The Seduction of Sarah Marks Read Free Page A

moment.”
    Guilt wound its way through Eastleigh. Had he never left home, this wouldn’t have happened—to him or to her. “Does that mean we might enjoy a truce?”
    Her refined features took on even more softness. “Between you and me, at least.”
    Something hitched low in his belly. He managed a smile, “Good,” and realized he’d also managed to dispense with the headache. He was pain free at the moment—except for the constant throbbing in his right leg, which he’d learned to live with—bloody swords. They should be outlawed in battle.
    …
    She studied him for a long moment. “You may call me Miss Marks.” She clasped her gloved hands tightly together. “I presume I’m unmarried since I wear no ring.” Oh, dear, she was back to thinking of her predicament . “Or was one taken from me in the robbery?”
    He shook his head. “They took a pair of ear bobs from you is all.”
    “Of any worth, could you tell?”
    “Not much, I would suspect.” He offered her a bit of a smile and then propped his elbow on the window sill.
    My, but he was handsome—and growing more so with every passing hour. His upper teeth were white and even, except for a small triangular chip where a front tooth butted against the other. A small scar ran alongside his upper cheek. She regarded his supple fingers while his thumb fiddled at that broken tooth, something she’d seen him do often during the ride.
    When he caught her staring, he dropped his hand. “For what it’s worth, madam—”
    “Miss Marks.”
    He shifted in his seat and frowned. “I shall call you madam until I have grown used to the other.”
    Her heart went to galloping again. Lord, she had to take her mind off her predicament if her sanity was to remain intact. She took in a slow breath and exhaled just as slowly. “Tell me of your siblings.”
    He nodded, seeming more at ease with this question. “I’m the first of four sons and four daughters.”
    “Your rank? Certainly not a duke if your father remains alive.”
    His eyes sparkled whenever he smiled. “Ah, a knowledge of ranking. You see? Your memory will trickle in as it chooses. I am merely a viscount. My father is an earl.”
    “Tell me of your four sisters.”
    He was playing with that broken tooth again. “Perhaps there are only three. We aren’t certain at times.” When her brow rose, he laughed. “Willamette came along smack in the middle of a raucous bunch of boys. Being profoundly stubborn, she insisted on dressing and acting like her brothers and does so to this day.”
    “Oh, my.”
    “Mother claimed the name Willamette, shortened to Will by her brothers, did the deed, so my other sisters were named after flowers—Rose, Iris, and Violet.”
    Sarah fought to recall if she had any siblings.
    Nothing.
    Frustrated, she heaved a sigh.
    Eastleigh leaned forward. She caught his scent. Familiar, but of what, she couldn’t put to tangible thought. His hand covered hers. The heat emanating from his fingers went right through her. She tried to pull away, but he held her steady.
    And as if in defiance, he leaned even closer. “You are here, as am I, as is John Coachman,” he said in a low, commanding voice. “As are the flowers beside the road, the blue sky overhead.”
    His scent and the intimacy of his hands upon hers sent another shockwave through her.
    “Here and now is truly your only world, madam, as much as it is my only world, with or without our memories intact. Will you send yourself to Bedlam trying to recollect your past and worry over your future? Perhaps you might try trusting that I know of what I speak and force your thoughts to remain in the present.”
    “You’re right, of course.” Oh, she had to exercise a little faith that somehow this would all be set to rights, or she would surely fall apart. Her hand beneath his relaxed. “Thank heavens it was you that I ended up with in this miserable condition.”
    He let go of her and leaned back, regarding her through heavy