For the First Time Read Free

about her!
    “Yes,” came Miles’s confident reply. Her birthday couldn’t arrive quick enough.
    She couldn’t be certain, but she thought she heard Carny say, “Good.” What did he care if she took part in the party’s activities or not? It wasn’t as though he could possibly have any interest in seeing her. Not unless his situation had altered drastically since she last saw him.
    At the sound of her husband’s voice, Varya rose to her feet. “I told Miles I would greet them inside.” She didn’t sound as though the task would be a pleasant one. Dear Varya.
    “Where are you going to put them?” Blythe tried to keep her tone indifferent.
    Varya’s smile was gentle. “In the west wing, of course.”
    Blythe watched her leave with a sense of relief so strong she almost sighed out loud with it. The west wing. Good. Her room was in the east. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about getting up in the middle of the night and running into Carny.
    Or the wife he had chosen over her.
     
    She stank.
    Brushing a trickle of sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt, Blythe grimaced as the afternoon breeze drifted through the thin linen underneath her arm. She was dirty and sticky, and she smelled as though she hadn’t bathed in days.
    Some of the men working with her, however, smelled as though they hadn’t bathed in months.
    When she’d left the house earlier that afternoon, she had planned merely to ride out, visit a few tenants, oversee a few minor repairs, and perhaps take tea with one or two of their wives. She enjoyed sitting with these people who seemed to admire her size and strength and ability to work. She liked how the women talked openly and freely about things women of her class were expected not to discuss. She liked how the men included her in their discussions of agriculture and animal husbandry—also subjects ladies of her station were expected to be completely ignorant about. Lord knew she had her share of faults, but ignorance—she hoped—was not one of them.
    She had forgotten that today was the day John Dobson planned to put a new roof on his cottage. She had forgotten everything except that Lord and Lady Carnover were arriving that day. Her only thought had been to avoid them. Joining the half-dozen men working on Dobson’s roof in the heat of a warm summer afternoon provided ample distraction.
    It also gave her one more reason to make certain she snuck back into the house at a reasonable hour. She was going to have to bathe before dinner. She was also going to have to make sure Suki, her maid, made her look as feminine as possible to keep Miles docile. She didn’t want to give him anything new to lecture her about.
    The roof still was not finished when she excused herself an hour later, but she couldn’t afford to stay away from the house any longer. More guests had no doubt arrived in her absence, and she would hate for any of them to spot her as she snuck in through the servants’ entrance and stairwells. The servants wouldn’t tell on her, but visitors to the park would be bound to comment to Miles on his sister’s strange and dirty attire. Her clothing she could almost get away with—after all, many ladies considered it a lark to dress up in male clothing on occasion—but she would not be able to excuse the dirt, sweat, and odor that clung to her. And thenthere would be hell to pay for not conducting herself as she should. She was the daughter of a marquess, Miles would remind her. As if she could ever forget their father.
    Lord, she would be glad when her birthday arrived! Until then she had to be careful. Miles didn’t know of her plans to buy her own estate. If he did, he would no doubt try to stop her. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Not when all her dreams were so close to becoming reality.
    “Thank you for all your help, Lady Blythe.” John Dobson flashed her a broad grin as she lifted herself up into the saddle.
    Blythe smiled back. It was no secret among