest me, M'lord?"
"Only because it seems she's with child, and you are the father."
Hobbs turned, amber eyes narrowing. "Never one to mince words, were you, M'lord." He tossed the curry brush into a pail of soapy water. "She'll have to prove it to me," he flung over his shoulder. "If she can." He led Raven to his
"I consented." Despite her flaming cheeks, she spoke with no shame. "I have not been with him since. I did try to speak with him, but that made him angry. It seems I was mere diversion, despite his endless attempts to woo me and his hints at marriage." She swiped at a fresh tear with the balled handkerchief in her fist. "Begging your pardon, M'lord, I was a fool, and I've no right to self-pity, much less to indulge it in your presence. By your leave, I shall get on with my duties now."
"In a moment, Combs. I'd be remiss in my own duty to let this go unsaid." Thorne rounded the desk and perched on its edge. "Hobbs," he said grimly, "has a reputation for breaking hearts and maidenheads from Northampton to London and back again. Several times over." There, that was turning the knife, but Combs didn't flinch. Thorne paused, unnerved by her guileless gaze, then made his voice brusque. "Nonetheless, Hobbs is a top-notch stableman, the creme de la creme of horsemen. I cannot afford to lose him."
Nodding, Combs looked away.
"However, I shall speak with him."
Her eyes flew to him and widened. "No, M'lord, you mustn't, I...I cannot ask that of you."
"You didn't ask. Humor me, Combs. I've my own reasons for wishing to talk to Hobbs. You may go now."
She rose from the chair and curtsied. "I shall fetch another tray, M'lord. Your breakfast is cold, thanks to me."
"I didn't ring for breakfast, Combs. And 'twas I who detained you." He sat down behind the desk. "Bring it, then. Try not to sneak by me this time."
"Yes, M'lord."
Glimpsing a smile as she turned to go, Thorne regretted having to ask one more question. "What has Dame Carswell to say of your situation?"
Combs turned to him, her smile faltering. "She says, M'lord, that if I am enceinte , I shall have to seek employment elsewhere."
Thorne observed the maid silently for a moment, then said, "We shall see about that."
* * *
"Murdered?" Thorne echoed in disbelief. "Tom Barker had a way of offending, but I can't say he deserved strangling, at least not to the death."
"Whoever killed him didn't profit," Arthur said. "He was bellyaching over his empty purse when he left Duncan's that night."
"Tom's mates knew his well only ran dry when the coin ran out. So if robbery was the intent, 'twas likely a stranger. Has Smythe sent for the constable?"
Arthur nodded.
"And our vigils?"
"Ongoing, 'til last night. The mists were so bloody thick a score of lanterns would have been of no use. I trust you enjoyed your stay in London?"
Thorne's gaze fell to his paperwork. "'Twas pleasant enough. Radleigh and Gwynneth will arrive in a fortnight or so. I understand preparations are already underway." He raised his eyes inquiringly.
"Aye." Arthur looked chagrined. "Bridey and Carswell are nearing full tilt."
Thorne chuckled. "Never mind, they'll see it through to the finish, and things will be all the better for their scrapping."
* * *
Hobbs' ropy sinew rippled with each stroke of the curry brush. "He's a fine animal," he said without looking up. "As partial as I am to Bartholomew, this one nigh puts him to shame."
Raven stood unmoved by the praise except for an impatient swipe of his tail, his coat glistening blue-black in a shaft of sunlight.
"Put to it, I'd have to agree," Thorne said, glancing at the big red gelding, his father's favorite. He watched Hobbs at work for a few more minutes, then broke the awkward silence. "I've spoken this morn with one of the maids. Combs by name."
Hobbs' hesitation was barely noticeable as he knelt to brush Raven's foreleg. "And why should that interest me, M'lord?"
"Only because it seems she's with child, and you are the father."
Hobbs turned, amber eyes narrowing. "Never one to mince words, were you, M'lord." He tossed the curry brush into a pail of soapy water. "She'll have to prove it to me," he flung over his shoulder. "If she can." He led Raven to his
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