Duel of Hearts Read Online Free Page A

absorbed in applying a poultice to the horse’s left foreleg. “Well, there you are, Edward,” the girl said breathlessly.
    The man in shirtsleeves looked up in surprise. “Corianne! Good lord, girl, you’re soaked through!” He jumped up and crossed to her in three quick strides. “Is something amiss?”
    â€œNo, nothing. But I had to see you. Can we go somewhere to talk?”
    â€œYes, of course. But I think we’d better dry you off first. Hand me one of those towels, will you, Martin?”
    â€œAye, I will,” the groom replied, tossing it to him. “And ye’ll be needin’ a blanket, too, I’d say.”
    â€œIf you think I’d let you wrap me in one of those filthy horse-blankets,” the girl objected haughtily, “you’re fair and far off.”
    â€œ Filthy! ” Martin exclaimed in outrage. “They’re as clean as the ones on yer bed!”
    â€œJust so,” Edward agreed with a grin. “Therefore, my girl, you can dispense with your missish ways. Take this towel to your hair, and when you’ve rubbed it dry enough, you can wrap this blanket round your shoulders like a sensible little chit. You don’t want to come down with a lung infection, do you?”
    Corianne knew better than to argue with Squire Edward Middleton when it came to matters of her health. Ever since she could remember, he’d treated her with the concern of an elder brother or an uncle. Although her friend Belinda often claimed that Corianne could twist poor Edward round her little finger, Corianne knew that the claim wasn’t strictly true. He was a dear, and he found it hard to refuse her anything, but refuse he did if he thought it was for her good. There was something immovable about Edward when he thought he was right. Therefore she must handle him especially carefully today. She couldn’t afford to annoy him now, not if she wanted him to agree to the enormous favor she was about to ask of him. So she meekly took the shabby towel he handed her and rubbed her hair.
    Edward removed the wet pelisse from her shoulders and put the blanket over her. “Well, Martin,” he said to the groom, “I’ll leave you to finish with the fomentation. Just keep the leg bound, and we’ll take another look at it in the morning.”
    â€œIs there something seriously wrong with Bolingbroke?” Corianne asked in sympathetic concern. The black horse was Edward’s favorite.
    â€œNothing nearly as wrong as there’ll be with you, if we don’t get you near a warm fire,” Edward answered lightly, steering her out of the stable. In short order, he established her comfortably before the hearth of the large stone fireplace in his library, gave her pelisse to Chapham to dry and press, and ordered the butler to bring her a glass of hot milk laced with honey. “Now, my foolish child, you can tell me what brought you out in this weather so inadequately protected,” he said to her, taking a seat in the wing chair opposite her and lighting a pipe.
    â€œIt was this,” she said, leaning forward to hand him the letter she had clung to all this while.
    He unfolded the soggy missive, now almost unreadable, and strained to make out the words. “What is this? An invitation from your Aunt Laurelia?”
    â€œYes, isn’t it wonderful? She asks me to come for a nice, long stay.”
    Edward cocked an eyebrow at her suspiciously. “Strange, isn’t it, that she should have written after all this time?”
    â€œStrange?” Corianne lifted her chin belligerently. “Why is it strange to receive an invitation from one’s very own aunt?”
    â€œYou haven’t had a word from her since your presentation, have you?”
    â€œWell, no, but—”
    â€œThat was two years ago, wasn’t it?”
    The girl tried to stare him down. “Yes, but what has that to say to