Sybill Read Online Free Page A

she was increasingly sure he was dangerous. She took a sip of the rich-bodied wine while she watched him retrieve the other two glasses. The men were conversing, so she did not think either noticed her perusal of the man who fascinated and frightened her.
    As he accepted his glass, Lord Foxbridge said, “I think it might be a good idea if you show Miss Hampton around the estate and village, Trevor. You will find she rides well.”
    Black eyes settled on her. “Is that so? Do you think you can handle the uneven paths around the Cloister?”
    â€œI will manage.”
    â€œShe has ridden with her father and me when we went hawking, Trevor. She will do well.” Lord Foxbridge smiled into his goblet. The antagonism already developing between his guest and his trusted assistant was entertaining. Although it was not what he had expected when these two met, he did not doubt all would work out fine in the end.
    As he listened to their stilted conversation, he sipped on his wine. Yes, it would all work out fine in the end.

Chapter Two
    Sybill stared at the bed canopy. Her warm nest was tinted with golden light from the morning sun filtering through the bed curtains. Drawing the bedcovers closer to her chin, she sighed.
    More than ever, she was sure it was a mistake to be at Foxbridge Cloister. Not that Lord Foxbridge was not as kind as she recalled him. He seemed the perfect host. Charming and generous. Instead of the spartan room she expected would be her lot, he had insisted she use this lovely suite. In addition to the bedroom, which dwarfed the one she had in London, there was a private chamber for Kate and a sitting room with its own hearth. Like the other rooms, it was decorated with new furniture which the lord had purchased to fill the massive addition to the original cloister.
    She could have no complaints about the lord. It was his servant who concerned her. With a groan, she buried her face in her pillow. Trevor Breton hated her. He made no effort to hide that. Why he should despise her, she did not know, but she could guess.
    Lord Foxbridge was not young. In his letters, he had not dissembled about his deteriorating health. Under those circumstances, he would have to depend on his estate manager. By the way the servants deferred to Mr. Breton, she could tell he ran the estate single-handedly. Although he would give his orders in Lord Foxbridge’s name, an aura of power surrounded Mr. Breton.
    And he hated her because he feared her. He suspected she would be able to see the truth and would report to someone how much authority he had gained. Let him try to oust her from her only home, and she would resort to such tactics.
    Sybill gasped at her own hateful thoughts. Sweeping aside the bed curtains so forcefully that the rings holding them to the railing near the top of the canopy jangled, she climbed down the steps from the high bed. She went to the mirror at the dressing table to determine if she had changed during the night.
    Although her features were unaltered, the gentle Sybill who had trusted life to treat her well had died with her father. Harshly she had been taught how little others cared for her, and she forced herself to harden her heart to worry as little about others. It was not easy, because she always was the caring one. Time after time, Kate had scolded her for giving pennies to street urchins. She had no more coins to offer anyone. All she possessed was this invitation to live at Foxbridge Cloister. She was not going to let anyone wrench it from her until she could decide what she would do. If Trevor Breton tried to have her evicted from Foxbridge Cloister, she would fight him with every weapon she could devise. Her most powerful one was the lord himself.
    â€œGood morning.”
    She spun to see Kate entering. It was useless to remonstrate with her maid. In the nearly three years she had worked for the Hamptons, Sybill had never been able to convince her to knock.
    â€œGood