Tempted (12 page)

“My father hated that horse, but I told him I’d take care of it. Feed it. Clean up after it. Whatever I had to do to keep him. And I did, too, working odd jobs for anyone I could find, in between taking care of my brothers. ’Course, once I started making some blunt, my dad demanded I give it to him. But I learned to hold back just enough to buy food and oats for my horse. And when Admiral—that’s what I named him because he had so many battle scars—when Admiral got strong enough, I began to ride him.” Her smile grew wistful. “The first time, m’lord, is a day I shall never forget.”

And all he did was stare, marveling that she would consider riding a sway-backed old nag one of her life’s greatest pleasures. That she should have gone to work at the tender age of ten, when the young ladies of his social set were still sitting at their governess’s knee. That she thought nothing of the obvious squalor and strife that she’d endured as a child. But most of all, that she’d managed to mature into a woman with a sense of humor and a zest for life that was evident in her every word.

“Do you still have him?”

What a silly question. Of course she didn’t still have him; he knew it the moment her smile snuffed out.

“He died.”

“Died? How?”

She shrugged, her happy smile falling away like old timbers. “He was a horse. They die.”

There was more to the story than that, for he’d glimpsed something in her eyes, something painful and unmistakable: a look of loss nothing could hide.

“What happened?” he asked softly, his anxiety forgotten as he reached forward and clasped her hand.

She met his gaze, and like last night, something passed between them. Unlike last night, she wasn’t asleep, and so the connection felt deeper, his need to comfort her so great, he felt helpless with a longing for it.

“I was sixteen,” she said. “For six years I’d managed to keep and feed Admiral, no easy feat, let me tell you, for my father resented that horse with every breath he took. It was a battle day in and day out, my father unable to understand that I needed Admiral as much as he needed me. He was my only friend. A confidant who knew my deepest fears, and dreams. I would have done anything to keep him, and just about did, and then one day my father decided to use him as a plow horse.”

Alex realized then that he’d probed a wound best left undisturbed. A horrible premonition overtook him, made his breath catch. Made him squeeze her hand even more, his own discomfort forgotten in the face of her pain.

She didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t know what Admiral used to do before he came to me, but I’d bet he wasn’t used as a plow horse. Or maybe he was, and that’s why he ran away, but whatever the case, he didn’t want to be one the day my father tried to hitch him up.”

Her face had gone oddly lax, as if the telling of the story was so old, that she was beyond emotion now.

“He kicked my father in the leg that day, nearly snapping it in two. It didn’t matter that I told my dad not to do it, that Admiral was mine to do with as I pleased. In his eyes, the horse was his.” She shook her head. “I think that kick sent my father over the edge. He said he was tired of feeding him, tired of the time it took me to clean up after him. The horse had to go. God help me I thought he meant I’d have to sell him. I never, ever thought he meant to shoot him.”

Oh, God.

“When he grabbed his hunting rifle, I thought he meant to bring it with him into town. It wasn’t until he stopped outside the small paddock I kept Admiral in that I realized what he intended to do.”

“Good God, Mary,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged, the absence of a single tear in her eyes somehow more painful to him than if she’d sobbed buckets.

“I tried to stop him, but there was nothing I could do. In the end I consoled myself with the fact that Admiral died a quick death.”

Lord, he’d never heard such a sad tale in his life.

“I wanted to kill my father right then. I truly did. Even told him so. But he said if I didn’t like what he’d done, I could leave.” She met his gaze. “So I did.”

And it all connected together then…how she’d left when she was sixteen. He’d thought it a young age to strike out on one’s own. Now he knew why.

“I left. Never looked back, either. Well, mayhap once or twice. Being on my own was a frightening thing, at first. But I survived, as you can see.” She splayed her hands. “Though I never got meself arrested like you managed to do the first time you were on your own.”

“I did not get us arrested.”

And he argued with her not because he felt slighted, but because the change of subject was needed. He knew that. Pounced on it.

“Indeed you did,” she volleyed back. “If not for you we’d be long past Shopshire and on our way to your father’s house unfettered.”

“Shopshire?” he asked, for a moment disbelieving the words that entered his ears.

