Scandalous Endeavors (Ladies and Scoundrels Book 1) (14 page)

SCANDALOUS ENDEAVORS

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Are you not
the least bit curious why I need to get home?” Richard looked at her with one dark brow raised.

Amelia glanced away without so much as shaking her head. Truth be told, she would love to know why he insisted on dragging her across England, but not so badly that she would be willing to speak to him. Maybe she was being a tad childish. She did not want to marry him, so why should she care if he kissed her or not?
Because he makes my body feel alive, I miss him when he leaves me alone, and my composure shatters easily in his presence.
She blinked her eyes and took a deep breath as she pushed the thoughts away.

“Yes, I suppose I would like to know what the emergency is.” She pulled Ruby’s reins, bringing the horse to a slow gait. He slowed his mount as well before he regarded her. His eyes seemed darker now, and a look of worry overtook his features, a deep frown creasing his handsome face.

“There has been an accident at my shipyard. One of the ships got destroyed and several of my workers are injured. Two died.” He turned his attention back to the road.

“I...my condolences.” She should have known he would not drag her off without good cause. She had been acting the perfect brat with no regard for him. “Your Grace, Richard, I am truly sorry for being so resistant and making things harder on you. But I must ask why we are traveling by horse when you own a shipyard? Would you not arrive faster by ship or rail?” She smiled with sincerity and hoped her question did not cause him undue stress.

“Our horses move faster and can travel straighter. As for ships, I build them, I do not sail them.” He pushed Thunder back into a fast gallop.

Nudging Ruby with her heels, she urged the horse to catch up as she leaned down close to its neck. The sound of hoof beats pounded the road and filled the air around them as they raced across the terrain. When she slowed her horse to a walk, he followed suit, and the rhythm of hammering hooves faded, replaced with the sound of their laughter.

The baritone of his deep chuckle invaded her senses, causing her spirits to soar. She focused on him, a genuine look of delight upon her face. “I won.”

“I let you win.” His teasing voice caused a fresh laugh to bubble up in her.

“Sounds like you are challenging me to another race. You say when, and once I win, you must reward me.” She could not hold back her whimsical laughter when one of his dark brows shot up quizzically.

“My lady, I find you quite perplexing. You are a puzzle I intend to solve.”

She giggled and moved her focus elsewhere.

Dark smoke billowed across the horizon, a thick haze stomping out the sun’s rays. She pointed into the distance. “Take a gander, there near the horizon. What do you suppose it is?”

He turned his head in the direction she indicated. “Looks like a fire.”

“What shall we do? It is in our path. What if we cannot continue past it? What if someone is hurt? It may--”

“There is but one way to know. We must continue on. If it presents a danger to us, we will change our course.” He grinned at her reassuringly. “More likely than not, it is a structure burning, and you are correct, people may need our help.”

She nodded in agreement before racing down the dirt road next to him. Curiosity drove her as she listened to the melodic sound of horseshoes beating the hard dirt road beneath them. Her eyes stayed focused on the black swirling smoke that beckoned for her to come nearer as her pulse hammered in her veins. After what seemed like hours, the full situation unveiled itself when a burning cottage came into view.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. A frantic woman clad in a plain dress and covered in soot screamed from the side yard of the inferno. Her unbound hair hung down her back with pieces sticking up all over her head. Behind her, flames leaped into the air, bursting through the roof in an eerie orange and amber dance.

“Me son is still inside! Oh lord, please help my baby,” the woman bellowed as she slid to the ground, burying her blackened face against the lush green grass.

Her cries vibrated through Amelia, propelling her into action. She slid down from Ruby’s saddle and went to the woman’s side, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. The grass felt cool beneath her skirts while the air burned her face. She glanced back at the horses. Richard had already dismounted. She could not see him anywhere. Frantically, she continued searching, trying desperately to locate him and focus through the woman’s blood-curdling screams. Panic gripped her heart when she saw him disappearing into the hellish cottage. She pushed it away, turning her focus to the disheveled woman.

“Come away from the fire, miss. The duke has gone in to rescue your son. It will do no good to have you out here getting hurt,” Amelia cajoled the woman as she tried to guide the distraught mother up from the ground.

The woman made no effort to move. “My baby, oh my precious son.”

Amelia wrapped her arms around the woman and tugged upward. “You must trust his grace; he’ll save your baby. Now be strong for your son and stand up.”

With a bit more tugging, the woman rose and allowed Amelia to guide her away from the cottage. Once they reached a safer location near the meadow’s edge, Amelia allowed the soot-covered woman to collapse back onto the ground. Again she positioned herself next to the woman, placing an arm about her shaking shoulders. Amelia’s attention left the woman as her stare riveted on the blazing scene. The woman’s cries faded into the background as Amelia’s thoughts focused on Richard.

