Page 16 of Adeline

She could not stop her stare from traveling the length of the man. He was all strength with thighs as stout as a tree and a narrow waist that led up to a broad chest heavy with muscles. Even his neck, sinewy and sculpted, spoke of hard labor. If his linen shirt were removed, would the expanse below be rife with ridges and corded power?

“My lord, thank you—“

His jaw clenched, and Adeline’s mouth clamped shut.

Finally, she could see his eyes—green, much like the color of new leaves budding in the spring warmth.

What she hadn’t expected was the cold, hard stare he leveled on her.

It should be Adeline questioning his decorum as her host. It should be she leveling him with a disdainful glare.

“Have I done aught to anger you, Lord Ailesbury?” Her good sense told her she should be scared, seek out her room until it was time to depart, or at the very least, keep her mouth firmly closed.

Yet, Adeline had never been blessed with any sense of self-preservation.

It wasn’t his marred countenance, the scars traveling from the side of his face to his neck and down his exposed arm from under his rolled sleeves that sent a shiver of fright coursing through her. Heavens no, it was the scowl that had settled on his face. No man would have gone to such lengths to save her, bring her to his home and out of the storm, only to show himself as a cruel, abusive man at first light.

His irked expression did not suit him.

Adeline sensed that Lord Ailesbury was no more a man prone to a punishing nature than she was a woman known for her kind disposition.

Sad, but very accurate.

“Have you been injured by the glass, Miss Adeline?” His question cut like a knife, hard and quick, doing nothing to soften his expression. “I can summon Doc—“

“No, my lord,” Adeline rushed. “I am uninjured. I was simply startled by the window bursting open and the candles extinguishing. My heartbeat has settled now, thank you for your concern.”

To her utter bewilderment, Lord Ailesbury pivoted and stalked from the room, leaving Adeline staring at his retreating back.

“Do not take offense, miss,” Abbington said from his position by the windows. “My lord does not mean any insult, it is only that he is unfamiliar with the art of entertaining.”

It was more likely he’d noticed her reaction when she turned and saw his scarred face for the first time. If Adeline could only turn back the clock a quarter of an hour, she would tame her response to his sudden appearance, for she hadn’t been frightened or even so much as startled by his wounds. His footsteps quieted as he strode farther from the dining hall, and Adeline suspected if she allowed him to escape, she’d never have the opportunity to make amends for the hurt she caused him.

She did the only thing that proved effective when a man—normally one of her brothers—sought to escape her. Adeline took hold of her skirts, so as not to trip over them, and ran after Lord Ailesbury. She caught up with him in the foyer as a footman helped him into a jacket.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

“Hunting,” he huffed, slamming his hands into gloves and pulling his hood up.

“You cannot venture out in this gale.”

“I most assuredly can—and will,” he countered. “It is my responsibility to feed everyone at Faversham Abbey, and the storm is likely to pass by the time my horse is readied.”

He could feed the entire household—and the village beyond—if he hadn’t been so wasteful with her repast. Adeline kept this to herself. Another thing she knew all too well was that criticizing men on their own follies gained a woman less than nothing. Yet, she would never forgive herself knowing it was she who forced him from his home. If she hadn’t reacted as she did, he would not be rushing out into the unrelenting elements under the guise of hunting.

There was only one thing Adeline could think to do. “Allow me to collect my cloak and bow from my room, and I shall join you. It is the least I can do after you provided such a grand meal for me.”

“You cannot…it is…improper…ludicrous…” he stammered as Adeline turned toward the stairs. “You will not come with me. You will wait here until your carriage is repaired and be on your way back to London.”

Adeline flipped around, galled at the man’s attempt to order her about as if he were her guardian. “I most certainly can—and will—come with you.”

“You are not attired properly. The wind and rain will soak through to your skin within moments.”

“I thought you said the storm would pass by the time our horses are readied,” she threw back at him, unwilling to give up or give in to his excuses.

“Our horses?” Lord Ailesbury glanced over her shoulder. “Abbington! See that Miss Adeline finishes her meal and retires to rest before her journey back to London.”

“You cannot think to order me ab—“