Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter Read Free

struggled to keep his balance, but the angle of the slope was too much for them. Together they rolled down, jolting over the rough ground and slithering where it was smooth. But he held her firmly through out, shielding her from the worst of the bumps. They finally ended up in a grassy hollow, where they came to a stop. They lay there in silence for a moment or two. Then he said, ‘That was exciting. Are you hurt?’
    Dazed and winded Emily lay, still wrapped in his arms, not sure whether she was or she wasn’t. After the buffeting and bumping of the previous minute, the hollow was strangely quiet. The world seemed to have re treated, leaving them alone in a haven of peace. She lay there almost dreamily, surprised and pleased that her various aches and pains appeared to have vanished. After a moment she shook her head.
    â€˜Are you sure?’ He was leaning over her, his face close to hers. It was a nice face, she thought hazily. A kind face. A face full of humour. A tiny fan of wrinkles at each corner of his dark blue eyes gave her the impression that he laughed quite often. Or was it because he spent a good deal of his time out of doors? He was quite tanned. His nose was slightly crooked, and he had a firm chin, though it looked at the moment as if it needed a shave. He wasn’t laughing at present—his expression was serious, a small frown between his brows. How pleasant, she thought. He’s really concerned about me.
    She was surprised at how com forting this was. She regarded herself as an in de pen dent creature, but recently she had begun to feel lonely, even amongst the people she loved best in the world. And Mrs Gosworth had stirred up doubts about her future, which she would rather have for got ten. She was in need of comfort. It was very agreeable to be regarded with such concern and, though the sensation was new, it was very pleasant to have someone’s arms holding her so…so protectively.
    â€˜Would you like me to help you to get up?’
    She considered the question. This feeling of intimacy, this new aware ness of a man’s body close to hers, was strange, but definitely attractive. ‘I’m really quite happy where I am, thank you,’ said Emily, giving him a sweet smile. ‘I don’t think I want to move.’
    Afterwards, when she thought over what followed, she told herself she must have hit her head as she fell. It was the only explanation. Or perhaps she had been so shaken by her fright with the bull that she had been temporarily out of her mind. Whatever the cause, she had certainly not been herself.
    Emily Winbolt had a warm heart and a lively sense of humour, but outsiders were seldom aware of either. Her manner to them was usually cool, even distant—that of a perfectly well-behaved, perfectly brought up, perfectly well-bred young lady. She was a devoted grand daughter, an openly loving sister to her brother Philip, and when he married had given her new sister-in-law the same affection. But several unfortunate experiences had made her cynical about most members of the opposite sex, and only her strong sense of humour had saved her from lasting bitterness.
    Her behaviour in the hollow, for whatever reason, was so shocking, so completely out of character, that thosewho knew her would never have believed it. She later concluded it must have been caused by a fit of madness following her fall.
    But while she was with this stranger it seemed al together natural.
    He frowned slightly. ‘All the same, I think we should at least check whether you’re damaged at all. Can you move your arms and legs?’
    Still in the grip of this strange emotion, she stretched luxuriously like a cat then smiled again and wrinkled her nose at him. ‘You see? Apart from a few scratches I’m perfectly sound.’ The movement brought her into closer contact with the body next to hers. Her cheek was resting on his chest, and she could feel the warmth of his