Free The Folly at Falconbridge Hall by Maggi Andersen Page A

bolts had been her latest effort. The weather seemed to make everyone short tempered. “Why, we might live in Africa for all this heat we’re having,” Mrs. Royce complained.
    The humidity reached its zenith three weeks after the ball. Vanessa twisted and turned in the bedclothes, her nightgown sticking to her skin. What she would give for a sea breeze!
    She had no idea what time it was. Throwing back the covers, she stumbled in the dark to the open window. The air was heavy and still, the fragrances intensified. Crickets trilled, and from somewhere near the pond, a frog sent a throbbing invitation to its mate.
    As her eyes adjusted, the brick walls of the folly took shape where the soft glow of lamp light shone out. This must be the light Blythe had seen. She leaned forward, her elbows on the sill. Who would be down there this time of night? She decided to see who it was. Then she could reassure Blythe and put an end to her desire to see for herself. Pulling on her dressing gown, she slipped into a pair of shoes. She opened her bedroom door. It must have been close to midnight, the house quiet and still. She tiptoed along the corridor to the stairs. One flight down, she peered over the banister rail into the hall below where a gas lamp still burned. She knew that his lordship had gone to a dinner party; she had heard him instruct Johnson not to wait up. Apparently, he had not yet returned.
    She went softly down the stairs to the front door. Opening it, she slipped through, and it clicked shut behind her. The temperature was several degrees cooler outside. She made her way along the path through the gardens as the faint breeze stirred the damp hair at her neck, carrying with it the pine-laden scent of the woods. The moonlight illuminated the glassy waters of the lake. A disturbed water bird left its nest and flapped away.
    Only a few steps from the structure, she heard a soft moan followed by a groan. She could see the clear outline of two people. It was a romantic assignation as she’d guessed. But she had not expected …. Their pale moonlit bodies moved together on the chaise longue. A rich chuckle followed by a mew of pleasure sent Vanessa backing away.
    Spinning, she was suddenly disoriented. She caught a flicker of lights through the trees, and relief spread through her. It must be the house. Heart thudding, she tried to hurry, but solid trunks loomed and barred her way.
    Suddenly, she smacked up against a hard body and hands gripped her, fingers digging into the soft skin of her arms. She bit down on a scream.
    “Miss Ashley?”
    “It is I, my lord.” Weak with relief, Vanessa pulled away from Lord Falconbridge and almost fell. His hands came round her waist to steady her. Aware of her lack of undergarments, she pushed away from him again. “You can let me go, if you please. I’m quite able to walk unassisted.”
    She heard a soft laugh. “You are giving a poor imitation of it.”
    “It’s the heels of my shoes. They sink into the soft earth, and I’m a little unsettled. You gave me a fright.” It all sounded so lame, she clamped her lips together and lurched in the direction of the house where welcoming lights shone out.
    “I’m sorry to have alarmed you.” He walked beside her, and when they reached the house, he took out a key. Unlocking the door, he held it open for her. Aware of her dishabille, she brushed past him making for the stairs, her head lowered to hide her burning cheeks.
    “Don’t hurry away, Miss Ashley. I’d like to talk to you.” In the lamplight, he frowned at her. “Do you suffer from wanderlust?”
    She caught her breath. He had no reason to be so cross. “No. As I said, it’s so hot I couldn’t sleep and went for a walk.”
    “I’d prefer you put up with heat like the rest of us. Didn’t I warn you not to roam around the grounds?”
    “I believe you said not to go into the wood.”
    Tucking his brass-topped cane under his arm, he divested himself of his gloves and his