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The standish inheritancebyLouisa GrayDID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?If you did, you should be aware it is stolen property as it wasreported as sold and destroyed by a retailer. Neither the Author northe publisher has received any payment for this book.All the characters in this book have no existence outside theimagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyoneben ring the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspiredby any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidentsare pure invention.All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole ar inpart in any form. This edition is publlshed by arrangement withHarlequin Enterprises II B. V. The text of this publication or any partthereof may not be reproduced or nansmitted in any form or by anymeans, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without thewritten permission of the publisher.This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way oftrade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulatedwithout the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding orcover other than that in which it is published and without a similarcondition in eluding this condition being imposed on the subsequentpurchaser.MILLS & BOON, the Rose Device and LEGACY OF LOVE are trademarks of thepublisher.Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited, Eton House,18-24 Paradise Road,Richmond, Surrey TW91SR(C) Louisa GraySet in 1O on l2 pt Linotron TimesTypeset in Great Britain by CentraCet, CambridgePrinted in Gnat Britain by BPC Papebacks LtdAUTHOR'S NOTEBecause this story is set firmly in Somerset, it needs to be said thatthe settings, Somerton Prior and Somerton Parva, do not exist, and havenothing whatsoever to do with the actual town of Somerton.Everything-and everybody-are entirely imaginary (except two lawlessmongrels). And maybe the hero-which is why this book is for:The Clan in memory of Grandpa AlessandroCHAPTER ONE"Are you my father?"Until Freddie flew past her, alight with excitement, his voice recklesswith hope, Luciana had not known the man was there. Lost in thewarmth, the security of this summer afternoon, cool in the shadow ofthe ancient trees, she had been dreaming. Of nothing in particular,just the pleasure of it all as the boys clattered and splashed andfought their way upstream, makeshift nets trailing in the water, theirattendant groom yelling after them that they would terrify every lastfish out of the county the noise that they were making. The boysignored what they didn't deride, up to their sodden knees in weeds andtwine, fierce with concentration, while Cass and Polly did whatmongrels did best and made a spectacular nuisance of themselves amongstthe rushes.Luciana trailed her feet in the water, soothed by its gentle ftow,remembering two other boys, so long ago, playing where hers played now,while she watched, directing operations from this very place beneathher favourite willow. Remembered, too, that Freddie had been conceivedhere... Remembered all she longed so helplessly to forget.Yet the stab of toss, always new, always brutal, did not spoil theday."Freddie, please don't drown your brother; I am oddly fond of him. AndCarlo, not in your pocket if you don't mind.. no, I don't care, itwriggled, that's all I need to know, put it back where it came from.And when you've done that-oh, Polly!"The once silken mongrel shook its dripping red coat all over her-peoplesitting on rugs were themselves for sitting on to Polly's mind.Not-Luciana wrestled him off-that this latest damage could make muchdifference now. Her muslins were stark devastation. Hugged in turn byCarlo, Freddie, Cass and Polly (only the groom had spared her), she hadlong since been rendered a mass of gluey paw prints Her hem trailed inthe water... Cass plunged across the stream to tug at it... Of courseshe never heard the man coming. Or even the horse she now saw throughstartled eyes as she turned at Freddie's hectic plea, "Are you myfather?" and her heart stood still.So still it was as though it had never known life at all, that shenever had. Her whole body soaked to ice with shock real, raw,unexpected rigid with it. She felt the last of her blood drain away.He.. the man.. just for a second-longer, as she fought to hold on towhat she knew was the truth, failing-he could have been. So like!Standing so tall, so powerfully at ease against the sun as a small boytugged at his sleeve, just as Carlo had done the last time Philip camehome.Dear God, but for one punishing, dragging second he could have been !Then it was over. Philip had never laughed like that. No more wouldPhilip have had the first idea what to do in a situation as delicate