“Aye. That pitiful town we were in was called Shop-shire. And who, might I ask, names a town Shop? That would be like naming a dog Bark, or a horse Neigh.”

“Good lord,” Alex shouted, ignoring her logic, though she did have a point. “Do you mean to say all day yesterday and this morn we were in
Shopshire
?”

“We were.”

“But that is not above ten miles from Sherborne.” Mary just stared at him blankly.

“My cousin Reinleigh Montgomery is the Earl of Sherborne.”

That got a reaction from her. She shot away from the wall as if an ant had bit her back. “Why didn’t you say that afore?” She moved toward the back of the cart. The air stirred as she passed, some of her hair tickling the side of his face.

“What are you doing?”

He watched as she pried a rather large splinter from one of the timbers, inserting it between the crack of the door. From there it was a simple matter for her to flip up the swinging latch so that it spun out of the U-shaped holder outside.

“Good lord,” he said as the door opened with a blast of sweet-smelling air, tiny drops of rain pushing in until the warmth of the carriage pulled them back out.

She gave him a cocky smile that was almost endearing in the way it conveyed her absolute pride in herself. “I was going to wait until we got nearer to London, but since you’ve a cousin nearby, and what with you being afraid of small spaces and the way you get hives and all…”

Alex wanted to kiss her. He truly did. And he would have, too, but in the next moment she was giving him a wink just before she slipped out the door.

Chapter Twelve

He looked like he wanted to kiss her. And as Mary recalled the way it’d felt to have his lips cover her own last eve, she realized she wanted him to. Instead she held out her hand, saying, “And if you get us arrested again, m’lord, you’re on your own.”

His lordship just stared up at her. Rain fell in miserable drips from the sky, made his shirt even muddier than before. But Mary thought him still the handsomest cull she’d ever seen.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

And the look in his eyes…it made her feel like Mary Callahan—smuggler’s daughter, former turnip-cart operator, lately of the Royal Circus—was Somebody, which, if she were honest with herself, was something she’d longed for all her life.

He pulled himself up, his body standing tall and firm. And she thought—
oh
, how she held her breath because he seemed so handsome then.

But in the next instant he was turning away, saying, “Let us be off, before that driver realizes we’ve escaped.”

A half-hour later, Mary’s feet felt like they’d been scrubbed with a rock, a sharp-edged, porous volcanic rock. Lord above, every step she took made her wince, his lordship’s stockings doing little to shield the pads of her feet.

They were wending their way through the countryside, Alex utterly convinced he knew exactly where they were.

Ach, Mary had heard that before.

But he’d been insistent he could find his way to Sher-borne blindfolded. Mary certainly hoped so. She were wet, in pain, and so cold her nose dripped like melted wax. It had just stopped raining, water pooling on leaves that little fairies dumped on her head just as she crossed beneath. Her hair hung like dog fur around her ears, and she’d begun to suspect the cloak she wore was infested with fleas. Her skin itched like a hound’s.

So immersed was she in wallowing in her own misery, she almost smashed into Alex’s back when he stopped suddenly.

“There it is.”

Mary followed his gaze, her frozen spine popping into place as she straightened suddenly.

Another bleedin’ castle. Coo, would you look at that. Alex chose to look at her with an expression of near boyish enthusiasm. And Mary decided then and there that when he weren’t looking like someone hung off his testicles, he seemed almost human. Oh, he were still a handsome gent—he always would be—but that handsomeness suddenly took on the shine of a coin that’d been spat on, rubbed and polished clean. Hidden dimples came out to play. Wrinkles by the sides of his eyes loosened and shaved years of seriousnessness off his face. It all made Mary long to swipe his wet hair off his forehead.

Argh, lost your mind, you have. He’s a lord, Mary girl, best you remember that.

And if ever she needed evidence of the world he lived in, she need only look off yonder. Sherborne was a shire of rolling green hills and thick woods with acres of green pastures between them. The castle itself was a true castle with parapets and turrets and the like. They’d been slowly climbing a hill, one that crested above the castle, Mary forgetting her disgruntlement as she stared at the place. It looked just like a drawing she’d once seen of a castle in a fairy story. Granite walls, large arched door in the front, and a gold and red standard that tried to fly in a half-hearted breeze.

