Read Online What You Deserve (Anything for Love, Book 3) by Adele Clee - Free Book Online
Authors: Adele Clee
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seat next to her, threw it roughly around her shoulders before jumping down to the ground.
Mud oozed around her ankles, and she thanked the Lord she’d worn her sturdy boots.
“Give me your hand. You’ll have to sit in front of me.” Tristan leant down, wrapped his gloved hand around her forearm and hoisted her up to sit sideways. “Lean into me. Put one arm about my waist.” He turned his attention to Dawes. “We’ll send someone to you as soon as we reach Highley Grange.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You should wait inside the carriage, Dawes,” she said feeling a pang of guilt for leaving the poor man behind in such treacherous conditions.
Dawes straightened the collar of his greatcoat and shrank down into its depths. “I’ll stay with the horses, my lady, but I thank you all the same.”
A loud clap of thunder roared through the heavens.
“We must go.” Tristan urged his horse forward and soon they were cantering along the road.
The wind whipped about them. She gripped onto him with all the strength she could muster. As the rain hit her face with the force of hail stones, she pressed her cheek to Tristan’s chest. It didn’t matter that his coat was sodden. Somehow it still felt warm and comforting.
They came to the crossroads where the stone memorial stood proudly on the grassy mound. “It’s left here, and just a minute or so more.”
Another boom of thunder crashed through the sky.
Water dripped from his hat onto her cheek. The droplets trickled down her neck, but still she huddled into him as they continued their journey.
“We’re here,” Tristan eventually said, his weary sigh breezing over her face as she looked up into his brilliant blue eyes. “Thankfully, the gates are open. My legs feel so numb I doubt I’ll be able to climb down.”
She had no desire to move. “You’ll need a hot bath to ease your stiff muscles,” she replied wishing they had another hundred miles to travel.
They rode up the long curved drive, designed specifically to give the impression that the surrounding land appeared far more extensive than it was in reality.
No one came to greet them.
They stopped in front of the iron-studded door. Tristan held her arm as she slid down to the ground. “Go inside where it is warm and dry. Where will I find the stables?”
“Follow the path round to the left.” She shivered as she wiped the running rivulets from her face. Had the damp air finally penetrated or did the coldness she felt stem from the loss of Tristan’s touch. “I’ll ask Mrs. Birch to heat some water so you may bathe.”
An image of them sharing the large metal tub flashed into her mind, but she shook it away along with the drops of rain clinging to her cloak.
“Go inside,” he repeated. “I’ll join you shortly.”
Isabella did as Tristan asked. The front door was unlocked. She strode through the hall, leaving muddy footprints in her wake. Sedgewick was nowhere to be seen. Due to her last minute decision to return, she had not had an opportunity to send word to her staff.
Following the sound of lively chatter, she made her way to the drawing room to find Mrs. Birch, Sedgewick, the chambermaid and the footman seated around the card table. She stood in the doorway, water dripping onto the polished wooden floor, and watched with interest.
“You’ve pulled that one out from your sleeve,” the footman grumbled. “There are only four kings in a pack, and we’ve played them all.”
“Are you accusing me of cheating?” Sedgewick said in his usual lofty tone as he raised his chin. “Is that any way to speak to a superior?”
“We’ve played three,” Molly said.
“How would you know?” the footman countered. “You’ve nodded off twice. There’s only one way to know for sure.”
“You’ve more than likely miscounted.” Mrs. Birch slapped his hand away from the pile of cards in the centre of the table. “Have you been at my lady’s sherry again?”
Isabella stepped into the
Mud oozed around her ankles, and she thanked the Lord she’d worn her sturdy boots.
“Give me your hand. You’ll have to sit in front of me.” Tristan leant down, wrapped his gloved hand around her forearm and hoisted her up to sit sideways. “Lean into me. Put one arm about my waist.” He turned his attention to Dawes. “We’ll send someone to you as soon as we reach Highley Grange.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You should wait inside the carriage, Dawes,” she said feeling a pang of guilt for leaving the poor man behind in such treacherous conditions.
Dawes straightened the collar of his greatcoat and shrank down into its depths. “I’ll stay with the horses, my lady, but I thank you all the same.”
A loud clap of thunder roared through the heavens.
“We must go.” Tristan urged his horse forward and soon they were cantering along the road.
The wind whipped about them. She gripped onto him with all the strength she could muster. As the rain hit her face with the force of hail stones, she pressed her cheek to Tristan’s chest. It didn’t matter that his coat was sodden. Somehow it still felt warm and comforting.
They came to the crossroads where the stone memorial stood proudly on the grassy mound. “It’s left here, and just a minute or so more.”
Another boom of thunder crashed through the sky.
Water dripped from his hat onto her cheek. The droplets trickled down her neck, but still she huddled into him as they continued their journey.
“We’re here,” Tristan eventually said, his weary sigh breezing over her face as she looked up into his brilliant blue eyes. “Thankfully, the gates are open. My legs feel so numb I doubt I’ll be able to climb down.”
She had no desire to move. “You’ll need a hot bath to ease your stiff muscles,” she replied wishing they had another hundred miles to travel.
They rode up the long curved drive, designed specifically to give the impression that the surrounding land appeared far more extensive than it was in reality.
No one came to greet them.
They stopped in front of the iron-studded door. Tristan held her arm as she slid down to the ground. “Go inside where it is warm and dry. Where will I find the stables?”
“Follow the path round to the left.” She shivered as she wiped the running rivulets from her face. Had the damp air finally penetrated or did the coldness she felt stem from the loss of Tristan’s touch. “I’ll ask Mrs. Birch to heat some water so you may bathe.”
An image of them sharing the large metal tub flashed into her mind, but she shook it away along with the drops of rain clinging to her cloak.
“Go inside,” he repeated. “I’ll join you shortly.”
Isabella did as Tristan asked. The front door was unlocked. She strode through the hall, leaving muddy footprints in her wake. Sedgewick was nowhere to be seen. Due to her last minute decision to return, she had not had an opportunity to send word to her staff.
Following the sound of lively chatter, she made her way to the drawing room to find Mrs. Birch, Sedgewick, the chambermaid and the footman seated around the card table. She stood in the doorway, water dripping onto the polished wooden floor, and watched with interest.
“You’ve pulled that one out from your sleeve,” the footman grumbled. “There are only four kings in a pack, and we’ve played them all.”
“Are you accusing me of cheating?” Sedgewick said in his usual lofty tone as he raised his chin. “Is that any way to speak to a superior?”
“We’ve played three,” Molly said.
“How would you know?” the footman countered. “You’ve nodded off twice. There’s only one way to know for sure.”
“You’ve more than likely miscounted.” Mrs. Birch slapped his hand away from the pile of cards in the centre of the table. “Have you been at my lady’s sherry again?”
Isabella stepped into the
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