Lord, please deliver him from the firestorm. Bring him out safely with the child in hand. Amen
, she prayed reverently, never allowing her gaze to leave the cottage. The sizzling and crackling of the fire filled every particle of her body as the woman continued to weep and mumble at her side.

Suddenly, the flames jumped higher. The air filled with a large crashing sound. A horrid scream reached Amelia’s ears as she stood to race toward the collapsed cottage. Whether it originated from her own throat or the peasant woman’s, she could not say. She ran as fast as she could before she collapsed near the burning structure. Her shoulders shook as she lay crumpled and sobbing on the ground mere feet from the destroyed cottage. Tears blazed hot trails down her cheeks while she stared at the crumbled facade.

“Lady Amelia, what are you doing? Stand up! Get away from the fire!”

Richard’s voice came to her like a song. Bolting to her feet, she stepped backward and searched the surrounding area for him. He appeared from beside the desecrated cottage, soot coating every inch of his magnificent body. Amelia flew into his arms and wrapped both of hers around his neck. “Oh thank God you are alive.” She nuzzled her head into his chest, smashing the infant he held between them. “I thought I lost you.”

“You still might if we do not move.”

She allowed him to lead her away from the cottage, her hand tucked under his arm. When the babe’s mother saw them, she stood up, but did not move. She appeared like a statue, silent, stiff, and unyielding. Then, almost at her side, the baby let loose a ferocious cry that brought its mum quickly to their side.

She took the bundle from Richard and studied the child for a moment before cradling him near her bosom. “Thank you, me lord. If not for ye, he would surely have perished in the fire. I owe ye a great debt.” She clumsily curtsied.

“No thanks required, ma’am. I only did what I knew to be necessary and right. You owe me nothing.”

Before more could be said, Amelia wrapped her free arm around him. She stared deeply into his eyes and welcomed the now-familiar sensations that washed through her. “Hold me.” The shakiness of her voiced surprised her.

He obliged, wrapping her in his safe embrace. All of her previous anxieties melted away as his warmth infiltrated her. The hammering of his heart below his well-muscled chest filled her ears, comforting her soul. He smelled of smoke and soot and his clothes were filthy, but none of it mattered. She snuggled closer, meshing their bodies together. She had fallen in love with the duke.

“Is there some place we can take you, ma’am?

His words were like a comforting hug to her soul. She looked at the woman. “Perhaps a friend or relative lives nearby?”

The woman never took her eyes from the child. “My sisters, her cottage is about a mile up the road.”

Amelia rode with Richard, relishing every moment of being in such close contact as they escorted the woman and her child to a relative’s home. Still, a small part of her wanted distance and clarity. She needed to think, to figure out her future. It simply wasn’t possible to do so while seated across the duke’s lap, all the while fighting her old desires and new revelation. How could she think of marrying an English lord when the Scottish lord her body and soul cried out for was pressed against her? Did she even want to marry an English lord now that she had fallen in love with Richard?

* * * *

Upon their arrival, the woman’s relatives extended an offer for supper and a room for the evening. Richard declined in favor of trying to regain some of the time they had lost. They did, however, accept fresh clothing and the opportunity to wash away the soot from their faces and hands. Amelia embraced the opportunity to shed her mourning weeds. She liked the idea of the duke seeing her as more than a woman in mourning. After much ado, they departed in commoners’ garb and made haste toward the horizon. Richard hoped to reach Sheffield by nightfall.

She hardly recognized herself draped in a common dress of low-quality burgundy fabric and swooning over a Scotsman. Her hungry eyes drifted down his form as she admired the angle of his waist, rounded bottom, and strong thighs. She could no longer deny she wanted him. Falling in love with him complicated things further. If only she were a different person with different responsibilities, then she would be free to pursue him, but alas, she could not change a thing. He did not want her at any rate. He certainly did not love her.

Ripping her gaze from his backside, she urged Ruby into a trot. Realizing the rogue had stolen her heart changed nothing. The sooner she married an Englishman, the better. She could forget the duke and move on with her life.

She studied him once again, her heart and mind locked in battle. How had she been so careless as to fall for him? There was no use in pondering it. She would enjoy what time she had with him, and do what she must when he sent her away. A mischievous grin curved her lips.

“Do you suspect we will make Sheffield before nightfall?”

“Do not worry, my dear. It is but a few miles down the road.”

“I am not worried, just curious.” She flashed a flirtatious smile in his direction, anticipation tickling her spine. He would not deny her tonight. She would not allow it.

The wind freed strands of her hair and whipped her skirts around as she nudged Ruby into a fast trot. She glanced over her shoulder at Richard, who rode a few paces behind.

“What is Scotland like?” she yelled over her shoulder.

“That depends on where you go. My castle is near the English border and so my area of Scotland is very much like your beloved England.” He winked roguishly.

Heat spread through her as she looked away. Scotland like England... Could it be?