Читать книгу Destitute On His Doorstep - Хелен Диксон, Хелен Диксон, Helen Dickson - Страница 2

From where she stood, Jane’s attention was entirely focused on him.

The stranger’s imposing presence seemed highly inappropriate in her late father’s home. Tall and well built, perhaps thirty years old, he was wearing severe black, but he had loosened his plain white stock and removed a leather glove from his left hand. The sun slanting through one of the high windows shone on his curly dark brown hair, springing thickly, vibrantly from his head and curling about his neck. His face was not handsome but strong, striking, disciplined and exceptionally attractive—the expression cool. He was also one of Cromwell’s Roundheads and a man who was familiar to her—a man she had once risked her life for.

The tender feelings that had governed her actions all those years ago had vanished when Cromwell’s Roundheads had killed her father. And now, finding one of them at Bilborough Hall, his very presence defiling the beloved walls, made her shake with anger.

She continued on down the stairs, finding it difficult to conceal the sense of outrage that possessed her on finding this Cromwellian in her home, treating Bilborough Hall as if he owned it. Sensing her presence, he spun round, all taut muscle, lean power and pulsing strength. His gaze was fixed on her as she crossed towards him.