Free The Apple Blossom Bower (Historical Romance Novella) by Margaret Evans Porter Page B

expense—by luring her to Harborne Court without a servant or chaperone.
    Swallowing his outrage on the young woman’s behalf, he said soothingly, “Garth departed in haste, and rather unexpectedly.”
    “How like him.” She frowned.
    “Let me direct your coachman to the most comfortable and respectable inn at Totnes.  As you see, my house is in no fit state for receiving company. Even if it were, your parents wouldn’t approve of your staying here.”
    With a charming smile she said, “Indeed they would not. I’ll have difficulty enough accounting for my abrupt departure and swift return to Lyme.”
    With the matter settled, they exchanged news of mutual friends. Miss Corston apologized for her small store of gossip, saying she’d been living very quietly.
    “No matter,” said Edwin. “I shall travel to town myself in summer. I’m about to be married, and look forward to showing my bride all the wonders that you, a Londoner, take for granted. I depend upon your advice on which sights will most appeal to Annis.”
    “What a pretty name,” Elizabeth commented. “I’m sorry I shan’t be able to meet her. Did Garth tell you we no longer have the house in Dover Street?”
    Edwin shook his head.
    “Father suffered financial reverses and couldn’t afford to maintain it, or our former mode of living. He meant to lease it, until Garth came clean about how very much he’d lost at cards. The contents had to be sold as well. And so we removed to Lyme.”
    “I didn’t know. Garth said something about a few possessions being sold, but he gave no reason. I’m sorry.”
    “I rather like the change,” she said with apparent unconcern, “unlike my mother, who misses the opera and the fashionable assemblies. My brother cannot abide Lyme. Too provincial for his tastes.”
    Although she seemed undaunted by her family’s altered circumstances, Edwin pitied her. He had always liked Elizabeth and would always regard his former flirt as his friend—a much better one than Garth had turned out to be.
    “Garth is still sunk in debt,” she confided. “Father demanded that he give up the yacht. They had a dreadfully loud argument, and the very next day he sailed away. I don’t mind telling you I’ve been concerned. He’s reckless, and I do worry that his desperate need of money may lead him into greater trouble.”
    Her revelations solved the mystery of Garth’s motive for visiting Harbourne Court. Instead of curtailing his own expensive pleasures, the selfish young man schemed to fill the Corston coffers by marrying his sister to a wealthy baronet. And naturally he had coveted Jem Kelland’s mythical chest of gold, Annis’s supposed inheritance.
    He sent word to the stables that he wanted his fastest horses harnessed to the seldom-used chaise of which his great-uncle had been so proud.
    When he handed the young woman into the coach, she squeezed his fingers gratefully and said, “I confess I envy you, Edwin. I’d like to be married myself, to a certain gentleman in Lyme. He won’t easily win my father’s consent, for he hasn’t a title or a fortune. I don’t care, for we are well-suited. But you know how my parents are,” she concluded forlornly.
    “They’ll come around.”
    He wished he might accompany her to Totnes, for he needed to explain to Annis what had prevented him from meeting her at the fair. But escorting Elizabeth to a lodging house in his closed carriage was too risky—Garth might hear of it and make mischief.
    Alone again, his mind was flooded with memories of his night with Annis, whose instincts had compensated for her lack of experience in lovemaking. Her eagerness, her warmth, her pleasure had delighted him. Impatient for another chance to explore the magic of a shared bed, he intended to marry her as soon as possible.
    Amazing, he thought with a smile, what a kiss at harvest time could lead to.
     
     
    Edwin found his betrothed seated high in her apple tree, an open book upon her lap.