The Scot Who Made June Hot (THE RAKE REVIEW #6) by Fenna Edgewood EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Fenna Edgewood
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.6 MB
- Price: Free
Windermere Manor, June 1820
Summer had arrived. The sky was blue and bright sunshine streamed
down from overhead.
Lady June Fairchild sat on a window seat watching one of the
children from the Dower House play on the lawn below. They really
were beautiful children, she thought, as she ran the ivory comb through her
long yellow hair. With their mother’s dark coloring and charming smile,
how could they not be?
She looked at the sky again. The many days of rain seemed to have
abated. Perhaps it would be a beautiful summer after all.
A small flicker of hope was rising in her chest as she thought of the
season ahead, one filled with walks in the sun and… The door to her
chamber opened and then slammed shut.
Her husband. Only the earl would not bother to close the countess’s
door softly behind him.
He wished to announce his presence to her. To enter abruptly and with a
bang. It gave him pleasure to try to startle her in even a small way.
It took some self-restraint but she managed not to turn. Simply kept
running the comb through her hair.
“Where is your maid? Should you not be ready by now?” By the sound
of his voice, he was already annoyed. Something else must have gone
wrong and he had come here to take it out on her. Well, it would not be the
first time nor the last. A pause. “Is that what you’re wearing? Have you
nothing else?”
She made herself turn, slowly, to face him and smile reassuringly. “It is
only one o’clock, John.”
“And our guests are due to arrive by five and you must be there to greet
them,” he snapped.
She took a breath, trying for patience, fighting the urge to argue. It was
pointless with John. She had learned that long ago. Or if not pointless,
entirely unworth the pain and sorrow. And so she suppressed the instinct to
inform him that it did not take her longer than half an hour to dress and that
if he did not like the gown she had chosen, he might choose another or
perhaps blame himself, for many of her clothes were older and he had seen
them before. If he did not like this fact, he might increase her allowance.
But she knew it was dangerous to suggest this for the estate was all but
impoverished–and besides, she did not really give a fig about how many
dresses she had or how old they were. Only, John did. And he wanted her to
care, to be discontented–even though she could not do anything about it one
way or another.
“I will be ready,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “I promise you.”
“Dinner must go perfectly.” The Earl of Windermere looked at the pale
blue muslin frock hanging near the wardrobe and frowned. “I suppose it
will do.”
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