Tempted (5 page)

“You are right, Mrs. Callahan. I am entirely at fault. If you wish to leave my employ, I will certainly understand.”
Please, oh please, oh please, let her resign.
“I had no business entering your room as I did. I only hope you understand that I was truly concerned about your welfare what with a strange creature running about.”

She drew back even further, her hands leaving his desk to be placed on her hips, and of all things, she clucked at him—her tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth like she imitated a trotting horse. How odd. And then those glorious green eyes of hers peered at him intently. The color of hot peppers they were this morning, vivid and vibrant and far too spicy to suit his peace of mind.

“What could you have possibly thought happened?” she finally asked.

“You have to ask that after yesterday?”

He could tell the moment the memory of him lying atop her filled her mind, could tell by the way her lids lowered an instant before her eyes looked away from his own.

“How could I forget that?” he thought he heard her say.

His own composure slipped a bit. “Yes, well. Such is the reason why I thought you might be in distress. At this point, I have no idea if the creature has left the house.”

She didn’t move.

“I would never have invaded your room otherwise,” he reiterated. “And in hindsight I likely should have sent Mrs. Grimes up in my stead. Again, I will understand if you wish to resign.”

But lord help him, a part of him didn’t want her to do so. He almost closed his eyes and groaned. It didn’t help matters that she didn’t say anything. Nor did he. And then the awareness returned, that bloody desire that filled his mind and made him want to turn away.

“How much did you see?”

Alex almost swallowed another air bubble. “I beg your pardon?”

She lifted a red brow. “Did you get an eyeful or did you only catch a glimpse?”

Good lord, what a question. And yet he found himself answering despite the fact that he knew he should say nothing, that he should act like he’d seen only a sheet, or perhaps a hint of flesh and nothing else. Instead he found himself saying, “I saw it all.”

And, Lord, he would never forget it. Never. Never. Never.

The air filled with a heavy presence Alex recognized as desire.

“I see.”

Lust, he admitted. ’Twas lust he felt.

For a servant.

Through sheer force of will, he drew back from her. Sat down, even, though he near broke his shaft in doing so. “Yes, well, again. My apologies. It shall never happen again.”

He didn’t look up at her. He had a feeling if he did, something might happen. Something he desperately wanted, but that he refused to act upon.
Ever.

“Thank you for coming by,” he said, bending down to pick up his quill from the floor, his words sounding breathless as his movement forced air from his lungs…or so he told himself. “I will expect that in the future you will endeavor to wake up in a more timely manner.” He straightened, then pulled a piece of paper toward him. “That will be all,” he waved dismissively. Only he had to clench the quill more firmly because his bloody hand shook.

Silence reigned again. He chanced a peek up at her. She narrowed her eyes one last time before turning on her heel and heading for the door. Alex felt like clucking, too. Or clutching his face in his hands, or squeezing his cheeks together hard between his palms and puckering his lips like a fish, something he used to do when he was a child. Instead he dipped his quill in ink, putting it to paper, not revealing his inner turmoil by sheer force of will. The door closed. He looked up, his whole body deflating upon realizing she’d left.

What did you want her to do, Alex?

Proposition him, he admitted. Bloody hell, he’d wanted her to proposition him.

When he glanced back down on the paper, he stared in horror at what he’d written.

Tempted, tempted, tempted.

She’d turned into a daft-witted fool. It was the only excuse she had to explain how she could be so bleedin’ attracted to the cull. Lord above, what kind of fool gets her head turned by a lord? A bloody marquis, no less?

Mary leaned against the door to her bedroom, Abu emerging from beneath the covers he’d slept under last eve. Thank goodness his lordship hadn’t spied the little monkey curled up at her feet.

And if he had, what of it? He had no business being in your room.

But not only had he been in her room, he’d seen her
naked.
Seen her exposed to the elements. For the first time she’d been viewed by a man, and god help her, it made her feel as fiercely alive as when she’d stood upon Beechem’s Cliff back in Hollowbrook. Stood there in the rain and lightning with the wind whipping her hair back and yet the whole time not the least bit scared, just curiously, wonderfully
alive.