asthis. This man was a stranger, yet instantly he made Freddie hisally."Your father'? Do I want to be? You're a disgusting specimen."Freddie, still hoping, never really understanding his father couldnever come home, recognised the tone, so like his mother's teasingmanner. He felt completely safe with it.So he argued. "Am not! Well, not as bad as Carlo, he's..." Freddiewas only four and his vocabulary was inadequate to his sneer."Very likely. I can smell him from here!"The man had not moved and Luciana knew in that moment that he was awareof everything, acutely attuned; unused to children yet instinctivelyletting Freddie take the lead, his gaze quickly summing up the warinessin Carlo, holding back just as the older boy held back, knowing somehowthat the child would eventually trust his laughter.Carlo seemed to, though he stayed mid-stream and Luciana's throatclenched with pain. Carlo remembered, too-the last time Philip hadcome home, equally a stranger to be unsure of until he saw his mother'sradiant smile. Carlo understood death, but he had kept hoping. Shecould not bear it. She didn't know what to do, or say.The man saw that and spoke for her."Forgive my creeping up on you in such a villainous fashion, ma'am, butI could not help it. I didn't want to disturb you. It is so longsince I heard such liberating sounds as these."That was when Luciana knew she was no stranger to him, that he knew allabout her and the children, and she knew, as her heart slowly began tobreathe again, why he seemed so familiar. His very stance, and thosequietly regretful words, were enough. Another soldier. her eyes asthey flickered to his hand-the hand Freddie She knew where he had comefrom and why. was holding as if nothing were strange about it atall.Toulouse. Where her brother-in-law, the Marquess, Even gloved as itwas in thick, worn leather she could had died not four months since inthat last unnecessary see... battle. From Rory's regiment. Philip's,once... It was Carlo who saved the day, hearing the man giveSlowly she unwound her frozen limbs and stood. a name he knew from allhis Uncle Rory's most exciting Which was when the stranger moved,careful not to let stories, puzzled by his mother's drained silence.go of Freddie's hand which clung to this prize captive so "Did youreally lose your hand at Talavera, sir?" determinedly. Close enoughfor him to see her clearly at Straight to the core of her dilemmaLuciana smiled last, and Luciana to see him. in pain and through itwith all the frankness of a child.Max Rivington, my lady." He did not bow, or even Just as LordRivington needed. smile, and never had she felt such intensity as wasin "Not all of it; I'm sorry to be so dull. Just two fingers." hiseyes. Dark eyes, unreadable. Her heart stilled once "Ohh..." Freddiesuddenly became aware of what he more. was holding and his delightboiled over. "May I see?"She found her voice, just, husky with effort. "Oh... "Freddie!" Thatwas too much. Luciana moved to but, yes, of course but I hadthought..." recapture her son. Too late. Even as she laid hold ofhis ,"I am recovered now. He spoke almost reflexively, collar-in an all tooominous and familiar manner she thought, as if he were no more aware ofwhat he was Lord Rivington obligingly tugged off his glove and sayingthan she was, just as dazed. bared his hand to the revealingsunlight."I'm so glad, sir. Rory.. he spoke of you so often. My And by amiracle Luciana said the right thing. husband, too." Rory, with themature affection of the Because she was little more than a childherself, after fiercely independent man he had become; Philip, withall, and the widow and daughter of soldiers all the hero-worship of theboy that was all he was "Well, I must say I don't think much of that.How granted the time to be. unimpressive!" As she said it, herstomach settled; saying"And they spoke of you so-lying-really did make what she saw seem notsoStrange, Luciana thought, how taut his voice is, how it terrible.seems hard for him to speak. Perhaps it was. That was "Isn't it? I'mnot doing very well, am I? Perhaps I when she really saw his face.should go back to the village, co-opt the blacksmith intoHer eyes flared in shock-so ferociously handsome, removing my leg, thenhobble back and try again." so hurt! That scar, ripping into hischeek, twisting down It was easy to offer her hand to him then. Whatwas into his neck, was brutal. Hideous. It should have not so easywas understanding the instant, penetrating destroyed his beauty but itdid not. shock she felt as that jagged skin met hers. Nothing toShe fought to control her response, the expression in do with herwariness of maybe hurting him... So much to do wit... [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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