In the Wake of the Wind (26 page)

Charlotte. There was another miracle in the making. The bite was gone from her tongue, along with her religious prattle—or at least most of it. Whatever Serafina had given her
for her pain was obviously working magic, for the tight lines of pain were gone from her face, letting her natural beauty show through.

“Sweetheart, about Charlotte,” he said as he turned toward the forest. “Is this oil some concoction of your aunt’s?”

“How did you know that?” she asked in alarm, her eyes widening.

“Tinkerby told me that your Aunt Elspeth is an amateur—ah, chemist,” he said carefully, unwilling to call the woman an out-and-out witch. “He said that she likes to dabble in medicines. I assumed that was the case here, and don’t mistake my meaning, for your aunt has managed to accomplish for my sister in weeks what the doctors haven’t been able to accomplish in twenty-two years.”

“Aunt Elspeth can be very gifted in her work,”
Serafina
said, relaxing. “She doesn’t always get it right, but I suppose that’s to be expected. But she’s never harmed anyone, which is why I felt sure it was safe to let her try to help Charlotte.” She licked her bottom lip. “But Aiden, I think it’s best if Charlotte doesn’t know the mixture was made by Auntie—the two of them are like oil and water, and Charlotte might decide against using it if she knew where it came from.”

“Where does she think it comes from?” he asked curiously.

“Wales. I told her it was specially made in Wales, which is perfectly true. And the ingredients are safe, just strong herbs I think. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Well, you’ve explained why Charlotte’s been smelling like the kitchen cabinet of late,” he said with a grin. “But no, I have no objection,
Serafina.
How could I? Charlotte’s a different woman thanks to you and your aunt, and I won’t say a word to her about Elspeth’s involvement.”

“Thank you. I know Auntie can be a little difficult at times, and not everyone takes to her, but she’s a good woman at heart.”

“I couldn’t agree more. After all, she brought you up.” He glanced over at his wife, wondering again at what her life with Elspeth must have been like. From what Tinkerby had said, they had lived simply, in near poverty at times, although thank God
Serafina
had never gone lacking in food, just the basic comforts he’d always taken for granted.

He still didn’t understand why Elspeth had chosen such a humble lifestyle for her niece when she’d had a huge annual income at her disposal and could easily have raised
Serafina
in luxury. He certainly didn’t understand why Elspeth not only neglected to tell
Serafina
about her fortune, but also kept her in isolation against the day that
Serafina
married him—a marriage that might easily never have come to pass.

But he doubted he’d ever fathom the old woman or what made her tick. One generally didn’t fathom loose screws. As Tinkerby said, at least she’d provided a loving home for
Serafina,
even if she had overlooked some of the finer educational points.

As a result,
Serafina
was unique and unspoiled, despite her head being filled with fanciful notions. And she was beautiful. And he wanted her.

“You’re suddenly very quiet,”
Serafina
said. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that we should attempt a trot,” he answered, as if he could outrun the heat surging through him. “Just sit the way you would if you were bareback and let the horse do the work. Can you manage that?”

“Of course,”
Serafina
said gamely, but she swallowed hard. “It’s—it’s just that I’m accustomed to using my legs.”

“Rafe
wouldn’t have sent you a horse that wasn’t trained to a sidesaddle. Don’t worry, she’ll know what to do.”

He urged his gelding forward, knowing the mare would follow. And then a sharp cry tore from Serafina’s throat and he glanced behind him in alarm, only to see the mare tearing into a full-fledged canter, racing across the field toward the forest,
Serafina
clinging to her mane.

Aiden’s heart leapt with sick panic and he kicked Aladdin into a gallop, chasing after her, terrified. The mare’s neck lowered and stretched as she picked up speed. The next thing Aiden knew, the horse had taken the stream in a wide jump and to his horror
Serafina
went flying off her back, landing in a heap on the ground.

Aiden pulled Aladdin to an abrupt stop and jumped off his back, running to Serafina’s unmoving form, his heart in his throat, terrible images flashing through his mind of finding
Serafina
dead, at best maimed. He might have been six years old again, looking at his sister’s crumpled body.

“Sweetheart,” he cried desperately, bending over her and lifting her limp body in his arms, holding her close against him.
“Serafina,
speak to me. Please, open your eyes, there’s a good girl…”

To his infinite relief she blinked and stirred, then drew in a gasp of air. “Oh,” she said, her hand going to her stomach. “I must have knocked the wind out of myself.”

Aiden buried his face in her hair, whispering all sorts of mindless stupidities, unbelievably grateful that she hadn’t managed to kill herself. “Can you move?” he asked, when he could speak coherently. He ran his hands over her legs, her arms, trying to ascertain if she’d broken anything.

“Of course I can move,” she said, wriggling in his grasp. “It’s not the first time I’ve fallen off a horse, you know.”

“Oh, God—God, you frightened me,” he said, relaxing his hold on her.

She looked up into his eyes, her own wide and soft, the color of leaf buds. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her soft lips slightly parted as she gazed at him. “I didn’t mean to.”

He couldn’t help himself. He lowered his head and kissed her hard, pouring all his relief out as he took her mouth with his, invaded her warm recesses, capturing her tongue with his own as relief changed in a heartbeat to unbridled passion.

Serafina’s arms wound around his neck and clung, her small ripe breasts pressing against his chest, inflaming him even further. His hands slid up her sides, gently stroking, his palm slipping over one sweet swell of flesh, his thumb finding her nipple and teasing it until it sprang up small and hard under his touch.

Serafina
moaned, pushing up against his hand, and Aiden dropped his head lower, his tongue tracing a line down her smooth throat, his lips settling in the apex of her throat, kissing and teasing her warm skin with his tongue.