She closed her eyes as she recalled the look upon his face down stairs. His gaze had looked empty for a second, then just as quickly filled with something hot and heavy and that made an answering heat build in her woman’s mound. Aye. Got it bad, she had. Her lips fair tingled at the thought of smacking his mums, the memory of how it’d felt to lie beneath him yesterday making her thighs sweat. Lust fever. No doubt about it. For a bleedin’ lord.

Of all the daft-witted things.

Abu chattered something at her just before he bounded into her arms. She hugged his furry little body next to her, thinking she’d best keep his lordship out of her mind, and out of her room. The man was a clever cull and it might not take him long to realize she was as affected by him as much as
he
was
her.

And that she was
no
nurse.

Chapter Four

She managed to avoid him for the next few days, though there were times when she thought plucking out her eyelashes would be a less painful job. His lordship’s daughter could make a saint turn into the very devil. Their battles were loud and long, Mary wondering how long it would be before their arguments reached his lordship’s attention.

Thus, when Mary was summoned to see him not many days later she thought, indeed, that it was about her performance as a nurse. Truth be told, she almost hoped it was. A pound a week wasn’t enough blunt to watch the lass.
Two
pounds a week wouldn’t be enough. He should be paying her a hundred pounds. A day.

Still, her heart flapped in her chest like a spawning fish as she went downstairs. Ach. The heart palpitations only increased when she knocked on his door a few moments later.

“Come,” said a masculine voice from the other side. She put her hand on the ornate crystal knob, squaring her shoulders and stiffening her spine as she pushed on the dark oak door.

One look at his grave face made her almost stumble. “Who died?” she found herself asking before her brain had proper time to register she should likely hold her tongue.

He looked up, and that
thing
passed through her whole body again.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

It was a sign of how slow her brain had become that it took her a moment to realize his grave face might have something to do with
her,
and not the job she was doing with Gabriella. “What?”

He held up a piece of paper.

Mary swallowed. Hard. It was, indeed, her references. At least, she thought it was. Hard to tell from this angle.

“I have here a letter from someone who wishes to keep his identity a secret.”

Bugger it. She
was
going to be arrested. Bloody, bloody,
bloody
hell. Who’d cackled to the bobbies?

“This person, whoever he is, has sent me a warning.” She could barely hear, the blood rushing through her ears so fast, she could feel it pound at the veins in her neck with a
thump-thump
that no doubt vibrated the frilled lace of her neckline.

“It appears as if my daughter might be in danger of a kidnapping.”

So tense was she, so expecting different words, it took her a moment to actually absorb what he said. “
What
?”

“Kidnap her,” he repeated, tossing the letter on his desk.

“Oh, gracious, m’lord,” she said, placing her hands upon her chest in relief.

But he interpreted her remark as concern. “Indeed, I am quite upset myself. As you may or may not be aware, I command a revenue cutter for the Crown. Along with this letter came another post requesting my presence in Exeter. As such, I shall be forced to leave.” He straightened. “Since it appears as if my daughter might be in jeopardy, I am forced to take her with me and by association
you
.”

She didn’t glean his words at first. Fact is, it wasn’t until he met her gaze again, the look upon his face that of a man who’d caught a whiff of bad milk, that she finally understood.

“I’m to go with you?” It was a statement for all that it came out a question.

He looked pained. Aye, like he’d swallowed a fat acorn, one that’d gotten lodged in his throat. “Believe me, Mrs. Callahan, I would not do so if I felt there was another option, but I cannot risk Gabby’s care to anyone else save my own.” He stared at her for a moment before saying, “And you.”

Mary smelled a rat. A big, fat smuggling rat otherwise known as her father. She’d sent the blighter a letter the day she’d arrived. Told him she wouldn’t be spying for him, and that he’d been a fool for asking her in the first place. The blighter must have decided to take matters into his own hands; flush his Lordship from his hole, so to speak.

