Surrender to the Earl by Gayle Callen Page A

your first conversation when you suspected you might suit each other?”
    Audrey hesitated. “Yes, I suppose it was.” Theoretically, that was true—she’d known she had to ask for his help. Maybe she suspected all along that he was trustworthy.
    And now he’d saved her life.
    “Have you—” Molly broke off, and she sounded most hesitant. “Has he . . . kissed you?”
    “Oh, no, he has been most proper,” Audrey insisted.
    “I am sorry for that.”
    “I am, too,” Audrey said, trying to play her part.
    Molly lowered her voice. “But he wants to kiss you, I can tell.”
    Right then, Audrey almost told her the truth, but something held her back. No one must know, not until she was safe. I am playing a part, she told herself again. “How do you know he wants to kiss me?”
    “I can just . . . tell. He doesn’t have to hide his feelings when he looks into your face, like a man would with a sighted woman. And the way he held you—like he didn’t want to let you go.”
    “I hope so,” Audrey had to say, even though it wasn’t true. He was playing his part, too.
    He’d better be, because Audrey would never allow herself to have more with a man. Not ever again, no matter what he felt like or how he smelled—or how he might kiss.
    Not that she was planning to find out.
    “W elcome to Hedgerley,” Robert said, late the next morning.
    Audrey clapped her hands together. “My new village—my home.”
    “Let me describe it to you, miss,” Molly said with excitement.
    “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
    Molly had been in pain last night, and Audrey knew she hadn’t slept well. She’d dozed the several-hour journey, though, and was sounding better.
    “I could describe it,” Robert offered.
    Both women hesitated.
    “You think I cannot?”
    Audrey was starting to think he could do anything he wanted—he’d gotten her away from her father, he’d saved her from a thief, and now he’d brought her to her own home.
    “Shall we allow it just this one time, Molly?” she asked.
    Molly heaved a dramatic sigh. “Just this once.”
    “With that kind of belief,” he began dryly, “I shall commence. I see a village green. And there’s a church on the far side with a pointed steeple.”
    “A green and a church,” Audrey said dubiously. “Do not strain your creativity so.”
    “The straight facts are important in the army,” he insisted. “But I shall try to go deeper. The church is made of stone, with ivy climbing.”
    “Better, milord,” Molly encouraged.
    “I do believe I see the sign of a tavern, which it seems I will soon need the benefits of.”
    Audrey couldn’t help joining Molly in laughter. “You are so easy to tease, Robert. What is the name of the tavern?”
    “The Lion and the Hen.”
    “Now you are teasing me.”
    “Molly, am I?”
    “No, miss, in fact the sign shows the hen with its wings raised, as if it’s frightening the lion.”
    “A strange village you have here,” Robert mused.
    She loved it already. “What else?”
    Too soon they left Hedgerley behind. Audrey could barely sit still as Molly talked about an orchard of pear trees, and a flock of sheep in the distance.
    They took a turn down a bumpy lane.
    “I see your house, Miss Audrey! It is two stories made of stone, cresting the top of a gentle hill, and the parklands slope down away from it—oh, and there’s a stream leading into a pond.”
    “Can we swim?” Audrey asked excitedly.
    “You swim?” Robert’s tone was incredulous.
    “I do—not that you will see me.”
    “Your husband cannot see you swim?” he retorted.
    She withheld a wince. “Oh . . . I imagine there is so much for me to get used to.”
    “You were not married long the first time,” Molly pointed out. Then, “Oh, so many windows and chimneys. I see a stable in the distance, but not a separate coach house. I imagine there’s room for a carriage in there.”
    So many windows, Audrey mused dreamily. Was she a wealthy woman,