Mistress of Merrivale Read Online Free

bogs, yet it wasn’t today. For their arrival, Dartmoor was showing her finest.
    “I can’t see,” her mother complained.
    “Come and sit beside me,” Jocelyn said.
    They shuffled around the carriage interior until her mother could view the vista.
    “Pretty,” her mother said. “Are we there yet?”
    “It won’t take long now,” Tilly said in a firm voice.
    The hours passed and, after a brief stop for lunch and to change horses, they finally approached Merrivale Manor. Mature trees and extensive gardens surrounded a sprawling gray stone building, screening it from sight until the last minute. When the carriage came to a halt, several people hurried down the front steps of the manor.
    “Are we there yet?”
    “Yes.” Jocelyn wiped clammy hands on her skirts, nerves striking her afresh now that they’d arrived. Today her marriage would start in truth, and tonight, she’d share a bed with her new husband.
    The carriage door opened and Leo appeared. He extended a hand to her. “Welcome to Merrivale Manor.”
    Jocelyn inclined her head, cautious and hesitant, unaccountably shy in front of her husband. She stepped from the carriage and waited for her mother and Tilly to alight. “Ah, Woodley,” she said, spying her butler—posture erect and proper—amongst the somber servants. “How was your journey?”
    He inclined his head respectfully. “Very good, Mrs. Sherbourne. We arrived three days ago.”
    “And you’ve settled in well?”
    “Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.”
    Jocelyn nodded, the small talk settling the worst of her anxiety.
    “Let me introduce you to the staff,” Mr. Sherbourne said, placing her hand on the crook of his arm. His good looks dazzled her, stealing her breath as his dark gaze caressed her face. His focus dropped to her lips before his attention shifted to the waiting line of servants.
    Men often scrutinized her thus, as if they wanted to strip her clothes from her body and take their ease, and that was despite her unattractive red hair and freckles. A burst of heat crawled across her skin and part of her wished it was time to retire now. She’d spent her waking hours since their marriage pondering Mr. Sherbourne’s bedroom prowess. Would he hurry the act without regard to her pleasure? Or would he take his time, caressing and touching her until they both burned? Breathless, disturbed by her thoughts, Jocelyn swallowed rapidly, seeking distraction.
    Ah, yes. The servants.
    She scanned their faces and caught a glower from one of the maids, apparently aimed at Mr. Sherbourne. The rest of the faces were expressionless, absent of welcome, and that raised her curiosity. Did they not like their master? Fear him for some reason?
    “This is Mrs. Green, the housekeeper.” After a brief greeting to the stony-faced woman, Mr. Sherbourne led her down the line of staff, introducing her to the remaining maids and footmen without hesitation. He mentioned their families, his cool charm seeming to set the servants at ease.
    Jocelyn inclined her head and murmured a small greeting to each servant, impressed with her husband’s knowledge of his staff. The tension lifted from her shoulders. This wasn’t a ruthless master. They were likely apprehensive about meeting a new mistress.
    “Mrs. Green, will you show Mrs. Sherbourne’s mother to her room?”
    “Of course.” The housekeeper led her mother and Tilly away, and the servants dispersed, leaving Jocelyn alone with Mr. Sherbourne.
    “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his husky voice stirring her again. A tremor swept her, leaving a tingling awareness in its path. “Let me show you to your chamber.”
    She strolled up the steps into the entrance hall at his side. Flagstones covered the floor, her shoes tapping the surface as they progressed deeper into the manor. Mr. Sherbourne led her to a flight of stairs and together, they ascended to the next floor.
    “When will I meet your daughter?”
    “Cassandra has a nap at this time of the day,” he