Tempted (6 page)

“Of course not.”

“And your point then would be?”

He lost his voice box again, but only for a second. “Mrs. Callahan, never,
ever
lock my child in a room again. Is that understood?”

“No.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “Your daughter needs a stern hand right now, m’lord. If I can’t have freedom to do as I wish, then I’m thinking this job isn’t for me.”

Abu let out a screech of anger.

Mary blanched.

“What the
devil
was that?”

“That was me. I make that sound when I’m vexed.” “You’re vexed?”

“I am,” she said with a lift of her chin, and she was. “
I
am the one who is vexed. Why, I should release you without wages.”

“Then do so. Doing me a favor, you would, like as not. And Miss Gabby would be beside herself with joy. She’ll be able to go back to running wild again, making it easy for a kidnapper to nab her.”

He drew up at the mention of a kidnapper. Well, good. That was her point.

“She needs reining in, m’lord,” she added. “If not, she’s apt to do something drastic, something that will put her in harm’s way, if not in the path of a kidnapper, then something else. Aye, I’ve seen it before, with me youngest brother. Wild he was. And rebellious. I near tore my hair out trying to keep him in line. And then one day he fell in the river, a river that I’d warned him from approaching time and again. For hours we searched and all I could think was that I should have been more stern. Or kept a closer watch on him. Or a million other things that would have torn me apart if he’d drowned that day. He didn’t, and from that point forward I refused to let him run roughshod over me. ’Twas the best thing that could have happened.”

She leaned toward him a bit to make sure he was listening. “He’s married now, has two bairns of his own, one of which is a fair way to giving him the same fits as he gave me. So if you don’t like the stern way I handle your daughter, then I suggest you go ahead and dismiss me. I’ll leave now. Make it easy on you and the kidnappers and save us both some trouble in the long run, I’ll wager.”

She waited for him to do it, to do what they both knew he
should
do. For even as she sat there, looking into eyes so stern and angry and wild, she felt the stirring in her belly. He looked so bleedin’ handsome standing there. It fair made her want to cry. And having admitted that much, she also admitted to wishing she wasn’t so common bred. That one day he might see her as more than a poor seafarer’s daughter.

Ach, Mary girl. He doesn’t even
know
you’re a seafarer’s daughter.

And he didn’t. If luck went her way, he never would. Aye, two pounds richer she was already. A bleedin’ fortune. And it was that, god rot her soul, that bloody greed that kept her from resigning herself…that and worry over what her father might do next.

“Well?” she asked when he kept silent.

“I appreciate your concern for my daughter’s welfare, but I still say you went too far.”

She lifted a hand, Abu strangely quiet, like as not because of her raised voice. “You’re as blind as an earthworm, you are, but I’ll not apologize. Nor will I leave, not unless
you
tell me to.”

And still he didn’t say the words. Still he didn’t release her.

And in a flash she knew the reason why. “You don’t want to deal with her any more than I do.”

He looked like she’d stuck him with a hat pin.

“Do not be absurd. She is my daughter.”

“’Tis true,” she accused. “You’re afraid of the whelp.” “How could I possibly be afraid of my own daughter?” “That’s why you leave her behind all the time,” she reasoned. “She has you outmanned and outgunned and you’re filled with fear at having to rein her in.”

“You know not of what you speak.”

“Don’t use fancy talk on me, m’lord. I see right through you. What is more, I begin to realize why it is you hired me. Nothing puts the fear of God in a man faster than dealing with a berserk female. Aye. You’ve got the sloppy bowels because of her, and you want me to clean it all up.”

He looked at her like she were one of those tonic peddlers who’d used their own product and turned their hair green. “You, madam, have lost your mind.”

“And you, sir, are deluding yours.”

He blinked at her for a few more seconds before he shook his head, saying almost to himself, “How do you do it? How do you get me so completely rattled that I forget ’tis I who is supposed to be vexed? How do you turn things about so completely that it’s suddenly me who feels the need to apologize? I who wonders if I shouldn’t have locked Gabby in her room to avoid a kidnapping?”

