Teach Me Under the Mistletoe (3 page)

Their footsteps made soft slapping sounds as they crossed the terrace to one of the stone benches overlooking the reflecting pool. The course he’d just agreed to embark upon was ludicrous. Madness. Not only might it get him released from employment, quite possibly it could mean his death if the wrong person took umbrage.

From what man did Lady Caroline seek attention?

Did it matter? Regardless of for whom she had set her cap, Hugh had no business being alone with her. Certainly, he shouldn’t be escorting her on his arm. Except for assisting her in and out of the carriage when no footman was in attendance, he shouldn’t be touching her at all.

Lady Caroline sank onto the stone bench and folded her hands in her lap. It was the way a proper lady sat, he knew, but she couldn’t have aroused more salacious thoughts had she tried. Mud smeared one cheek. He must have brushed against her when he caught her. His body heated and thrummed at the memory of her softness against him. Hugh yanked his gaze from the lady and stepped away from the bench. Best if he kept his distance.

“What draws ye to this man whose attention ye desire?” he asked, staring out at the glinting water. The clear autumn sky lent its hue to the pool, which faithfully reflected the sapphire blue tones. Trees that had dropped their glorious cloaks of orange and yellow foliage a month or so earlier now stood guard as little more than gray spikes, their feet cloaked in layers of shiny green holly bushes.

From behind him, Lady Caroline spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear. “I… can’t rightly say. He has a way… something about him I find… I can’t say…”

“And he’s turned ye down, yet ye pursue him?” Was the man so daft he couldn’t see the gentle vulnerability in the lady’s soft hazel eyes? The sweetness behind her regal façade? Who could look at Lady Caroline and not want to be part of her life?

Careful, man, lest you aspire to wanting someone far above your lot.
He shoved the warnings of his conscience aside. Of course, he was aware of their respective classes. He wasn’t likely to forget their differences. He liked Lady Caroline was all. She deserved happiness.

The squawking greylag had been joined by several domestic white geese, and all now swam single file across the center of the pond, pleating the water’s mirrorlike surface with dozens of ripples in their wake. With a frown, Hugh realized that Lady Caroline had not answered his last question. He spun about to find her gaze locked on the stone terrace at her feet.

“Lady Caroline?” he asked, speaking to her in soft tones, the way he and Dougal had been taught by their father to speak to the horses they trained.

When she looked up, her eyes reflected brightly with unshed tears. “In truth, I do not believe the man has ever noticed me…” She touched her tongue to her lips. Oh, how he wished she would stop doing that. “The gentleman seems to prefer the company of more stylish women. Those of a more… er worldly knowledge.”

Hugh couldn’t quite grasp her meaning, unless she was saying— “Ye mean he prefers the company of whores?” He hadn’t intended to blurt out the question.

Lady Caroline’s eyes widened as she gasped in shock. Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him. “I— No! Certainly not! That’s not at all what I meant!” She pushed to her feet. “Lord Strathern would nev—” She pressed her fingers to her lips. The ivory of her gloves actually appeared a bit dark against her blanched skin. When she dropped her hand, she drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “The gentleman has no — need of that sort… of — of
that
. And if he had, well then I would not… would not—”

“My apologies, Lady Caroline. I misunderstood your words.” Heat rose from beneath Hugh’s collar, threatening to scorch him with his embarrassment. “I meant no disrespect.” At least no disrespect of
her
. He’d reserve judgment for Lord Strathern after he figured out who the deuce he was.

“Of course not,” she murmured. A pale blush eased some color back into her cheeks. “I fear I’ve made an irrational request of you. We should return to Rose Hill.”

But she made no move to rise.

She had the right of it. They should leave. Against all reason, Hugh found his feet carrying him over the stone terrace toward the lovely young lady who had enlisted his aid. When he stood before her, he tugged his battered work gloves off and dropped them at his feet. Then he held out his right hand.

Lady Caroline’s lips parted, and she stared at his hand, her eyes as wide as those on a startled deer. Just as he thought she might refuse him, she laid her hand across his palm. Taking great care, he lightly closed his fingers around hers and drew the lady to her feet.

Hugh paused, giving her plenty of time to pull away. She did not. Gently, he brushed two fingers across the smudge on her face but gave up when he only smeared it. Moving slowly, he bent and brushed his lips over hers in a feather-light kiss.

