The Last Always | A Regency Romance

Chapter Four

"I'm still not sure you why insist on hosting this hunt. The staff alone to pull it off is more than we could earn in three years time."

His father responded only with a grunt as he pulled his jacket on. The air was chilled, increasing the excitement of the dogs, horses and the men that were milling about outside.

The sounds of carriages bounding down the large courtyard in front of the estate made Pemberton cringed inward. Sunderby Estate was supposed to be the escape from the bustling city. A time for Pemberton to relax and to hide away from women, and their meddling mothers, who made it their life's mission to marry him.

He left his father's chambers to seek out his own valet to make sure his guns were appropriately cleaned and shined. He watched as the servants showed guests to their rooms for the week. A couple of tall gentlemen followed closely behind the footman while their wives followed slowly and kept their arms entwined looking in awe at the art that decorated the halls.

When they noticed him, they dipped gracefully, he bowed his head and kept on his path to his room. He kept his gaze down, not wanting to catch the eye of anyone wanting to strike up conversation. He didn't have the time or the desire to be hospitable. He still believed that his father was making a huge mistake.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't see the small, petite figure in front of him until it was too late. He caught himself on the small hallway table that lined the wall. It wasn't the same for the woman, as she was knocked down and laid sprawled on the floor. She didn't move.

Pemberton caught a glimpse of her thin stockinged ankles that lead to small delicate feet encased in kid shoes. He quickly adjusted her layers of skirts to keep anyone else from seeing her indecently.

When he finally got her properly covered, he focused his attention on finding out if he had managed to break anything. He touched her arms, starting at her milky wrists, looking for signs of injury. When he managed to focus his eyes on her face, he was startled to find her eyes wide open and staring at him.

Emerald green eyes looked at him through thick, dark lashes. A pale pink flush bloomed across her face and the bridge of her nose. Her lips were parted, helping her regulate her breathing from the fall.

Raven curls framed her face. They were a little frizzy and damp, he assumed from her travels, but otherwise they looked soft and he yearned to touch them. To feel them wind around her fingers.

"Are you going to help me up, or am I to be held prisoner on this floor forever?"

She spoke! To him!

He realized that he had his arms on either side of her narrow shoulders, effectively keeping her captive.

"My utmost apologies," he muttered as he freed her. He stood up and straightened his own appearance before extending out his hand to her to help her up.

When she put her own, non-gloved hand, into his, he swore he could feel the air crackle. She removed her hand as soon as she was steady on her feet.

"What are you doing in this wing? This is private."

She was taken aback by his comment. Pemberton immediately wished that he could take back his words. She smoothed out her hair and once again he wished to see it curled under his hands and splayed out on his bed.

His thoughts and her eyes on him frustrated him more.

"I'll ring someone to direct you to your proper room." He moved towards the rope at the long end of the hallway to summon someone to their location.

"I was told my room was this one," she pointed to the door nearest them. The room next to his.

"Impossible. This wing is off limits."