“We need to walk down this hill to the road visible just there through the trees.” He pointed down below. “That will take us to the main entrance.”

He bounded off with all the enthusiasm of a squirrel carrying a nut. But they’d hardly taken a step when someone said, “I’m afraid you won’t be welcome at the main entrance.”

They both turned. A horse and rider had broken through the trees. Mary felt her breath escape in a rush, for the man looked like the very devil himself as he sat atop his black stallion, twin streams of steam shooting from the horse’s nostrils.

“Don’t tell me to leave, you silly cawker.”

Mary felt her gaze whip to Alex’s. Silly cawker? Where had he learned
that
from?

You.

Mary straightened in pride. The man’s eyes narrowed. He clucked his horse forward—not that the beast needed much incentive. And then it was almost comical the way the expression on the man’s face turned instantly to one of puzzlement.

“Alex?”

“Aye, you wretch. ’Tis I.”

He pulled his horse to a stop. “What the devil are
you
doing here?”

“Walking to Sherborne castle, as you can see.”

“But where is your coach?”

“’Tis a long story, one that I almost hate to regale you with, so I shan’t. Not till later.”

The man Mary now suspected was the earl looked at her. Or, rather, he studied her, his gaze lingering on her breasts (thus proving to Mary that the two men were, indeed, related) before meeting Alex’s eyes again.

“I see the company you keep has improved, though her feet are bleeding all over my land.”

Mary looked down. Blimey, her feet
had
started to ooze.

“Mary, why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked up, shrugged. “What was there to tell?” she said. “We needed to keep moving. Weren’t no sense in stopping over a little blood.”

“Take her up before you,” Alex said to his cousin. The earl looked like he’d just been asked to push her off a cliff. “On this stallion? Are you daft? She’d be dumped before her backside hit the saddle.”

Mary decided then and there that she rather liked Alex’s cousin. Weren’t no fussiness to his manner of speech.

“Fine, then I’ll carry her.”

“No,” Mary ordered, stopping him with a hand. “You’ll fall on your backside trying to traverse this terrain with me in your arms, and beggin’ your pardon, m’lord, but I don’t ken to more injuries.”

“Very well. Rein, dismount. She shall ride. You shall walk.”

“Ride Onyx? I think not. I can easily ride back and fetch another—”

“She’s bleeding, Rein.”

Mary was about to point out that she’d been bleeding for hours, but just then another chill racked her body. Aye, she’d be frozen into a block of ice if she were made to wait for these two sapskulls to figure out what to do.

“Get off your horse, m’lord.”

The earl blinked down at her.

“Quickly now.”

Two pairs of eyes turned toward her.

“My lady,” the earl said. “You do not understand—” “Get off the horse,” she insisted, the way he called her
my lady
making her draw up.

Reluctantly, the earl dismounted, the stallion dancing around the moment his feet touched the ground.

“Careful,” Alex warned.

“I told you, this is a silly idea.”

“Stand back, m’lord earl.”

The man looked over at her, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t think—”

Mary ran at him. The horse saw her, splayed all four legs in opposite directions in shock. That gave Mary time to come alongside of him.

“Mary, don’t—”

The horse whirled. Mary grabbed at the mane just as the beast dug in hooves and took off at a run.

The technique came to her instantly. Using a combination of strength, the horse’s momentum, and the ground itself to propel her forward, Mary vaulted onto the horse’s back, landing in the saddle with a softness that took even her by surprise, given the fact that she hadn’t performed the trick in months. She’d worried that her chemise might get in the way, but she needn’t have. The thing ripped, exposing her legs to her stunned audience of two. But a man staring at her legs wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to, so she didn’t care.

The hardest part was fighting the horse’s forward motion to grasp the reins that his lordship had thankfully left over the horse’s neck, but she managed to do the deed. A big brute the horse might be, but he had a mouth like butter and the manners of a gentleman once he realized it was no gentle
woman
who rode his back.

“Easy now,” she coaxed, the animal’s gallop turning into a canter, then a trot, until, finally, a prancing walk.

“Easy,” she repeated, turning him toward the two men. Though she told herself she didn’t care what his lordship thought of her “talent,” and though she warned herself that such an upright cull would likely be aghast at her unladylike skill, Mary still sought out Alex’s gaze.

