Lady Star (18 page)

“Aye,” said another man, “But the young lord,
he won’t come across, will he?”

“Oh, won’t he just? We’ll see,” Farley
retorted.

“That ain’t good enough, Farley,” said yet
another man.

 Farley could see they were greatly
dissatisfied. He held up his hands and shook his head at them,
“Thinking ye can do better without me? Go on then…go…
do
better.”

The men started shouting at one another,
settled down and grumbled that they didn’t think they could.

“Right ye are. Ye are nothing without me and
my planning, and me…Oi got a plan,” Farley said.

“Whot plan? Maybe it’s time we signed on with
the
gentlemen
…and hit the seas. There is always some money
to be had in that quarter.”

“Go on then, clunch. Reckon ye be ready for
the brine? Oi’m thinking none of ye be sailors.” Farley scoffed at
them and drank down his ale before leveling an eye at them one and
all. “Oi gots a plan and never ye mind asking whot it is.”

“Whot ye be wanting us to do in the
meantime?” asked a quiet man eyeing him thoughtfully.

“Ally, me man, ye’ve always trusted me. Oi
wants me boys to lay low and Oi’m looking to ye to see to it that
is whot they does.”

They agreed to it and he sat back and watched
them rise and shuffle out of the inn. He had in fact, not been
bluffing as some of his men thought. He had a plan and it centered
around Star Berkley, the young lord’s sister.

In fact, he knew it hadn’t been any male
relative of Vern’s that night in the inn. He knew the only relative
that resembled him in the immediate area was his sister. Aye then,
she had dressed up like a lad and passed herself off as a
cousin—fine. He couldn’t prove otherwise, but he still meant to use
it as far as he could. He hadn’t worked out all the details in his
head, but he meant to and soon.

* * *

Star looked out the window as she finished
cleaning the morning room. She wiped her hands on her apron and
looked out on the large panoramic view which encompassed the long
winding front drive. The day was bright and sunny and Star was
restless.

Just after Georgie had left some hours ago,
she had looked in on Vern, who she was pleased to find was feeling
much better. He was, however, in a horrible mood, foretelling a
future of doom and gloom and she had hurriedly left him saying she
would look in on him later.

It was time she headed to the stables, she
told herself. What she needed was a ride. What did it matter if
there was more dusting to do? It would be there when she returned.
She took off her apron and picked up her kid gloves from the round
table in the central hall and out she went.

It was a warm day, so she didn’t bother with
a hat as she went outdoors and took a long gulp of the lovely fresh
air. A short walk brought her to the barn where she found Jeffries
mucking out a stall.

He stopped and smiled at her, “Well now, Miss
Star, it looks to me like ye be wanting to ride. Shall I fetch
Butch for ye?”

“No, no, I’ll get him.” This would be good
for her, she thought. Perhaps maybe a ride would wipe away all
thoughts of Sir Edward and his damnable kisses. Perhaps.

She found her chestnut gelding in the nearby
pasture and he snorted when he saw her. She laughed and took up a
bucket of grain to coax him to her. It worked, he came trotting
happily up to her and took a mouthful from the bucket while she
hooked up a lead line to his halter and led him out of the gate to
the hitching post where she had left her tack.

A few moments later with bridle and saddle in
place, she hoisted herself up, patted Butch’s fine neck and smiled
to see his ears twitch as she spoke to him, “Right, let’s wind it
and forget all about Sir Edward, eh?”

She walked him sedately for a moment across
the pasture and easily trotted up to the line fence taking him over
lightly and easily. He landed perfectly as he enjoyed jumping and
was good at it. “Now, boy…now,” she said and squeezed him into an
easy canter.

The breeze against her cheeks felt wonderful
and she laughed right out loud, as riding was one of her favorite
activities. Feeling the strength of her horse, and his willingness
to please gave her joy as she put turf behind her and marked a
trail toward nowhere in particular.

She made her mind a blank, or so she thought,
until she gazed around and frowned. She pulled a face and said
aloud, “Star, what have you done?” She had ridden toward the
Stamford estate. It was of course, an easy thing to do as his land
bordered hers, but she could have just as easily gone in the
opposite direction.