Her lips stirred beneath his, and she balanced herself with a hand at his waist as she leaned closer. Heat from her body sent warmth washing through him. Only with the greatest effort did he restrain his baser instincts. But the hunger gnawed at him, tempted him, showed him the emptiness he’d long felt inside. If he stepped closer, held her against him just so… if he deepened the kiss, who would be the wiser? Only the two of them would know, and he didn’t think she would tell anyone. He moved closer, reveling in the sparks of awareness that charged the air between them.

Out on the pond, the geese took up a dreadful racket. Amid the honks and splashes, sanity doused him with cold reality. Hugh stepped back and pulled in a shaky breath, released it. Words eluded him as he stared at her softened features. Her lips, full and inviting. Her eyes, heavy-lidded and dazed.

“Is that how a man wants to kiss?” she whispered then laid her fingers across her mouth.

Hugh swallowed. “
That
is how every man should
want
to kiss
you
,” he corrected. Then he stepped back and retrieved his gloves from the ground. “You were wrong,” he said, drawing on first one and then the other. “You have no need to learn how to kiss a man.” Turning on his heel, he then walked away, praying for the strength to make it to the carriage.

Chapter Three

Kitty didn’t wait for Hugh to assist her from the curricle. As soon as it stopped in the stable yard, she fairly tumbled from the seat and raced across the lawn. She no longer cared who might see her, though she supposed she ought to.

She slowed her steps as she reached the imposing red brick and sandstone manor. Drawing in several gulps of air as she headed for the front door, she made an effort to compose herself. It was far too late to be slipping in through the back entrance. If her mother happened upon her emerging from the narrow servants’ staircase, she would know instantly that Kitty had sneaked out and no respite would be found until Lady Louise knew the reason.

She could hardly confess to her mother that she’d engaged the services of a groom to teach her how to kiss.

That kiss…
Her lips tingled, and she licked them in a fruitless attempt to wipe away the memory. As she inched open the front door, it suddenly gave way to reveal a footman on the other side. Kitty bit off a squeal of surprise. “Thank you, Thomas.”

A quick glance around revealed the foyer was otherwise empty. With a little good fortune, Warwick wouldn’t materialize from the shadows as was oft his habit. The butler would report to her mother, almost as though he considered himself Louise Tyndall’s second pair of eyes. No one appeared as Kitty tripped up the marble staircase rising from the center of the hallway, nor as she fled along the corridor to her rooms. But only when she was safely inside, with her back pressed against the door, did she pause for a breath.

Thoughts of Hugh McCollum resurfaced. What had he meant by his cryptic remark that men should want to kiss like that? His kiss had devastated her inside. The heat that had engulfed her body, the indecent thoughts that had crowded her mind… Of course, all men should want to kiss like that if they also suffered from such wicked thoughts assaulted them as well! They were licentious, sinful… She shivered. And delightfully so.

He hadn’t spoken a word on the way back to Rose Hill. So many questions had plagued Kitty, but she’d been afraid to voice them. Had she kissed well? Did he like it? Had her response been sophisticated enough?

She unbuttoned her coat and glanced down at her riding habit. Despite her efforts to keep it from dragging on the ground, she’d managed to acquire a thick coating of mud along the hem. Sighing, she shrugged out of her coat and then pulled the bell cord to summon her maid, Henrietta. Thoughts of a bath filled her with longing. To relax in the delicious warmth of a good soak and ponder her first kissing lesson. Well, likely first and last, given the man’s reaction…

Kitty touched the tip of a finger to her lips with a slight frown. Had she been so horrible that the thought of continuing had put him off? But no, hadn’t he told her she had no need of lessons after all? A smile plucked at her mouth. That meant she must have been good.

Mayhap even very, very good.

She stooped and unfastened her half boots then slipped them off. Goodness, they were muddy also. At the knock on the door, she called out a greeting and then turned to her wardrobe.

“You are in so much trouble,” said Jenny from the door. “Especially if Mama and Papa catch you sneaking out on your own.”

Kitty whirled around. Her sister stood, arms folded across her chest, head angled, wearing her inquisitor expression. The rose pink morning gown contrasted nicely with Jenny’s perfect peach-and-cream complexion.

“You saw?”

Jenny’s laugh reminded Kitty of a thousand small silver bells, clear pitched and pleasantly soft. “Saw you leave? Are you mad? I have no doubt you took yourself out long before any of us had roused from our rooms.” She stepped through the door and shut it behind her. “Well? Where did you go? Are you meeting someone? A secret suitor perhaps?”

