Free Virgin Unwrapped by Christine Merrill Page A

longer than necessary, just to feel them holding her. Later, when she was alone with her thoughts, she could pretend that it had been a caress.
    Perhaps that day he had noticed. He had stared back at her, his dark blue eyes smoldering with what she assumed was disgust at her weakness. Then he had slowly and deliberately withdrawn his hand. He had been cold to her ever since.
    Was it so awful to have a tendre for a man who was not to be her husband? She would not let anything come of it, of course. She was all but promised to Joseph, and the happiness of several people depended on her ability to go through with the marriage as it had been planned.
    But she could not say she loved him. Though she would lie to him on the subject if it was necessary, she should not have to lie to herself. Although he was kind, she felt no real excitement at the touch of Joseph Stratford. But the thought of Robert Breton’s touch filled her with a delicious, languorous heat. If she could not have that, then she must work to maintain his friendship. Without Robert here to visit with, she would sit alone in this great house, waiting for her husband to remember that there was anything more important in his life than work.
    At the moment, it was almost as lonely as if she had no company at all. Her companion drank his tea in silence and could barely look her in the eye, ending each sip with a sigh of distaste and a glance out the window.
    After a polite knock, the housekeeper entered and inquired after the menu for the next day’s entertainment. Guests were arriving for the holidays and everything had to be perfect. Anne supplied the necessary information and a smile of approval, then went back to her cup as the woman retreated.
    “You treat the house as your own, already?” Mr. Breton said with a raised eyebrow and an accusing tone. “I understood that the engagement had not yet been announced.”
    “Well, no,” she admitted, shifting uncomfortably. “But it will be soon. Tomorrow, perhaps, at the ball. For now, Joseph seems to value my help. This was my parents’ house before he bought it. I know the staff and the rooms. And the best way to entertain in it. It is just…easier.”
    “I see.” Robert said it as though he was catching her in some just uncovered deception, and not stating a fact that he understood almost as well as she did herself.
    And then, he put down his teacup with a click and rose as though angered by the charade. “I must go. Stratford will be expecting me at the mill.”
    It was an outright lie. In her presence, Joseph had often teased Mr. Breton about his disinterest in something so integral to his financial well-being. And Robert had responded with a laugh that he was quite content to remain by the fire and leave the place wholly to Joseph, so that they might both be happy. His current and sudden interest could mean only one thing: he was making lame excuses to remove himself from her presence.
    Anne popped to her feet, searching for a way to stay his departure. “Must you go so soon? You have hardly touched your plate. Are you sure there is nothing more you wish? Because I would be happy to oblige you in anything you desire.”
    “Do not make promises that you have no intention of keeping.” He was almost out of the room before she could think of a response.
    “Wait. Please, Mr. Breton.” He turned and she decided to risk honesty and walked to him. “Is it me? Is it something I have done? You are clearly upset, and I do not know why.”
    “You know quite well what the matter is,” Robert snapped.
    She stood beside him now, looking up into his angry face. “In truth, I do not. Is there nothing I can do to make things right between us, as they used to be?”
    “You wish things to be right between us?” He gave a mocking laugh. “Then you must begin to act like Stratford’s wife, if you truly mean to be so.”
    “But I do,” she said, confused. “I am in this house from breakfast until late in the