The Apple Blossom Bower (Historical Romance Novella) Read Online Free

ones she most wanted to hear.
    “I’ve set Mr. Corston straight about who you are. But I’m at a loss to explain precisely why you were serving customers tonight.”
    “The staff was shorthanded, and I wanted to help.” She’d had another reason, and dared not tell him. If she mentioned her stepfather, whose authority she’d so recklessly defied, Sir Edwin might seek him out and expose her misdemeanor. “Do you disapprove?” she asked him, her voice as frosty as she could make it.
    “I do,” he said curtly, almost angrily. “So would Squire Dundridge.”
    Although she’d already lowered herself in his estimation, her pride would not let her plead for mercy. “My mother was doing exactly what I did tonight when she met him.”
    He folded his arms across his broad chest and regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Exactly what sort of husband do you seek, Miss Kelland?”
    A wave of anguish crashed over her, leaving her speechless. More than she’d wanted anything in all her life, she wanted him. No other man was as handsome and clever and strong and passionate as the one who stood before her.
    Correctly guessing that his question wouldn’t get an answer, he commented, “Mrs. Russell meant for you to have this room, didn’t she? Where will you sleep?”
    “I’m sharing the cook maid’s bed.”
    “I wish you might share mine.”
    A wanton, that’s what she was to him. In a tone more sorrowful than saucy, she said, “You are too bold, Sir Edwin.”
    “It wasn’t an invitation,” he said defensively. “I merely said I wished it. Lest you have any doubts, that’s a compliment to you, not an insult. There’s no cause to treat me as you did my drunken friend.”
      Half afraid he might say something even more alarming—and gratifying—Annis wished him goodnight and sped along dimly lit passage. When she glanced over her shoulder, his yearning face caused her heart to pound so violently that she placed her hand against her chest as if to keep it safely in place.
    * * *
     
     

 
    ~ Chapter 2 ~
     
     
    A shot shattered the morning stillness. With an explosion of breaking glass, the bullet struck one of several wine bottles arranged atop a low stone wall.
    Glancing down at the old-fashioned dueling pistol cradled in his hand, Edwin wondered what his gruff great-uncle would have thought of his skill. The old gentleman had been a superior marksman.
    “Well done,” Garth Corston commented, not without envy. He’d not yet hit any of the targets. He lifted his arm, his finger pulled on the trigger, and with the report a blast of fire and smoke issued from the barrel. But the row of bottles stood undisturbed.
    “Damn,” he muttered.
    For nearly an hour they’d competed, strive to fire, reload and fire again with speed and accuracy. Both were unshaven and carelessly dressed.
    Garth was an awfully bad influence, Edwin acknowledged, raising his pistol. Not once during the past two days had they gone riding. They hadn’t done much of anything besides drink and dine and play cards. And waste lead shot and powder. Despite having company at Harbourne Court, he felt lonelier than ever.
    It was female society he craved—a particular female. But his recent encounter with Annis Kelland had unsettled him, and his chances of softening her seemed depressingly remote.
    He’d known Garth since their days at Eton. Their paths had diverged after leaving school, only to cross in London some years later at the height of the social season. Discovering that the easy camaraderie of their boyhood had survived, they’d sampled the delights and tested the dangers of the Metropolis together. Edwin, a regular visitor to the Corston house, embarked upon an intense but short-lived flirtation with Garth’s sister, Elizabeth. Simultaneously realizing that her parents had certain expectations he was reluctant to fulfill, and that in fact he had no desire to marry her, he’d decamped from London with all possible haste.
    He’d