Indeed, had she come this way purposely? Was
she that far gone already? Her frenzied night had left her
uncertain and confused.

What did she really feel? Was it lust? He
certainly made her want more, so much more than a peck on the lips.
His tongue melding with her own had set her on fire. His touch—his
expert touch on her breast, the way he moved her against him. It
made her want him to explore her in ways she should reserve for a
husband. A husband. She wanted Sir Edward to bear that title.

He made her wonder about what it would be
like to watch him touch her. She wanted him to look at her, openly
admire her—all of her, without clothes between them.

Had he simply been dallying with her? Had he
been bored and found her nothing but a diversion? He could seduce
any woman he chose. He had the charm, the looks, and the style of a
mesmerizing rogue. Was that all he had done—dallied with her? Did
it mean nothing to him? No doubt he forgot the feel of her in his
arms as soon as he left her.

Was that it? Had he been seducing a willing
woman? She
had
been willing, so very willing. Did she want
him more than she wanted respectability?

At first, alone in her room, remembering the
look in his eyes, the curve of his luscious mouth, she had believed
otherwise. She had for some moments after their intimacy, after he
had left her, convinced herself that he did indeed feel something
for her. Now, in the light of day, she was no longer so sure.

Perhaps she was projecting her own feelings
onto him?

What—just what was she going to do? He hadn’t
come to Rye to become involved with a country Miss who looked more
roughneck than woman. She was a pauper, though her name was old and
aristocratic, she had no dowry. He could have anyone. Why would he
want her?

When would he leave, and how would she cope
when he was gone?  

* * *

Farley came to attention.

He had been sitting his horse and thinking of
taking off his wool riding jacket. The day was warm and he was
beginning to sweat.

He had been watching Berkley Grange in hopes
that he might find Star Berkley out for a ride. It was a feeble
plan, but as it turned out, it had come to fruition.

Damn, but she was a stately wench! With a
body like that, how could she have passed herself off as a lad?
Perhaps he was wrong after all? Even in her old faded blue gown,
she looked a beauty of a lady!

He clucked to his horse and steered him
forward and away from the tall evergreen he had been using as
cover. His animal was nothing in looks to what she was riding, but
then, he hadn’t chosen his horse for looks, but for speed.

He may not have been born and raised a
gentleman, but, he wasn’t a fool, either. He had left the orphanage
when he was ten years old and he had never looked back. He had
learned to be a pickpocket from the best of ‘em, and when he didn’t
get enough of a cut from the bloke who fed him for his efforts, he
had struck out on his own. He had always been a loner and a leader.
He didn’t like to lose and now it was a matter of pride that he
beat the young lord at his game. The Berkley wench was the way to
it.

He took the open field diagonally for he
meant to catch up to her and cut her off.

He was a daring one, he told himself and
grinned broadly. What would the young lord do when he was told that
she had been accosted in the open? “Aye,” he said to the wind. “Oi
reckon he’ll dance to m’tune then, won’t he though?” He clucked to
his horse and kicked him harder than was necessary. He hadn’t a
heart—no feeling for anything or anyone and he was proud of it. Why
should he? No one ever had heart for him. Instead, he discovered
that he liked inflicting pain on others, anyway he could. He liked
the notion that they would hurt the way he had hurt when he was
young. In his mind, it made matters even.

He watched the Berkley chit take a fence and
for a moment he lost sight of her over the slope of the rolling
hill. He pointed his poor animal in the fence’s direction and took
it with little grace, landing hard on the horse’s kidneys. His
horse made a sound and dipped, but he yanked hard on the reins
bringing the horse’s head up and forced him forward, cropping him
hard and sharply for more speed. “Aye,” he murmured, “There ye be
missy…
there ye be.”

* * *

“Well, this is turning out to be quite a
morning,” Sir Edward told his horse as he trotted toward the open
gate to Stamford’s back pastures.

He had left his buckskin riding coat at the
barn as it was a sultry day and the breeze felt good against the
open neckline of his white shirt.

