Lord of Ice (10 page)

“Pardon?”

His arrogance incensed her. “For your information, I am nineteen years old and I don’t need a guardian!”

“Oh? That’s not how it looked last night. You flung yourself headlong into a highly dangerous situation. Where was your head, girl? Do you know how foolish that was? Do you have any inkling what could have happened to you if I hadn’t been there?”

She huffed and looked away. “The Mud City people never bothered me before.”

When he grasped her chin with the firm, gentle touch she remembered all too well, forcing her to look at him, she was shocked by her body’s instant feverish response to the contact of his fingertips on her skin. Her pulse fluttered in her artery as she met his gleaming silver gaze in mingled fear and desire.

“Those men would have raped you and left you for dead,” he said in a hard, quiet tone. “They got exactly what they deserved. I’m sorry you had to see it, but I don’t for one second regret what I did. Aye, especially now that I know you are mine to protect.” His light hold on her face became a caress. He trailed his knuckle along the line of her jaw, mesmerizing her with his touch. He held her in a masterful stare as his voice dropped to a lulling murmur. “You have nothing to fear, beauty. I think you and I are going to get along . . . just fine. These people don’t know how to handle you, but I know exactly what you need.”

“What’s that?” she asked in defiance. Somehow her voice came out breathlessly.

“An iron hand in a velvet glove. Yes,” he mused in a whisper, “that ought to tame your wild ways.”

She was weak-kneed with his touch. The feelings he roused in her shocked and bewildered her. The man was violence incarnate, arrogant to the point of insult, yet his touch filled her with desire.

His sensual mouth curved in a slight, wicked smile as if he knew precisely his effect on her. Seduction gleamed in his light-tricked eyes. “Run along, my pet. Don’t keep me waiting.” As he brushed by her to the door, she cursed herself for letting him get the better of her again.

He turned back to her with one hand on the doorknob, then raised his eyebrows blandly. “Is there a question?”

“I still have not agreed to any of this.”

“Your agreement would be welcome, but it is by no means necessary.”

“You cannot make me go with you against my will! You have no right to march in here giving orders and trying to take control of my life.”

“On the contrary, I have every legal right to do just that. You are under my authority until you reach the age of twenty-one. Or marry.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“You can’t stay here,” he said bluntly. “Mr. Reed has discharged you.”

“What?”
Why, that skulking pervert had already schemed to get rid of her—the one obstacle blocking his path to Amy! She clenched her jaw and looked away, her eyes blazing with fury. She knew what she had to do. If Mr. Reed wanted her out, she would go, but she was taking Amy with her, she thought in grim resolve. Together they would catch up to Mr. Chipping’s acting troupe at Leicester, the next stop on the circuit. She would accept the role of juvenile lead and would be able to support herself and Amy with her pay. But how was she to get rid of her formidable guardian first, when he appeared so staunchly determined to fulfill his duty to her uncle?

She could not simply dash away and outrun him. He was much faster and stronger than she, as his display of prowess last night had vastly proved. Indeed, she scarcely dared argue much more for fear of provoking his wrath.
Well, you are an actress, are you not?
she said to herself. She could go through the motions, make a show of obedience. When she had lulled the gray-eyed beast into a false sense of security, she would seize the first possible chance to flee back to Yardley and collect Amy; then they could catch up to Mr. Chipping’s players. With any luck, the high and mighty Colonel Lord Winterley would not deem it worth his while to keep searching for a girl who wanted no part of his boring, respectable world of rules, rules, rules.

“Now then, Miss FitzHubert,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back with an air of authority, “if you are quite through, go and get your things in order. Do be quick about it, please. Daylight is short.”

She somehow leashed her pride and nodded stiffly, giving him an outward show of submission while her mind was already churning over her escape. His eyes flickered with gratification at her obedience as he opened the door and held it for her. Miranda forced her chin up and marched past him out of the office.

In the hallway, Mr. Reed and Miss Brocklehurst came out of the parlor across the entrance hall where they had been waiting.

“We will leave as soon as Miss FitzHubert has collected her belongings,” Lord Winterley announced.

“Very good, sir,” Mr. Reed answered, looking impressed by how quickly His Lordship had managed to bring the rebel of Yardley School to heel. “Miss Brocklehurst, would you be so good as to attend FitzHubert in preparing for her journey?”

“Gladly, Reverend.”

With the thunderous Brocklehurst watching her every move, Miranda walked upstairs and into the dormitory, guarding her expression as she exchanged a glance with Amy. The child’s blue eyes were wide with worry. The other girls looked on anxiously. Miranda kept her mouth shut as she folded her few belongings and placed them in her large calfskin satchel. She did not dare produce her theater costume from beneath her straw pallet. She would have to get it later when she returned for Amy.

“If you please, Miss Brocklehurst,” Amy asked, unable to hold her tongue, “why must Miranda pack her things?”

“Because, Perkins, she is leaving Yardley today,” the woman replied in smug satisfaction.

“Because of the Wedgwood doggy?” Amy cried, aghast.

“No, Perkins. FitzHubert’s guardian has come to collect her.”

Amy looked at Miranda in panic. “Your Uncle Jason’s come at last?”

“No. He’s dead. It’s somebody else,” Miranda said tautly, then slid Amy a firm, bolstering look. “Come, Amy. We must be brave and meet our futures without trembling.”

“Dead? Oh, Miranda—but you can’t leave me!”

“That is quite enough, Perkins.”

“Sorry, Miss Brocklehurst.” Amy stifled her anxious questions, but hovered by Miranda’s elbow as she put on her ragged mantle and bonnet and slung the satchel over her shoulder.

“Come along, ladies,” the headmistress said. “You may say good-bye to FitzHubert downstairs.”

