The Abduction of an Earl (THE LORDS OF THE ARISTOCRACY #1) by Linda Rae Sande EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Linda Rae Sande
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
A LADY SUFFERS A SURPRISE
April 1815, Weatherstone Manor, Mayfair
The last strains of the orchestra’s final selection reached
Persephone’s ears when the dowager countess spotted her town coach and
waved at the driver. He had managed to position her equipage in a most
convenient location in the queue of other vehicles awaiting their owners in
front of Weatherstone Manor, the Mayfair location known for always
hosting the first ball of the Season.
Parker tipped his hat as he opened the coach door. “My lady,” he said,
offering his gloved hand in assistance.
“You know me too well if you’ve timed your arrival for this very
moment,” Persephone commented as she placed a silk-gloved hand in his
and took the step up and into the velvet-lined coach.
“I never left, my lady,” he replied. “Nice night to watch the stars.” He
closed the door before his mistress could reply and then bounded up and
onto the driver’s seat. A moment later, and the coach pulled away from the
pavement.
Persephone settled into the blue velvet squabs and sighed in relief as she
extracted her feet from her dance slippers. Wiggling her toes, she had a
thought to simply leave her shoes off when it was time to make her way
into March House. Who would notice if she entered the townhouse
barefoot?
In the middle of taking a deep breath, she stopped and sniffed. The air
inside the coach bore an unfamiliar scent. A cologne unlike anything her
late husband had worn. Walter’s usual parfum brought to mind leather and
musk, a rather manly odor for a gentleman who wasn’t.
This cologne was spicy. Citrusy. She sniffed again and then gave a start
when the sound of a snore suddenly filled the coach.
“Who’s there?” she asked in alarm as she straightened on the bench.
A snuffle-snort was followed by a moan and a groan and a “bloody
hell”.
Stuffing her feet back into her dance slippers, she pressed herself as far
into the corner of the coach as she could. “I say again, who is there?” she
asked, managing to sound more annoyed than frightened.
“Where the hell am I?” a male voice asked from the other side of the
coach. From the way the prone form moved—a long lump rising on one
side—Persephone realized the man had been sleeping and was now propped
up on an elbow. She reached over to the window curtain and drew it back so
the light from the coach lantern illuminated the interior.
“Ack!” the man complained as he lifted a hand to shield his face from
the sudden glare.
Persephone gasped. “Lord… Lord Wilmington? Is that you?” She
dropped the curtain, but the gathered panel remained parted enough to
allow some light into the coach.
Another moan and groan sounded as he moved to sit up, although his
head ended up in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. “If I am, you
have my permission to shoot me. Put me out of my misery,” he whispered
hoarsely. The coach jerked hard when the wheel dipped into a hole left from
a missing cobble, and he barked a curse.
“Lord Wilmington?” she repeated.
For More Read Download This Book
EPUB