Read Online The Virgin of Clan Sinclair by Karen Ranney - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Ranney
Ads: Link
precipice.
What the hell did he do?
Sinclair was occupied with his wife or he’d deliver the pages to him, along with a friendly warning to watch Ellice. She was evidently involved in a great many lurid activities. How else would she be able to write about such things?
Nor did he want to deliver the pages to Ellice herself. She’d ask him if he’d read the book and he’d be forced to admit that his curiosity had been greater than his common sense.
Or Harvey could deliver the manuscript to Ellice, explaining that he’d found it in the compartment below the seat. That would be the best solution, one that would eliminate his involvement completely. She needn’t know he’d read the book.
She really must be encouraged to destroy what she’d written. Perhaps he could ask Harvey to suggest such a thing, along with a financial encouragement to do so. But how to do that without letting her know he’d read it?
Since he’d been so ensnared by her imagination that he hadn’t yet undressed for bed, he donned his shoes, threaded his hands through his hair, and set out for the stables and his coachman.
Chapter 6
E llice finished dressing hurriedly. She would never get a better chance to retrieve her manuscript and bustle than now.
Outside her door she saw two maids, both silently leaning against the wall. She walked up to them, whispering the question.
“How is she?”
The older of the two girls shook her head, biting her lips against words she didn’t say.
Ellice’s stomach twisted as she nodded in response. She deliberately blocked her imagination, unable to perceive of a world without Virginia. Life at Drumvagen wouldn’t be bearable without the woman she considered a sister.
She left them, heading toward the servants’ stairs and the back of the house. Three of the maids were sitting around the table, sipping at cups of tea. She sent them a commiserating smile and grabbed a shawl from a peg by the door, wrapping it around her head and over her shoulders.
A minute out the door she realized how foolish she’d been. By the time she made it to the stables, she was soaked through to her shift. She’d never experienced a storm like this at Drumvagen, hours and hours of intense rain, so heavy it felt like standing beneath a waterfall.
She opened one of the doors, grateful that the hinges were oiled often. Inside, it smelled of rain, damp hay, warm horses, and sodden wood.
Overhead, the storm was giving no signs of subsiding. Thunder rolled and roared and the rain continued. Did nature itself mourn for Virginia?
She said another quick prayer, wishing she could do more, just as she had in London when Virginia was sick with smallpox. All she’d been able to do then was keep reassuring the staff that Virginia would get well, that things would get back to normal and everything would eventually be fine.
Nothing ever did go back to normal, though, did it?
A faint yellow light illuminated the large space just inside the door. A stablehand sat on a chair, a watchman against fire and any other danger. Evidently he was exhausted from his day because he was asleep, his chin on his chest.
She tiptoed past him and down the center aisle. Only a few hours ago she’d been racing down this same corridor. This time she paused in front of one of her favorite mares, Lady Mary, and rubbed her face, the mare’s hooves pawing the ground in greeting.
She returned to Gadsden’s carriage, glad to see that there was no lantern or guard.
Those working at the stables slept above the stalls, on a second floor Macrath had expanded to include larger rooms for staff and visitors. No doubt the earl’s coachman was sleeping there.
She sluiced as much of the rain from her face and hair as she could, hoping she didn’t drip all over Gadsden’s carriage. She didn’t want anyone to know she was here.
After opening the door, she unfurled the steps, stood on the bottom one and reached over into the compartment, trying to forget the
What the hell did he do?
Sinclair was occupied with his wife or he’d deliver the pages to him, along with a friendly warning to watch Ellice. She was evidently involved in a great many lurid activities. How else would she be able to write about such things?
Nor did he want to deliver the pages to Ellice herself. She’d ask him if he’d read the book and he’d be forced to admit that his curiosity had been greater than his common sense.
Or Harvey could deliver the manuscript to Ellice, explaining that he’d found it in the compartment below the seat. That would be the best solution, one that would eliminate his involvement completely. She needn’t know he’d read the book.
She really must be encouraged to destroy what she’d written. Perhaps he could ask Harvey to suggest such a thing, along with a financial encouragement to do so. But how to do that without letting her know he’d read it?
Since he’d been so ensnared by her imagination that he hadn’t yet undressed for bed, he donned his shoes, threaded his hands through his hair, and set out for the stables and his coachman.
Chapter 6
E llice finished dressing hurriedly. She would never get a better chance to retrieve her manuscript and bustle than now.
Outside her door she saw two maids, both silently leaning against the wall. She walked up to them, whispering the question.
“How is she?”
The older of the two girls shook her head, biting her lips against words she didn’t say.
Ellice’s stomach twisted as she nodded in response. She deliberately blocked her imagination, unable to perceive of a world without Virginia. Life at Drumvagen wouldn’t be bearable without the woman she considered a sister.
She left them, heading toward the servants’ stairs and the back of the house. Three of the maids were sitting around the table, sipping at cups of tea. She sent them a commiserating smile and grabbed a shawl from a peg by the door, wrapping it around her head and over her shoulders.
A minute out the door she realized how foolish she’d been. By the time she made it to the stables, she was soaked through to her shift. She’d never experienced a storm like this at Drumvagen, hours and hours of intense rain, so heavy it felt like standing beneath a waterfall.
She opened one of the doors, grateful that the hinges were oiled often. Inside, it smelled of rain, damp hay, warm horses, and sodden wood.
Overhead, the storm was giving no signs of subsiding. Thunder rolled and roared and the rain continued. Did nature itself mourn for Virginia?
She said another quick prayer, wishing she could do more, just as she had in London when Virginia was sick with smallpox. All she’d been able to do then was keep reassuring the staff that Virginia would get well, that things would get back to normal and everything would eventually be fine.
Nothing ever did go back to normal, though, did it?
A faint yellow light illuminated the large space just inside the door. A stablehand sat on a chair, a watchman against fire and any other danger. Evidently he was exhausted from his day because he was asleep, his chin on his chest.
She tiptoed past him and down the center aisle. Only a few hours ago she’d been racing down this same corridor. This time she paused in front of one of her favorite mares, Lady Mary, and rubbed her face, the mare’s hooves pawing the ground in greeting.
She returned to Gadsden’s carriage, glad to see that there was no lantern or guard.
Those working at the stables slept above the stalls, on a second floor Macrath had expanded to include larger rooms for staff and visitors. No doubt the earl’s coachman was sleeping there.
She sluiced as much of the rain from her face and hair as she could, hoping she didn’t drip all over Gadsden’s carriage. She didn’t want anyone to know she was here.
After opening the door, she unfurled the steps, stood on the bottom one and reached over into the compartment, trying to forget the
Similar Books