With Brocklehurst in the lead, the girls paraded sadly down the stairs, Jane and Sally following behind Miranda and Amy.

In the stairwell, Miranda put her arm around Amy and bent her head to the child’s ear. “I am coming back for you tonight,” she whispered quickly. “Don’t go to sleep—and whatever you do, don’t cross paths with Mr. Reed. You take my meaning?”

Amy nodded gravely.

“I’ll throw a pebble at the window when I come; then you must use my knotted rope to climb down.”

“Where will we go?” Amy asked, wide-eyed.

“We’ll catch up to Mr. Chipping’s players in Leicester and join the circuit.”

Amy gasped. “Do you mean it? Am I to be an actress, too?”

“Shh!” Miranda glanced over her shoulder to make sure the others hadn’t heard. “I’m sure Mr. Chipping can find you a small part every now and then. Are you game?”

“Am I?” she exclaimed. “Yes! Oh, Miranda, I can’t wait to get out of here! You are the best, dearest—”

“Hush! I know you’re excited, but you mustn’t let it show. If Reed or the head witch find out, we’re doomed. When I come, don’t forget my costume and slippers. I left them under my cot so Brocklehurst wouldn’t see.”

Amy nodded somberly, then noticed Lord Winterley standing below and let out a gasp. “Is that your new guardian? Oh, I think I shall swoon! He’s divine!”

Miranda rolled her eyes and went ahead, pulling on her gloves. Damien’s shoulders looked even wider now that he had put on his caped greatcoat. As she came to the bottom of the steps and joined him in the entrance hall, his steely gaze assessed her, impersonal as a commander’s inspecting his troops. He took her satchel from her.

“I’ve asked Mr. Reed to have the rest of your things sent to Knight House on Green Park, where you will be staying.”

“This is all I have,” she retorted, blushing at her poverty, but she lifted her chin as her bravado returned in full force.

“I see.” He turned away, appearing a trifle nonplussed. “This way, then. Unfortunately, we’ve missed the London coach from Birmingham. The whole trip is about a hundred miles, but we might as well take a small bite out of it today.”

She followed him outside, but upon stepping out into the bleak, snowy courtyard, she stopped. There was no carriage to be seen, only a large white steed that pawed the ground and snorted steam and appeared every bit as haughty and intimidating as Lord Winterley himself.

“We’ll have to share my horse until we reach Coventry,” he clipped out as he marched over to the magnificent beast and began tying her bag to the saddle.

Amy minced outside, tiptoed through the snow, and came to stand beside her with a conspiratorial giggle. The little imp looked at Damien, then at Miranda, elbowing her in the ribs.

“Stop it,” Miranda hissed.

“We should be there in two or three hours,” he continued, unaware of their exchange, for his back was to them. “We’ll take lodgings at the coaching inn. In the morning, I shall put you on the stagecoach and follow you on Zeus.” He gave the horse’s flank a hearty slap and turned back to her. “Ready?”

“I don’t ride,” Miranda said, eyeing the fierce-looking stallion in trepidation.

He shrugged. “You do now.”

Amy giggled again, drawing the colonel’s glance. When he looked at the child, Amy gave him a dimpled smile and curtseyed. He lifted one charcoal-black eyebrow in stern perplexity.

“This is Miss Perkins,” Miranda explained.

His gaze softened slightly with amusement. He gave the little girl a slight bow. “Mademoiselle.”

Amy let out a small squeal of delight and dashed back inside. Miranda looked heavenward and prayed for patience, but her guardian merely chuckled a bit. Untying the horse’s reins from the post, he swung up into the saddle.

“Come. Climb up onto the mounting block.”

Miranda grumbled in protest under her breath, but did as he said. The squat, square stone was slippery with ice. The earl guided his horse over to the mounting block and held out his hand to her, maneuvering the stirrup in her direction with the toe of his shiny black boot.

“There you are; take my hand.”

Nervously, she gripped his large, gloved hand and nudged her foot into the stirrup. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her, sidesaddle, across his lap. She held onto him for dear life while the stallion sidestepped and tossed its head impatiently, its ivory mane flying. Then, suddenly, it was time to go.

As Miranda gazed at the old, slate-roofed farmhouse and the ragged group of girls waving good-bye, a lump rose in her throat. Unhappy as she had been here, in a way, it had been home. Her life was indeed about to change, though not in the way her imperious guardian had decreed.

Without further ado, he guided the stallion out of the walled courtyard at a docile walk. They crossed the tree-lined drive, which was deep with mud, and cut across the flat, snowy field, beyond which lay the Coventry Road. As they started across the open expanse, the sun emerged for the first time seemingly in weeks.

Miranda drew in her breath as its brilliant light transformed the world around them, as though a dingy veil were being lifted from the earth, restoring the blue of the sky’s wide dome, whitewashing the snow so that it sparkled with promise anew. Damien clucked to his horse. Miranda let out a small shriek of alarm, clutching his lean waist in fright as the bone-jarring trot nearly bounced her headlong off of the horse’s back.

Damien’s soft laugh misted in a cloud around her. He tightened his hold around her midriff and urged the horse into a canter—and suddenly her fear changed to wonder. It was like flying. The horse’s strides were effortless, soaring over yards of ground. The smoothness of the swift, rocking gait made her breathless. The snow sprayed up in glittering plumes from the stallion’s mighty hoofs, while the wind from their speed nipped at her nose and cheeks, turning them rosy. Damien’s athletic body was strong and sure against her.

When she looked at him in amazement, he slipped her a devilish glance, the sun warming his vibrantly bronzed face, lighting the crystalline depths of his eyes so they turned the pale, pure blue of the sky.