His mind had been racing all night and sleep
had been impossible. He hoped the ride would dissipate the cobwebs
taking over his brain. Fate, he decided, was a trickster and no
doubt a female. Fate had brought him to Rye. Fate had made him run
into his good friend and fate had plopped a woman-child, a hoyden,
a rough and tumble beauty to play with his resolves to avoid any
entanglement at this stage of his life.

He had played at love and had lost badly only
a short time ago. He didn’t want to get involved and here he
was…what? Involved?

His pride had been wounded by the Lady Babs
and although he had, and surprisingly so, quickly recovered from
the experience, he had no wish to repeat it.

Jules still seemed to think Star was the
light in his eyes, yet he rather doubted it. Jules had rebounded
from his sad affair also only a short time ago. Edward was certain
Star was only a diversion for his friend and just as certain that
Jules’s attention was already turning elsewhere.

Right then, why shouldn’t he enjoy the dark
eyed beauty? Her kisses were delicious and there was no denying
that when his lips touched hers, something beyond his imagination
had been ignited in him. What was that? It hadn’t been the same
with Lady Babs. She had said he had yet to fall in love and that he
would know it when it happened. Was this love?

He had not wanted to stop kissing Star. He
had wanted to go on touching her and for a moment, he thought he
would bed her right there in the library on the Oriental rug.

He was jolted out of this reverie by his
horse when he jerked his head and pulled on the reins for a run.
Edward laughed and patted his neck, “There now, easy lad.”

Wanting to stretch, his horse pranced in
place as though begging for release and Sir Edward sighed and said,
“Oh very well, you want a run, eh? So be it.”

They took off across the grassy field and
Prancer feeling his oats, jumped in the air with a back kick in
show of exuberant spirits.

“Aye,” Sir Edward chuckled as he brought him
back under him and settled him into a trot. “That was grand and
just for fun, eh? Perhaps that is all this is…this feeling I have
for the pretty Star—just for fun?”

At that moment, the woman he had been
thinking of every waking moment, came into view. He could clearly
see her piquant beautiful face, her flaxen hair windblown and
framing her loveliness. All at once and with a certainty he could
almost see, he knew he wanted her back in his arms. He wanted her
lips against his own, her tongue dancing with his and her body.

Damn, but that way led to trouble. She was
gentry. He couldn’t bed her and move off. Bedding her would lead to
marriage and he was not yet certain that she was the one…was he?
Perhaps this was all an illusion?

He turned his horse away. Better not ride
toward her…safer to keep away from her.

* * *

Star pulled her horse up to a total stop.
Jules Stamford’s estate was not far now. Why oh why had she ridden
in this direction? Even if Edward did miracously appear on
horseback, what would he think? What could he think, but that she
had come to see him…and he would feel hounded. She was in fact,
hounding him, riding here hoping to catch him up. She should wait
until he came to Berkley to find her. That was what she should
do.

She turned her horse about and started for
the deer path that led to the bordering wooded trails. Nothing for
it but to return home. She had just gone over the ridge of the hill
once again and stopped short, but for a very different reason.

She couldn’t believe it and sat her Butch for
a moment as she composed herself. Slowly, she moved her free hand
beneath her skirt and retrieved the little pistol from its strap
around her leg, a promise she had made to Vern recently to keep it
near when riding alone.

She was surprised that Farley would dare
approach her during the daylight and waited, wondering what he was
about to do.

Farley displayed his toothless grin as he
slowly walked his horse directly at her and Star felt a tension
rivet her spine. She wouldn’t show him that she was afraid. She
would stand ready to shoot him if need be. She had never shot
anything but targets in her life. Could she shoot a man? She would
have to shoot to kill, because if she didn’t, Farley would turn
into an enraged animal and come at her in the future. She had to be
resigned to hold her ground and take him unawares, for she was sure
he was up to no good.

As he got closer to her, he draped the reins
of his horse across his saddle, leaned forward and tipped his
woolen cap at her, making a show of bowing his head. As he
straightened up he said, “Well and good day to ye, Miss Berkley.
Fine bright afternoon, is it not?”