A Proper Mistress (5 page)

Lord, but she looked about as far from respectable as a woman could get. He smiled. But, glancing up at her face, he saw what almost looked like apprehension in those wide, green eyes.

Ah, knows she kept me waiting and she's sorry for it,
he thought, in a mood now to be pleased.

"Blazes, but my father will throw us both out of the house with you done up like that!"

She seemed to grip the newel post even tighter as she frowned and asked, "Is something wrong? I though the dress quite—quite attractive?"

He grinned. "It's more than that. Now, come along. Your carriage awaits my sweet Sweet. However did you come up with such a name?"

"By being born with it," she said, her tone sharpening. She started down the stairs, and he watched, his attention caught by the sway of hips and the hint of trim ankle he glimpsed as she lifted her skirts for each step.

Two steps above him, she stopped, dropped her skirts and gave him her gloved hand. "I am putting myself in your care, Mr. Winslow."

The gesture and the words carried an odd grace, as if she honestly meant them. And a swell of protective instinct rose. Short, petite fingers lay in his grip, slim and fragile as fine china. He frowned. Quite ridiculous, of course. A jade such as her must care only for the size of a fellow's purse. This would be no more than a trick of her trade to stir a fellow's interest.

Blazes, she was good at it, too.

Still, they had a game to play now. So he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. Might as well start treating her as if she honestly were his intended—it'd take a bit to get accustomed to the thought of having a female attached to him.

And he fought down the shiver of apprehension. Hadn't Terrance always warned him against too much of an attachment to any female? 'Course, it would have been a fine thing for Terrance to have heeded his own advice, but Terrance never did. So it was now up to Theo to pull his brother's irons out of this particular fire.

With a tip of his hat to Sallie—who had his fifty pounds in her clutches now—Theo settled his high-crown beaver at a jaunty angle. And he said to Molly, "Hope you don't mind traveling in an open carriage."

The page boy leapt up from his chair to open the front door for them, and Theo led his vulgarly dressed pretend bride from Sallie's house.

Soon as he got her to the front steps she stopped, and he glanced down. Her eyes had brighten and widened. "Gracious, that's your carriage?"

He glanced at the curricle, and almost wished it were. Black, with touches of red trim and red painted wheels, it looked sleek and expensive; Terrance had always preferred how the light-bodied curricle handled on the road to the precarious perch of the high phaeton. Burke, Terrance's groom, short and slight, his face weathered by the sun and dressed in black coat and trousers, his hat at a rakish angle in imitation of how Terrance wore his, stood beside the heads of a pair of bay horses.

The sun pulled flashes of red from the fit, brown bodies of the compact pair of horses. Black tails were banged flat at the bottom and black manes lay to the left in perfect order. About the only thing in his brother's life that ran smoothly was his stable, Theo thought, a touch of pride stirring. Of course, a fellow ought to have a well run stable.

"My brother's curricle," he explained. Unable to resist boasting, he added, "The suspension is quite the latest—S-springs, don't you know. And you won't see a pair as well matched as these. They're Terrance's, too. I figured he owed me at least their loan, for they've bottom enough to handle the drive to Somerset if you don't try to gallop the whole distance.

"Now, come along and up with you. You'll sit next to me, and I've a rug, if you wish. It may be warm now, but we'll pick up a breeze on the road."

Fitting his hands to her waist, he found that she indeed had a figure just made for a fellow to hold. Soft as sin in all the right spots. He let his hold stay longer than he needed to before he lifted her into the front seats above the large carriage wheels. She seemed not to notice his touch and he found that a little irritating. Of course she must be well used to being handled by gentlemen, but he still found himself wanting her to be more aware of him.

Oh, stuff it. She's a hired woman!

Stepping up into the carriage, he picked up the reins and called out to the groom, "Let 'em go, Burke."

The groom stepped away from the tossing heads of the bays. They started forward, the white of their legs flashing. Over-grained and under used, Theo had always thought. And he had been glad of finding them tucked in the mews behind the house that his brother kept in London. And the surly Burke, too, who'd helped the horses into harness after a suitable bribe had softened his stance against Theo borrowing so much as a leather strap.

As the carriage swept away from Sallie's house, Burke swung himself up and into the small seat behind Theo and Molly. He leaned forward and said, his tone impertinent and rough with a West Country accent, "Now you mind, don't you go tippin' us over!"

Theo glanced back at him. "Tip us—? Just you hold your tongue, or I'll set you down again."

"Ha. See if you can! I'm going where those bays go."

"Then stubble it. Terrance may pay you, but the day I can't handle the ribbons better than he ever did is the day I take up driving cart horses. Tip us over!"

He glanced at Molly Sweet who stared at him, wide-eyed and looking a touch alarmed. She gripped the edge of the black coach hood that had been folded back and which could be lifted over them in case of bad weather.

"I've never tipped over any carriage," he told her, but had to admit, "Well, other than that first cart, and that wasn't my fault for that blasted pony ran off with it. So settle back and enjoy yourself, my sweet Sweet, and we'll be to Winslow Park in no time."

She offered a weak smile and turned her face forward. But, he noted with a touch of irritation, she did not let go her hold on the edge of the carriage hood.

So much for thinking her to be what she looked—a sweet, trusting soul.