She had the rum-eyed pleasure of watching his mouth slap closed, the look on his face not one of disgust nor even dismay, but shock followed close on its heels by admiration as she pulled the horse to a stop, the animal’s front hooves leaving skid marks in the grass.

“Where to, m’lord?”

“Where did you find her?”

They were walking back to his cousin’s home, Alex unable to take his eyes off the sight of Mary Callahan as she cantered the horse off ahead of them, turned around, then cantered back. Expertly. Perfectly. And with a perfect seat rare amongst men, much less women.

“She’s my daughter’s nurse.”

“She’s
no
nurse.”

Alex had begun to suspect the same thing. The first time he had wondered had been when she locked Gabriella in her room. No nurse he’d ever met would have done such an outrageous thing. But he’d truly begun to suspect something wasn’t quite right when she’d used such skill when evading their pursuers. There’d been an air about her as they’d fled, the air of someone who’d been in such a situation before.

“How did she come to be with you?”

“She rescued me from a kidnapping.”

“Did she now?”

“And then she flipped open the lock of the ice cart we were imprisoned in.”

“The tale grows more interesting. Perhaps you should start from the beginning?”

And so Alex did, knowing his cousin would be amused and entertained. And, indeed, he was, laughing when Alex described his outrage over not being recognized by a mere butler.

“Of all the things to happen to you,” his cousin said. “You’re such a stick in the mud, I can only imagine what you must have looked like when you were charged with theft.”

“It was not at all amusing. The first thing I shall do when we reach Sherborne is dash a note off to my father and daughter reassuring them we are well. Once we have both eaten and rested, we shall return to Wainridge post haste.”

“You’ll not get far with the roads in their present shape.”

“I am determined to try, if only to head for Shopshire and that silly squire so that I may rebuke him for daring to incarcerate me.”

“Indeed, I’m not surprised.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Rein shrugged. “I meant no offense. ’Tis a matter of truth.
I
would have laughed to find myself in such a situation. You, however, will act the indignant lord, making certain that all involved are brought to task. You are, as always, determined to bring order back to the land.”

“And what is wrong with that?”

Rein looked ahead to where Mary turned around his mount. “Nothing, nothing, but it makes me wonder what you will do with her. I have a house party in attendance.”

“Devil take it.”

“Aye, I invited Lord Falkner over to discuss our East Indian investments and before I knew it, five females and two matchmaking mamas were coming along with him. I tell you, Alex, it makes no sense. I am a blackguard. A rake. A certified lecher, and yet these two women think I would make a lovely husband for one of their innocent young daughters. Demme, they are like flesh peddlers, only worse.”

“Mary’s arrival will cause a stir.”

“Likely, it will, not that I care. Perhaps it might scare them away. Then again, they will think her your tart, especially if she shows up on my doorstep dressed as she is. Then again, she might have to show up naked in order to truly startle them. I don’t suppose you can convince her to shed her clothes?”

“Rein,” Alex chided.

“No? Oh, well, I suppose we could sneak her into the servants’ entrance. My staff will take excellent care of her.”

“And gossip about her, too, no doubt.”

Rein inclined his head. “Indeed, however, they have proven themselves quite discreet in the past, thank the good lord above.”

“Have they?” Alex asked, knowing his cousin referred to the other type of guest that frequented Sherborne, his cousin the earl’s mistresses.

“You could likely trust them.”

“But not your guests’s staff should they catch word of Mary’s presence.”

“That, I’m afraid, I can do nothing about.”

Alex thought for a moment, straightened, then looked Rein in the eye. “How do you feel about discovering a new cousin?”

“Are you bloody daft?”

Alex glanced up and down the barn aisle, making sure they hadn’t been overheard, which would be unlikely since Rein had told his grooms to make themselves scarce. He stood outside a stall in a U-shaped courtyard, Mary inside one of the spacious foaling pens. She’d been brought here to hide until proper attire could be found. Alex had just broken the news to her that she was to become the newest member of the Drummond clan, but just for a night, as they would set off to Wainridge in the morning.

“You can’t be thinkin’ bleedin’ straight.”