Kitty covered her annoyance with a giggle. “If you can call Patty a suitor, I suppose. How… how did you know I had gone out if you didn’t see me?”

“Dear sister, I said I didn’t see you leave. I did, however, come upon the evidence of your return.” She nodded at Kitty’s muddy boots. “Mrs. Beecham was beside herself at the tracks in the foyer, ordering poor Effie to hurry and fetch a mop and bucket and re-do the floors until they sparkle.”

Kitty’s heart sank with dismay. Was there any hope her mother wouldn’t hear of her leaving muddy tracks through the house?

“Oh, don’t look so edgy. I’m here to help you dispose of the evidence.” Clicking her tongue, she stooped and picked up Kitty’s boots. “I’ll take your riding habit, too.” She gestured toward the door. “Hurry! Before Mama hears about the floor and comes looking for you.”

It took Kitty less than a heartbeat to begin working the fastenings on her clothing. “Why are you helping me?”

Jenny’s smile turned predatory. “Because one day I may need
your
help.” Then she laughed again. “And because you’re my sister and I love you. Now, come on. I know you rang for Henrietta.”

How did her sister always know everything? Standing in just her thin undergarments, Kitty bundled her riding habit into a ball and thrust it at Jenny.

“Good.” Jenny paused with her hand on the door. “And don’t forget to wash the mud off your face.”

With a gasp, Kitty leaned forward to peer into the oval mirror standing next to the dressing table. Twin streaks of mud decorated her right cheek. A twig clung to her tangled hair just above her left ear. Memories of Hugh’s warm fingers touching her face.
Oh, dear…
“I slipped earlier. I must have…” She turned away from the mirror only to discover her sister had left the room. At least she hadn’t demanded an explanation. Kitty turned back to the mirror and began to scrub at her face.

“You rang for me, Lady Caroline?” Henrietta asked in her gentle voice as she stepped into the room.

Kitty dropped her hand and turned with a smile. “Yes, I need to wash up before I dress for the afternoon.” A bath would certainly be out of the question at this point, since it would draw unwanted attention from her mother.

* * * *

Hugh stepped into the stable office, hoping to find a moment to recover his faculties. What was he thinking going along with Lady Caroline’s request? He stopped short in the doorway at the sight of his brother hunched over the writing table on the far side of the room.

“Where did ye take yourself off to?” asked Dougal without looking up from the leather-bound journal in which he was writing. “I could have used yer assistance getting Maleek back in his stall.”

“Lady Caroline asked for the curricle to be prepared,” mumbled Hugh, staring at the toes of his worn boots. “And then she asked me to take her round to see Vicar Pratt’s wife.”

Dougal shook his head and shut the journal with a sigh. “Mr. Jenkins should have taken her in the phaeton.”

Hugh swallowed and nodded, not trusting himself to answer. He glanced through the door toward the rear of the stable. Perhaps he might find relief from his riotous emotions working one of the horses. He eased back a step. Then another. “I’ll see to exercising the other horses.”

“Hugh.”

The quiet authority in Dougal’s voice halted Hugh’s escape and he sighed. “Yes?”

Dougal angled a sharp glare across the room. “I don’t have to remind you how fortunate we are to have found employment.”

“No,” murmured Hugh, scuffing the toe of his boot in the dust on the plank floor. “No, ye don’t.”

“Then watch yerself, brother.” Dougal raised an eyebrow, obviously awaiting a response.

“Nothing to watch,” muttered Hugh. “Lady Caroline requested my help with an errand is all.” He spun on his heel and stalked from the room. As he passed one of the stable’s central pillars, he smacked it with his fist. A harness fell from one of the hooks but he didn’t stop to retrieve it. Let the almighty Dougal come upon it and put it back up.

Once through the stable’s rear door, the chilly air slapped icy fingers across his face. Hugh sucked in a deep breath. Leave it to his brother to remind him of their current prospects or the reason they found themselves in dire straits. Hugh kicked at the muddy ground. Blast it all.
He
hadn’t been the one to offend Lady Braithwaite by rebuffing her offer of a dalliance while her husband was taken abed with age and infirmity. Not that he blamed Dougal, though. Hugh frowned and set his foot on the lower rail of the fence and stared at the empty paddock. The woman had been half again Dougal’s age and married to a man twice
her
age to boot.