#

Two hours later, Molly sat on the green verge beside a hard, dusty road. The leaves of an oak shaded her as she watched Theo—they had progressed to first names within a half an hour, when passing through Hounslow. She had been delighted to see London streets and houses give way to countryside. They had attracted a few stares while in town—no doubt due to the smart carriage—but with leaving the city they also left behind the street gawkers and other carriages. So far only the mail coach for Bath had passed them on the road.

True to his claim, Theo did drive well. At least she thought he did. He set the pair of bays to a steady trot, easing them back when they tried to break into a canter to follow the galloping mail coach, and smoothly guiding the pair as if the reins were extensions of his arms.

With white clouds dotted the blue sky, drifting idly, rather like fat, lazy sheep, and the weather fair, Molly had begun to relax and enjoy herself.

Her companion had not much to say for himself. He stared ahead, jaw set, eyes dark, as if brooding about something—that bone of contention of his, she thought. Or perhaps the groom's insults to his skills. Shrugging off his mood, she had sat back against the padded leather cushions—the carriage rocking from the horse's brisk trot, the breeze cool on her face, ruffling the ostrich feathers against her cheek—and had given herself to the parade of aromas.

Smells of the city—horse dung, chamber pots emptied into the streets, coal fires—gave way to cut hay, cow pastures, and teasing wisps of flowery scents that she could not identify. It was new enough that she did not even mind the dust, dry as the road was from summer and a day without rain. She had been to India and back as a child, but since her return to London, she had never been further than an excursion to Richmond Park. Vague memories of her earliest years stirred of green countryside—but they slipped away.

Time slipped past fast enough as well, until, on an open stretch between any village or town, one of the horses started to bob its head. Cursing under his breath, had pulled the carriage to a halt, easing it off the road and onto the grassy verge. After jumping down from the carriage, he strode to the horses' heads, the groom already there ahead of him to hold the animals.

The two had set to arguing, blame and curses flying like smoke from cooking oil spilled onto a fire.

Molly had waited, but she had grown bored and stiff. Climbing down from the carriage, she glanced around her. The gentlemen, bent over as they were to stare at the horse's leg, had seemed not to notice and that suited her.

She had walked a bit, and found it too warm to do more, and so she had found her seat under the oak tree. And still Theo and his groom, Burke, stared at one of the horse's front legs, lifting it, putting it down, feeling down the back of it, all the time conferring in low voices, both of them frowning and looking a little guilty.

In the warmth of the sun-dappled shade, Molly's eyes began to drift closed.

"Well, he's lame!"

Eyes startled opening, Molly straightened. Theo's voice sounded tense with anger.

Arms folded, he stood next to her, glaring at the carriage where Burke had begun to unbuckle harness straps, his face set into deep, frowning lines. "Thrown a shoe, and gotten himself a stone bruise by the looks of it. Blazes, but these roads are hard as iron! I'm going to have to send Burke back to Twyford for a fresh pair."

"Won't a new shoe help?"

He glanced at her. "Did you not hear me say he'd bruised his frog with a stone?"

"Frog? I thought he was a horse?"

Theo rolled his eyes and began to drag off his driving gloves. "The frog is the soft part of a horse's hoof—could you walk after pounding your foot on a rock if all I did was to put new shoes on you? You dashed well could not. No, he'll need a few days rest. Burke will have to walk them back, and there's no telling how long it will take him to bring a fresh pair."

"Can he not ride the one horse and lead the other?"

He shot her a scornful glance and said, his tone dry, "These are carriage horses."

"Oh," she said, nodding as if this made any sense to her. The horses she recalled from her childhood in India had been trained for both riding and driving, but perhaps that was because they had all been military horses. She also had distant memories of her father taking her up before him, and her mother had ridden. But London had held no opportunity to renew any acquaintance with anything equine. One had to be rich to afford a horse.

Glanced up at Theo, she studied his scowling face. "It could be worse." He turned to her, so she offered a smile. "It could be raining."

With a sigh, he threw himself onto the grass next to her, careless of how it might stain his coat or his bluff buckskin breeches. "Or it could have been a ligament—Terrance would skin me for that. Still, it's damned nuisance. I'd hoped to make Hungerford today—and there's the cost of sound horses to be had now. I hadn't expected that. Well, I shall just have to hope I can fetch the bays back sound again before Terrance finds out."

"Would he really—skin you?"

Propping himself on his elbow, Theo took off his hat. He dragged his hand through his hair, disordering it utterly so that one black lock fell over his lined forehead. "Blister me at the least."

"Really? How awful!"

Theo lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Oh, he's a capital fellow really—quite the best of brothers. But he does have a temper worse than your own."

"I do not—that is, I don't have no temper, ducks. Least not much of one."

"Oh yes you do. Hold on a bit, Burke has them unharnessed and I'd best give him enough blunt to get a decent pair. Lord knows what we'll get, but if they're too dreadful, I can change 'em when they're blown."

He rose.

Molly watched, admiring the easy grace with which he moved. A breeze ruffled his hair like a lover's hand.

She glanced down at the hat and gloves he had left beside her. He did not wear cologne, she noted. Pulling off her own gloves, she smoothed a finger across the fine nape of the beaver-skin. He seemed a gentleman who disliked encumbrances. Was that why he wished to be rid of his inheritance?

He finished giving money and instructions to the sour-faced Burke, who grumbled words of doom for both of them when Terrance learned of this, and Burke started walking back along the road, the horses led behind him.

"Poor Burke," Molly said, as Theo stretched out in the grassy shade beside her.