“I’m a woman, m’lord, we specialize in such things.” He stared at her for a few seconds more, then turned on his heel and went back to the house, the many capes of his coat brushing his shoulders.

He didn’t dismiss her.

He didn’t offer to give her a second chance.

He didn’t do anything other than stamp back toward the house, only to turn suddenly when he reached the top step. “We will be leaving when the Bow Street Runners arrive.”

Bow Street Runners?

“Since they aren’t due here for another ten minutes you might wish to wait inside.” His gaze moved to the coachman. “You, too, John. And the postillions. It will not hurt the horses to have them stand.”

And with that, he turned and left, Mary trying to decide what shocked her more—the fact that he’d hired Bow Street Runners that might sniff around and discover she was no nurse, or that he cared about his staff enough to send them inside for comfort.

And from up above her on the driver’s box the coachman said, “Well done, my lady.”

Oddly enough, the words only depressed her all the more.

She
wasn’t
a lady.

Chapter Five

Alex regretted his inability to release her every excruciating mile he was jammed next to her—thanks to his daughter’s unswerving determination to sit as far away from her as possible. So Gabby was to his right, Mrs. Callahan on his left. Next to him. Touching him. Driving him mad.

Bloody hell, why hadn’t he told her to leave?
Because you know she had a point.

And she had. He knew it, for it was one thing he prided himself upon, his ability to see both sides of an argument, if, indeed, one could call their discussion an argument.

She’d been right about Gabby’s wild nature making it easier for a kidnapper to abduct her. The devil of it was, he hadn’t even thought of it himself. Lord, he should be thanking Mrs. Callahan, not getting angry with her.

The coach lurched. Their bodies touched. Alex felt like he’d been jolted by the devil’s pitchfork. Thoughts of the danger Gabby was in faded for a moment as his body reacted to Mrs. Callahan like fire reacted to dry grass. Frankly, he didn’t know what was worse, his admitting she’d been right, or the way that sitting next to Mrs. Callahan made him feel.

He darted a glance at her.

The way Mrs. Callahan made him feel.

She, however, seemed impervious to it all. Her elegant profile was turned toward the window, her expression pensive as she watched the passing scenery. Gabby was asleep next to him, his arm her pillow. They’d passed out of London and by turn, out of the rain. Fluffy clouds tore apart like cotton and dotted the cerulean sky. They’d made their way through the park-like vistas of London’s south country, having entered the wooded splendor of Surrey. Villages sprouted up in oddly square patterns, reminding him of a giant quilt whenever they chanced upon higher ground.

Oomph.

That was the undignified sound he made as the carriage passed in and then out of another nasty rut. Gabby stirred, but didn’t awaken. That was a relief. He didn’t think he could take another minute of his daughter and her nurse bickering. Frankly, he’d been on the verge of telling them to stop a half dozen times except he had the oddest feeling the two of them were bonding in some feminine way he didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand.

Oomph.

“Beg your pardon,” he said, dismayed to realize the whole right side of his body was smushed against hers.

“At this rate, m’lord, you’ll be in my lap afore long.”
If only
she
were in
his
lap
.

He blushed, a deuced ridiculous thing to do given his age, and yet the thought of her on his lap had him turning the color of a Dragoon’s jacket.

“Frankly, m’lord, I’m surprised you didn’t have me ride in a servant’s carriage.”

“Believe me, Mrs. Callahan, I am currently regretting the Runners’ decision to travel quickly and lightly in order to escape those who threaten my daughter.”

She didn’t respond so he glanced down at her. The look in her eyes took him aback.

“Rest easy, m’lord. She’ll be right and tight.” “Indeed she will, for I shall kill anyone who attempts to harm her.”

Her eyes widened, likely at the viciousness of his words. But just then the carriage tipped to the left and they rounded a bumpy corner, the motion bringing his shoulder into contact with her own. Again. Lovely shoulders, he suddenly realized. Elegant. Curved. Well, most shoulders were curved. But hers were
excellently
curved. The skin pale and soft looking—at least what he could see around the neckline of her gown. But what held his fascination most was the column of her neck where it sprouted up from those lovely shoulders. If he leaned just the tiniest fraction, he could brush his lips against…

He almost groaned. Instead he closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

“M’lord?”