“As her nurse, you will need to pack her things. And yours as well, of course.”

She blinked five times before she suddenly blurted, “Have you gone daft?”

He looked at her as if she’d announced her intention to run for Parliament. “I beg your pardon?”

“You can’t take me on a journey with you.”

“Indeed, I can.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Will we share a room?”

That got a reaction from him. He seemed to pale a bit, only to immediately turn red. “Of course not. You and Gabby will have your own room.”

She lifted a brow.

“I assure you, Mrs. Callahan, I have no designs on your virtue.”

“No? That’s not what my eyes saw the other morn when they noticed the bulge beneath your breeches.”

“The
what?
”

“Oh, aye. I know you got a rise out of seein’ me in the buff. But I won’t take it personal-like as I know a man is the weaker sex. Just as long as you keep your distance from me.”

He was back to hanging his mouth open again, just as he had the first morning she’d met him. He shut it quick enough, though, flinging the paper he still held on his desk.

“Well, since we are clearing the air here, let me say that I know you are not as indifferent to me as you let on.”

She lifted her head. So he’d caught that, too, eh? Hmm, she should have known he was no toad-faced fool. “Aye, and yet knowing that, you still want me to accompany you and your daughter to wherever it is you’re going. I wonder at that.”

“Ah, but you see, we are both adults and as such, perfectly capable of restraining ourselves, especially in light of the fact that you are a servant and I am your master. And while females of the lower order are often easy prey for men of my station, I assure you, I am not that type of man.”

Why, of all the arrogant— As if being a nobleman and she being the daughter of a seaman had anything to do with it. She felt her eyes narrow. He was so busy playing the nobleman, he’d forgotten that he was a man. She almost told him so, too, but something made her hold her tongue, something that had to do with the sudden realization that if her father was behind this—and she had every reason to believe he was—then it might be best if she accompanied his lordship here just to keep an eye on his daughter. She should have seen that coming, she admitted with an inward sigh. Now she was honor bound to keep an eye on his lordship’s daughter when what she wanted to do was let her father take the chit. It would suit the scaly cove right to be saddled with the hellion.

“When do we leave?” she asked because she admitted if his lordship’s daughter was kidnapped, it was herself that would be to blame.

“As soon as possible.”

“Very well. I’ll pack Miss Gabriella and myself immediately.”

He nodded, dismissing her with a hand.

Mary hated that. She truly did. And it was twice now he’d done it. She wasn’t a dog to be shooed away from a dinner table.

Clenching her jaw, she gave him a curtsy, then straightened up as tall as she could. He didn’t look up. Didn’t even appear to notice her curtsy.

Ignore her, would he?

She would just see about that.

But to be quite honest, there was a side of Mary that positively looked forward to gallivanting about the countryside in his lordship’s prime carriage even as another part of her dashed off a letter to her father warning him that she was on to his scheme of attempted blackmail through kidnapping (though she did wonder who’d tipped his lordship off).

So it was that when the time came to leave, her body snapped with excitement even as a part of her wondered what the devil to do with Abu. She surveyed the little monkey now, wide, brown eyes staring up at her as if to say, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare stuff me in that satchel.” But, she reasoned, what else could she do?

What else, indeed.

She should have known by Abu’s look that it would be a battle to get him to cooperate. Mary was convinced that males of all species were difficult beasts when it came to listening to a woman.

So it was that when she descended the stairs, brown wool cloak thrown over her shoulders, leather satchel in hand (one that thumped and shifted about from the inside, though at least he’d stopped screeching), she tried to keep said satchel hidden beneath said cloak. But her concern over Abu was momentarily forgotten as she stepped out into London’s dreary weather and caught her first glimpse of the marquis’s coach and four.

Lord have mercy, would you feast your peepers on that?

