Lord Harry's Folly by Catherine Coulter (read this if .txt) 📕

at me, I will grant you the opportunity without interruption. Do forgive me, Jason, please.”

“Yes, I damned well want to yell at you and shake you and kiss you until you’re senseless. Bloody hell, I’ve been frantic with worry. Everything went wrong. I went to Belshire Manor, then on to Jack’s house in Herefordshire. I prayed, by God, I’ve turned into a Methodist this past week.”

Then he opened his arms to her. She covered the distance between them on a dead run. He pulled her roughly to his chest, burying his face in her hair. He tightened his hold about her back, as if afraid she’d disappear.

“I’m truly sorry, Jason,” she whispered, raising her head from his shoulder to gaze into his dark eyes. “Pottson told me where you’d gone. Lord Harry thought for a while to set out after you, but I decided it ridiculous for both of us to be riding the roads of England. Please forgive me for being so foolish. It’s just that I didn’t know what to do. There was just too much and I couldn’t seem to sort through it all. All I could think about was Thurston Hall and you.”

He thought fleetingly to inquire just how the devil she’d spoken to Pottson, but he wanted to kiss her her mouth, her stubborn jaw, the tip of her nose. He wanted to inhale her scent, to kiss her soft hair, to mold his hands around her breasts. God, if something had happened to her

“Do you forgive me, Jason?”

She didn’t let him answer, but stood on her tiptoes. As his mouth closed over hers, feather light, she felt his hands stroking up and down her back, cupping her to bring her hard against him. She loved the feel of him, the differentness of him. She loved him. It was some moments before he drew back and looked down at her. There was a dark, dreamy quality in her eyes he’d never before seen. Tenderly, he kissed the tip of her nose, her chin, the soft curls at her temples. The weariness and concern that he had worn like a heavy mantle slipped from him, and he gave a shout of pure joy.

She giggled. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“It means that I’m so grateful I’ll be pure of heart for the rest of my years on this earth.”

“Will you promise me something, your grace?”

“I shout with joy that you’re all right, and you have the gall to call me ‘your grace’?”

“It’s about marrying me. Promise me that if you have any doubts, if it bothers you what my father did, that you won’t go through with it. I don’t ever want you to think I trapped you into marriage like Elizabeth.”

“Shut up.”

He kissed her, this time, his hand stroking from her breasts down to her belly until he was resting his hand against her, feeling the heat of her through her gown. He hoped she felt the heat of his hand.

“If you ever again compare yourself to Elizabeth, I’ll thrash you. I mean it, Hetty. You aren’t Elizabeth. What your father did, both of us will have to come to understanding about it, and we will. I am sorry for it, for the pain it’s giving you. But we shall marry just as soon as I can procure a special license.”

“All right,” she said, gave him a fat smile, then fell to kissing him again. He was nibbling on her ear when she said, “Oh goodness, you’re exhausted, you must be ready to eat a horse and have a hot bath. Shall I ring for Croft?”

“No. The sot is in the cellar drinking my sherry. I should have booted him out years ago, but dammit, he’s been here since I was born.”

She kissed him again, then said, “When dear Croft wasn’t foxed, he treated me in the most suspicious manner. I swear he thinks me one of your mistresses.”

“He’s in for a surprise, isn’t he? Yes, I can’t wait to see him sneaking the champagne from our wedding breakfast. Now, before I take myself off for a bath, when did you see Pottson? He came to me, you know, panting that you’d skuttled the pike. He was the one who sent me to Belshire Manor.”

“I did pack a portmanteau and buy a stage ticket to Sussex. But early the next morning I realized there was nothing there for me at Belshire Manor. I couldn’t bring myself to return to Father’s house, so I paid a final visit to Lord Harry’s lodgings and sent Pottson with a note to my father explaining that I’d accepted an invitation from Lady Alicia to again visit Thurston Hall. Pottson thought it a rather clever idea, though he felt terribly guilty that he’d sent you to the far reaches of England.”

“You have a lot to make up to me for, Hetty.”

“That sounds a bit alarming but ever so much fun.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, as he kissed her again and forced himself away from her.

“Is Lord Harry finally content to return to the wilds that disgorged him?”

He saw the wistfulness in her eyes, heard the reluctance in her voice when she said, “I guess there’s no choice. He has to disappear. I’ll miss him, Jason. He was so free. He could do anything he wished. He shot at Manton’s. He held the faro bank at White’s, where he was a member. He drank as much as he wanted. He went to a brothel. Henrietta Rolland could never do any of that.”

“Henrietta Cavander.”

“Even a female Cavander wouldn’t be welcome at White’s or at Manton’s, or at Gentleman Jackson’s or at Lady Buxtell’s”

“Please stop, you’re making my hair curl even as it turns gray. Will you make these sacrifices for me, Hetty?”

“It will be difficult, Jason.”

“I’m giving up Melissande.”

“Thank you,” she said in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard from her, then she sent her fist into his belly.

He grunted, then grinned down at her. “Poor Melissande, she’s losing both Lord Oberlon and