Seduced At Sunset Read Online Free Page B

at the end of the summer,” he told her,
seeming distracted. “There. A few of my servants are bringing your thief inside
now.”
    “Is he conscious?” Charlotte asked, trying again to sit
up. This time she felt somewhat recovered.
    “See for yourself.” Mr. Torrington held the curtain aside
for her. She was able to look out the window behind the sofa.
    The man was on his feet and walking, though he leaned
heavily on the men on either side, who escorted him inside. “I will have Mrs.
March examine him when she is through with you,” Mr. Torrington said.
    Charlotte regarded her rescuer curiously in the window’s
light as it reflected off his shiny black hair. Then she realized she had not
yet told him her name. “Mr. Torrington, how do you do. I am Charlotte Sinclair
of Pembroke.” She held out her gloved hand. He bent forward to shake it.
    “Pembroke Palace?”
    “Yes. My eldest brother is the duke.”
    His eyebrows lifted. “You don’t say. In that case, I am
deeply honored to have been of assistance to you, Lady Charlotte.”
    Their eyes locked and held, and she felt a shock of
awareness at the thrill of his touch. He had not yet let go of her hand, and
she was astonished by the fact that he did not crush it—for she knew the
size and strength of those brawny fists.
    But there was something else, too, that she
noticed—a curious and devilishly charming flicker of light in his eyes
that sent a hot and rather explosive spark of attraction to her core.
    Just then, the housekeeper entered the room, and Charlotte
was forced to let go of his hand. He moved away rather quickly and said, “My
lady, allow me to present Mrs. March. This is Lady Charlotte Sinclair of
Pembroke Palace, and she has hit her head. Will you take a look at her?”
    “I would be pleased to do so, sir,” the housekeeper replied,
and pulled a chair up to sit alongside the sofa. She set her bowl of water and
cloths on the floor. “Now tell me, where does it hurt?” she asked.
    Charlotte indicated the spot over and behind her ear.
    “Ah yes... You did some damage, I see. Did you lose
consciousness?”
    “I don’t believe so, though I did feel very faint.”
    “Can you wiggle your feet for me?” Mrs. March asked while
she examined the wound.
    Charlotte wiggled her feet.
    “What about double vision? Or numbness or tingling in your
hands or feet?”
    “No, nothing like that,” Charlotte replied.
    “Very good. Now let me see your pupils. Turn your face
toward the light?” Charlotte did as she was told, and the housekeeper examined
her eyes.
    Turning toward Mr. Torrington, who had moved to the other
side of the parlor, the housekeeper said, “She appears to be perfectly fine,
sir. I’ll just clean the wound now. It doesn’t look like she needs stitches.”
    “That is excellent news,” he replied. “Now, if you will
both excuse me.”
    He left the room—no doubt to check on the thief who
had been brought in through the servants’ entrance downstairs—and
Charlotte was left alone with the housekeeper. “Are you a nurse?” she asked.
“You seem quite knowledgeable.”
    “I have some experience with head wounds, my lady. I know
when it’s serious enough to call the doctor.”
    “Where did you gain such useful knowledge?” she asked.
    The housekeeper glanced down at her very briefly while she
continued to clean Charlotte’s wound. “That’s not for me to say, my lady.
You’ll have to ask Mr. Torrington about that.”
    “I do beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to pry.”
    Nothing more was said after that. Charlotte sat quietly
and patiently while Mrs. March finished cleaning her wound. Only then did she
realize that her coachman was probably very concerned, for she had been gone
far longer than fifteen minutes.
    When the housekeeper finished her duty, she collected up
the bowl of water with bloody washcloth and returned the chair to its original
position by the wall.
    “I am grateful for your assistance,” Charlotte said,