His hands moved to the buttons on the front of her jacket and loosened them, pushing aside the material, his fingers slipping inside to caress her breast through the thin cambric of her shirt, the heat of her skin burning into his own.

Her breath quickened as her breast swelled to fit his palm, and her hips pressed against his, as if she instinctively knew what she sought.

Aiden nearly lost his mind at the sudden contact against his erect, throbbing penis. He groaned, his mouth capturing hers again, ravishing her with his tongue the way he desperately wanted to ravish the rest of her body.

And then, before he could register what had happened, she jerked away, fumbling with the buttons of her jacket, her fingers shaking. “Don’t—Raphael,” she whispered.

“Raphael?” he said in disbelief, trying to gather his addled senses. What the hell was his wife doing speaking another man’s name at a time like this? And then his ears registered the sound of hoofbeats and his head shot up.

Raphael was pounding across the field toward them, his horse kicking up clods of dirt in his haste, Serafina’s mount held by the reins, galloping along beside. He rapidly dismounted as Aiden jumped to his feet.

“What—what the hell happened?”
Rafe
said, fear written all over his face. “Is
Serafina
all right? I saw her horse on the forest path, worked into a sweat and
Serafina
nowhere to be seen.”

“She took a fall,” Aiden said tightly, trying to rein in the unwarranted jealousy that gripped at him. He couldn’t think why
Rafe
had turned white when he hardly knew
Serafina.
Or why
Serafina
had spoken his name so urgently. Or why
Rafe
looked at her now with such concern and
Serafina
looked so embarrassed.

“Oh, dear God,”
Rafe
said, dropping to his knees.
“Serafina?
You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“No, I’m fine. I wish the two of you wouldn’t leap to the worst of conclusions just because I was silly enough to take a tumble.” She looked up at Raphael with a wry smile that struck Aiden as being far too familiar.

Raphael expelled a long breath and wiped a shaking hand over his mouth. “Thank God,” he said, bowing his head. “For a moment there when I saw you on the ground … well, never mind. All’s well.”

“Of course it is,”
Serafina
said, rising and brushing her dress off. “I do understand why you’re both a little jumpy after what happened to Charlotte, but disaster doesn’t strike every single time someone falls off a horse.”

“What happened?” Raphael said, bracing his hands on his hips.

“What happened,” Aiden said coldly, annoyed by his cousin’s arrogant stance, never mind his
curt
question, “is that you gave my wife an ungovernable mount as a wedding present. What the hell where you thinking?” His head felt as if it were caught in a vise, all reason fleeing in the face-of his even more unreasonable anger. Something tugged at the corners of his mind, as if he’d been here before, spoken similar words of anger.

“But she’s a beautifully schooled mare,” Raphael said, frowning. “Truly, Aiden, she’s one of the gentlest horses I’ve ever owned.”

“It’s my fault entirely.”
Serafina
looked around for her hat. “I always race her toward the forest on this stretch, so she expected it. But this time I couldn’t use my legs to hold her in, and I didn’t want to hurt her mouth by sawing on it, so I let her run, thinking she’d stop. I’ve never taken a jump on a sidesaddle before, and I lost my balance, that’s all.” She located her hat in a clump of bush and settled it back on her head. “You can’t blame Raphael for something that was my doing,” she said, adjusting her plume.

The angry mist slowly cleared from Aiden’s eyes. “It’s a reasonable enough explanation,” he said, regretting his outburst of temper toward his closest friend. “I beg your pardon if I accused you of carelessness,
Rafe.”

“Forgotten,” Raphael said amiably. “Your concern for your wife is commendable. I’m sure I would have felt the same way in the same circumstances.”

“Speaking of circumstances,” Aiden said, still shaky not only from Serafina’s fall, but also from their encounter immediately afterward, “what fortuitous event put you on this path?”

“Actually, I was on my way to see you. I only returned today from visiting my mother in London, and she’s come up with the admirable suggestion that you and your wife come to town next week for the end of the season. She’d like to introduce
Serafina
on your behalf.”

Aiden gaped at his cousin, knowing perfectly well that not only was Raphael fully informed as to the unfortunate circumstances of his marriage, but that the dowager duchess also had full knowledge. Further, Raphael had attended the wedding and seen Serafina’s lack of manners for himself. “Why?” he asked bluntly.

“Because my mother is a kind woman who happened to be exceeding fond of your mother, and she’s even managed a little fondness for you,”
Rafe
answered dryly. “She believes that a brief presentation would go far in stilling the loose gossip running about town. And it would also do you good, Aiden, to make a strong appearance, since the gossip includes the Delaware misfortunes. I believe that you and
Serafina
can accomplish a great deal in showing your faces now, rather than later.”

Aiden considered. Raphael had a point. He’d already had a taste of censure on his last trip to London, and he hadn’t enjoyed it. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

“Not to put too fine a point on the matter, but my mother’s patronage as well as my own will go a long way toward mending matters. I wouldn’t delay, Aiden. Your father already made a hash of things a few months ago by running about and asking every acquaintance he knew for funds when he could find them nowhere else, and you know how well that washes.”

Aiden grimaced, a fresh coil of anger fastening around his heart. “Wonderful.” He sighed heavily, understanding Rafe’s meaning perfectly clearly and seeing no way out. “Very well. Next week it is.”

“Aiden?” Serafina’s voice came softly at his shoulder. “May I have a word with you?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, Serafina’s plight immediately apparent. “I should have asked you first. If you’d rather not go, I won’t ask it of you.”

“That’s not what I wanted to speak to you about,” she said, fiddling with her gloves. “I just thought that if we have to go, you might consider bringing your father along. In his improved condition he can probably help to repair the damage.”