Read Online To Love a Lord by Christi Caldwell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christi Caldwell
Ads: Link
packing this one up in a carriage, any carriage, closing the door, and having her ride off to Mrs. Belden’s where she belonged.
The color deepened on her cheeks. “Joseph indicated I might visit the library. I…” Her words trailed off. “Forgive me. I will take my leave.” She turned to go.
“Mrs. Munroe?” The quietly spoken words halted her retreat. She stiffened and turned back.
“My lord?” She darted the tip of her tongue out and traced the seam of her bow-shaped lips.
He followed that innocent, yet maddeningly erotic gesture. An agonized groan built in his chest. God help him, he was noticing plain, drab-skirt-wearing Mrs. Munroe.
“Of course you may use the library, or any other room, for as long you are here.”
“Thank you,” she murmured and dropped a curtsy, heightening the awareness of the station difference between them.
Gabriel studied her, this contradictory creature. One moment, hissing and snapping like a cornered cat in the kitchens, the next shy and hesitant. Having lived his life erecting barriers, he recognized Mrs. Munroe—the woman without a Christian name had crafted a carefully constructed facade. “How did you come to be an instructor at Mrs. Belden’s?” It was hard to say who was the more shocked by his unexpected inquiry—he or Mrs. Munroe with her gaping mouth.
She wet her lips and cast a quick glance about. “I’d venture the way any woman comes to find herself in such a post.”
The deliberate vagueness of her response didn’t escape his notice. It did, however, rouse his curiosity. “And how is that?” he asked the question of a genuine desire to know, even as he could not sort why it mattered that he knew—just that it did.
Mrs. Munroe scoffed. “I thought you didn’t care?”
He cocked his head and a frown formed on his lips. The woman possessed a deep cynicism for one so young.
She waved a hand about. “Oh, come,” she said. “Surely you’ll not feign any concern on my account, my lord.”
Gabriel folded his arms at his chest and winged an eyebrow upward. “I assure you, Mrs. Munroe, I do not feign interest on anyone’s account.”
“It is, as you said,” she lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “I am not your concern. After all, you’ve given me a letter and sent me on my way. My position with Mrs. Belden is secure and your obligation is concluded.”
Those words casually tossed out to his butler, and overheard by this woman, roused guilt in his chest. How must Mrs. Munroe have perceived those words? He’d spent the course of his life caring for, nay worrying about, the survival of his siblings and mother. “I meant no insult,” he said at last. However, there was no room within the deliberately small circle of those dependent upon him for anyone else’s happiness. But how should that truth appear to this woman?
She tipped her chin up at the mutinous angle he’d learned upon meeting her meant she prepared for verbal battle. “There was no insult there, my lord. There was a lack of feeling. Regard. Decency.”
“On what do you base your charge?” That terse question silenced her. Tired of her allegations that would paint him as a self-absorbed nobleman who cared about no one, he took a step toward her, and Mrs. Munroe retreated. “You would cast aspersions upon my character and for what? Because I met you, interviewed you, and found you wholly unsuitable to care for my sister?” He continued walking and with each movement, she backed away. Did she believe he intended her harm? At that truth, fury roiled all the deeper within his gut for altogether different reasons than the unfavorable opinion she’d developed of him. He abruptly stopped. “Should I have placed your pride in your capabilities as a companion above all else? Including that of my own sister’s needs and interests?” A mere handbreadth separated them and he expected her to retreat.
Instead, she remained rooted to the floor, her chest heaving. With fear?
The color deepened on her cheeks. “Joseph indicated I might visit the library. I…” Her words trailed off. “Forgive me. I will take my leave.” She turned to go.
“Mrs. Munroe?” The quietly spoken words halted her retreat. She stiffened and turned back.
“My lord?” She darted the tip of her tongue out and traced the seam of her bow-shaped lips.
He followed that innocent, yet maddeningly erotic gesture. An agonized groan built in his chest. God help him, he was noticing plain, drab-skirt-wearing Mrs. Munroe.
“Of course you may use the library, or any other room, for as long you are here.”
“Thank you,” she murmured and dropped a curtsy, heightening the awareness of the station difference between them.
Gabriel studied her, this contradictory creature. One moment, hissing and snapping like a cornered cat in the kitchens, the next shy and hesitant. Having lived his life erecting barriers, he recognized Mrs. Munroe—the woman without a Christian name had crafted a carefully constructed facade. “How did you come to be an instructor at Mrs. Belden’s?” It was hard to say who was the more shocked by his unexpected inquiry—he or Mrs. Munroe with her gaping mouth.
She wet her lips and cast a quick glance about. “I’d venture the way any woman comes to find herself in such a post.”
The deliberate vagueness of her response didn’t escape his notice. It did, however, rouse his curiosity. “And how is that?” he asked the question of a genuine desire to know, even as he could not sort why it mattered that he knew—just that it did.
Mrs. Munroe scoffed. “I thought you didn’t care?”
He cocked his head and a frown formed on his lips. The woman possessed a deep cynicism for one so young.
She waved a hand about. “Oh, come,” she said. “Surely you’ll not feign any concern on my account, my lord.”
Gabriel folded his arms at his chest and winged an eyebrow upward. “I assure you, Mrs. Munroe, I do not feign interest on anyone’s account.”
“It is, as you said,” she lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “I am not your concern. After all, you’ve given me a letter and sent me on my way. My position with Mrs. Belden is secure and your obligation is concluded.”
Those words casually tossed out to his butler, and overheard by this woman, roused guilt in his chest. How must Mrs. Munroe have perceived those words? He’d spent the course of his life caring for, nay worrying about, the survival of his siblings and mother. “I meant no insult,” he said at last. However, there was no room within the deliberately small circle of those dependent upon him for anyone else’s happiness. But how should that truth appear to this woman?
She tipped her chin up at the mutinous angle he’d learned upon meeting her meant she prepared for verbal battle. “There was no insult there, my lord. There was a lack of feeling. Regard. Decency.”
“On what do you base your charge?” That terse question silenced her. Tired of her allegations that would paint him as a self-absorbed nobleman who cared about no one, he took a step toward her, and Mrs. Munroe retreated. “You would cast aspersions upon my character and for what? Because I met you, interviewed you, and found you wholly unsuitable to care for my sister?” He continued walking and with each movement, she backed away. Did she believe he intended her harm? At that truth, fury roiled all the deeper within his gut for altogether different reasons than the unfavorable opinion she’d developed of him. He abruptly stopped. “Should I have placed your pride in your capabilities as a companion above all else? Including that of my own sister’s needs and interests?” A mere handbreadth separated them and he expected her to retreat.
Instead, she remained rooted to the floor, her chest heaving. With fear?
Similar Books
