Melinda Hammond Read Online Free Page B

the icy wind that cut through the thin kid gloves, stinging her fingers.
     'Here, let me help you.' She felt a strong arm about her shoulders. 'Keep your head down. I'll guide you.'
     She found herself clamped firmly against Rafe Bannerman's solid figure and he marched her steadily forward. A few minutes later, the wind dropped and Verity peeped up to see that they had turned onto a sweeping drive and had reached the shelter of a building. She was aware of a large oak door being flung open and she was bundled across the threshold into an echoing stone passage. Breathing heavily, she swayed as she found herself free of the gentleman's reassuring grip. She blinked, dazed by the quiet calm of the entrance hall.
     'You are safe now, Miss Shore.' Rafe Bannerman murmured, taking her hand to support her.
     'Yes, thank you. I just need a moment to compose myself.'
     There was a bustle at the far end of the passage and Verity stepped quickly away, pulling her hand free.
     'Master Rafe we had quite given you up!' A plump, middle-aged woman hurried towards them, her black silk skirts rustling around her. 'When the snow began to fall we made sure we would not see you until the morning!'
     'You should know I would not let a little snow keep me away from you, Megs!' declared Mr Bannerman, smiling. 'Let me present Miss Verity Shore to you - your Cousin, Margaret Worsthorne …'
     'Oh fie on you, Master Rafe, be done with your ceremony! Can you not see the child is quite done up?' Her kindly face creased into a smile as she looked at Verity. 'Come along into the parlour, my dear. Plenty of time to get acquainted once you are thawed out!'
     Thank you ma'am,' began Verity, but the lady cut her short.
     'Call me Megs, my child, for we are Cousins, are we not?' She ushered Verity across a large galleried hall into a snug wainscoted room with a blazing fire. 'And you are little Verity, poor Charles's baby! To think of you living in Portsmouth all those years and we did not know it. Luke has not long come it and he said the weather was closing in with the roads well nigh impassable, so we thought you might put up somewhere for the night. However, I had Ditton put up a light supper in here, just in case, but my dear you look too exhausted even for that, so sit you down by the fire and I will find Cook and ask her to boil some milk for you, and perhaps when you are rested you will find your appetite.'
     'And brandy for me, Megs, if you will,' put in Mr Bannerman.
     'I will ask Ditton to send up a bottle,' said Mrs Worsthorne, bustling out of the room.
     When she had gone Verity removed her bonnet and shook out her flattened curls, then she pulled off her gloves and tried to untie the strings of her cloak.
     'Let me.' Rafe Bannerman threw aside his own gloves and stepped forward to wrestle with the knot.
     'My fingers are still too cold to be of use,' murmured Verity, trying not to think about the lean fingers moving so close to her cheek.
     'They will soon recover.' He unfastened the strings and removed her cloak, tossing it over the back of a chair.
     'I am sure they will, with such a good fire blazing in the hearth.'
     Verity was glad to turn away from his disturbing presence. She knelt before the fire and stretched out her hands towards the warmth.
     'Not that way!' Rafe Bannerman caught her hands and pulled her to her feet. 'You must warm them slowly: the fire will cause them to scorch and blister.' He stood close, holding her fingers between his own warm hands. Verity felt the hot blood coursing through her cheeks and was aware of an erratic heartbeat making her breathless. She dare not raise her eyes, but kept them fixed on the neat sapphire pin nestling in the folds of the gentleman's cravat.
     'There. Are they warmer now?'
     Receiving no reply, the gentleman's mouth curved into a smile. 'Faith, m'dear, this must be the first time I've known you lost for words!'
     Verity looked up at that, the ready laughter curving her