PART ONE
In which a girl falls from the sky
Chapter One
She fellfrom the heavens right into his awaiting arms.
(Alas, this was precisely what didnothappen.)
The unvarnished truth?
He did catch her, through some miraculous quirk of fate, more luck than anything else, really, but then promptly dropped her into a bed of nettles.
She screeched.
In that instant, he realised that the thing that had been plummeting toward him was not, in fact, a gigantic bat swooping down upon its unsuspecting prey. Nor was it, as his panicked mind rather unhelpfully proposed, a heavy sack of oats flailing and shrieking its way through the air. Whatever it was, it had given him scarcely half a second to decide whether he should catch it or submit to his fate of becoming crushed like a beetle under a boot.
He caught it.
“Ouff.”
The impact nearly wrenched his arms from their sockets. Then it started wiggling in his hold, and his befuddled brain realised that what he held was neither bat nor bag of oats, forit felt oddly curvy and agreeably soft in the most unexpected places, smelling bewitchingly sweet of lavender.
Good heavens. A woman.
This was when he dropped her like a load of glowing embers.
The bundle hit the ground with a thump.
“Why did you do that?” She had a pair of big, outraged eyes and a head full of unruly black hair that tumbled wildly across a very indignant face.
“Not an overgrown bat,” he noted.
“Most definitely not!” she fumed. “Next time you intend to throw me into the nettles, I should be most grateful if you gave me some warning.”
She scrambled upright, brushed dust from her sleeves, and shook out her skirts. She winced as she straightened, with a distressed sound.
“Thanks to you, I placed my hand right into the nettles.” She blew on her fingers. “I’ll probably get blisters.”
“You are trespassing.” That was probably not the thing at all to say in this particular situation, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything better to say to a random girl who had just fallen out of the sky right into his arms.
He cleared his throat. It was all rather unanticipated and awkward, and not at all the thing to expect when one went on a mere afternoon walk to visit the picturesque ruins of a medieval abbey that were found on the grounds of the estate.
Judging from her glare, she thought the same. “Trespassing, balderdash,” she informed him. “I live here.”
Shelivedhere?
His brows drew together to a frown. Was she the gardener’s daughter? One of the maids living on the farm? A milkmaid, possibly? His gaze wandered over her simple, grey cotton dress, torn at the hem. His eyes paused briefly at a stain on her sleevebefore they continued wandering over her small, curvy figure and ended at her bare feet.
“I lost my shoes,” she muttered, wiggling her toes in the dust. And her stockings as well, it appeared. She had small feet. And tiny toes.
He tore his eyes away hastily and fixed them on her face instead.
Her eyes were too big, her mouth too wide, her small, turned-up nose dusted with freckles. There was a streak of dirt across her nose as if she had poked her face into a mud hole.
Not a beauty.
Most definitely not.