She almost wished Abu were free so he could get a look at it. Four black geldings stood in gleaming black traces, the lead horse pawing the ground as if demanding to be let go. Beauties those horses were, their veins bulging in excitement at the task they were soon to perform, the coach rocking as they stamped their feet in frustration at being forced to stand. She noticed that his lordship didn’t have their tails docked, a practice that turned Mary’s stomach. Tall and long legged, Mary had no doubt the geldings would get them to where they were going as quick as could be.

“Coo, they’re beauties, they are.”

The coachman who sat high upon the driver’s box looked down at her, a smile spreading across his face from beneath his black top hat that collected rain and dropped it into his lap. “Indeed they are, miss.”

Moving toward the lead horse slowly, she reached out to stroke one.

“Careful—”

But she’d already demonstrated her knowledge in the way she scratched beneath the headstall, the horse pressing against her hand as she itched beneath his bridle. So good did it feel, the black actually stretched its nose out in pleasure, his little whiskers fluctuating in happiness.

“Ach, know something of horses, you do.”

If the man only knew, Mary thought, biting back a smile. For Mary made a living riding such animals, and not astride, but by standing atop or hanging off the side of them. As she inhaled that sweet scent unique to equines—a scent grown more potent by the rain—she realized she missed her team of horses. Missed hugging them and petting them and patting their necks. Missed the company. Prayed they were being well tended to in her absence, though even if they weren’t there wasn’t much she could do about it. They weren’t hers.

She stepped away from the carriage, realizing if she didn’t watch it, she might give herself away, so she covered her actions by saying, “’Tis a fine coach you keep, sir.”

The man’s smile grew. “Thank you, miss.”

And it was. Even though the sky above flung annoying drops of rain upon all beneath it, the carriage still gleamed like black pianoforte keys newly polished by loving hands. Two postillions sat on a bench above the trunks, their green wool jackets collecting drops of rain that smeared their shoulders and the gray wigs upon their heads. The driver, too, was splendidly outfitted, though he had the advantage of that hat. And as she took it all in, Mary found herself wondering how many times she’d wished to ride in such an equipage. How many nights had she lain in bed dreaming of such a thing? And here was the real thing, a purple, ivory, and black crest painted on the rain-spattered door. Those drops beaded upon the paint, as if the wood dared water to seep into its depths.

“Abu, we’re in for a treat, we are—”

“Mrs. Callahan, a word with you, please.”

Mary jumped, turning toward his lordship. “Do you always have to sneak up on me?”

And had he heard her?

Apparently not.

He skidded to a halt before her like a barking dog, his multilayered greatcoat swirling around his legs, his hair mussed for all that it was drawn back in a queue again. He looked tall and powerful and arrogant and full of himself and utterly and undeniably angry … with her.
Blimey.
What had she done now?

She had her answer a moment later. “Did you lock Gabriella in her room?”

She almost clucked, stopped herself, then reluctantly nodded, Abu deciding then to make another bid for freedom by bounding around. Mary hid the satchel further beneath her cloak as she prayed the little animal wouldn’t start to screech. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Because she threatened to run away.”

“So you
locked
her in her
room
?”

She let out a sigh, rolled her eyes heavenward. When she looked back at him again it was just in time to see a gust of wind catch his coat, open it, swirl it around his knees like a playful kitten, revealing a dark gray—nearly black—jacket beneath, his muscular and oh-so-masculine legs in buff breeches. She swallowed. Hard.

“M’lord, if she’d run away it would have taken until next Easter to find her. You know it and I know it. Don’t be miffed. Truth be told, I thought about tying her to a chair, too. Lord knows how tempted I was to bleedin’ do it. But I held back.” And a good thing, too, judging by the look on his arrogant, irritated face.

“You—” It seemed the only word he could utter. “I can’t—” he managed to get out next. “Of all the—”

“Nerve?” she supplied.

“How
could
you?”

“What do you mean, how could I? All I did was lock her in a room. Safe as a button, she was.” And more importantly, safe from kidnappers.

“What if there had been a fire? What if she’d been unable to get out?”

“Was there a fire?”