Forcing himself to open his eyes, he looked down at her. Again. And he knew. He just
knew
she knew exactly what was going through his mind. The thought seemed confirmed when a saucy expression came over her face.

“It’s hell being a man, isn’t it?”

He didn’t register her words, not at first, but then he looked into her eyes, saw the sparkle there, and the way she tilted her lips into an impish smile.

“Oh, aye. You may have a title, you may have blue blood, but beneath it all you’re still a man.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Liar, liar, liar,
hurled a voice inside his head.

Indeed, but
she
didn’t know that.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said.

Or perhaps she did.

He forced himself to look straight ahead. Forced his hands upon his lap to remain still and not reach for her. Not pull her head toward him. Not—odd’s teeth—kiss her senselessly as was his wont to do.

And yet, almost against his will, he found himself looking down at her again and, oh, how he wished he were the sort of man who didn’t mind dallying with his staff. But he wasn’t that sort of man. Point of fact: he prided himself on being the exact opposite. He was a lord. He’d schooled himself to have pride in King and country and all that rot and, by God, he should be able to control his base desires for one, pixie-faced woman.

“Do you have a mistress?”

Did he
what
? He jerked around to face her only to remember Gabby at the last moment and so he gentled his movements and hissed, “I
beg
your pardon?”

“A mistress. You know, a bunter, a bobtail, a blowen—”

“Yes, yes,” he said as they bounced in and out of another rut, only to turn sharply left afterward. “I know what a mistress is.”

She didn’t seem to notice he was pressed against her as firmly as a saddle on a horse. “Well? Do you have one? You might need one if you don’t. I’ve heard men who go unrequited for too long sometimes injure their privates, if you catch me meaning.”

His mouth dropped open. “Injure their—”

She stared up at him, her expression utterly serious. “You are—” He just couldn’t go on.

“I am what?”

“You are, without a doubt, the most perverse female I have ever met.”

She straightened, smiled. The carriage lurched back in the other direction, only she had a hand strap to hang on to so she kept her place. “Thank you.”

“It was not a compliment.”

“I didn’t take it as such.” She pressed her lips together, her nose wrinkling in that silly way she had. Then she leaned closer to him, dropping her voice. “But you really should take my advice. It’s as plain as the holes in my half-boots that you’re battling an overwhelming urge to kiss me. You need to do something about it afore things get out of hand.”

She had holes in her half-boots?

“The only urge I am battling is to—” He broke off, trying to reel himself in before he said something ignoble.

“To what?”

“To do something detrimental to your health.” Demme, that had slipped.

“My health? Why would you want to give me air and exercise? Not my fault you can’t control yourself.”

He could feel a pulse beating at his temples. “I assure you, Mrs. Callahan, I am in no danger of losing control.”

“Do you deny wanting to kiss me mums?”

“I admit no such thing. What is more, this conversation is over.”

“Don’t try to bamboozle me, my lord. Horses make a low, throaty snort before they want to take a roll. You’re making that noise now.”

“Horses— Snort—” “Or are you afraid?” “Driver,” he called.

“Aye, you’re afraid to admit you desire me.”

“Pull over,” he ordered when the hatch opened.

“Aye, afraid to give in to the craving, not that I want you to. Don’t get me wrong.”

“Gabby should be allowed to stretch out as she sleeps,” he said more to himself than as an excuse to her.

Mary Callahan’s eyes narrowed. He could read the expression on her face. “Coward,” she said.

Indeed, he was.

When they came to a stop, he couldn’t escape fast enough, though he took his time making sure Gabby was settled first.

“If it starts raining again you can always come back inside.”

He looked up, his hand on the door. The sight of her sitting there with such a gamine grin on her face made him realize that he would welcome a cold rain shower. Indeed, the colder, the better.

Coward.

Aye, that he was. But Mary couldn’t be hard on him. No indeed. She should thank him, for she didn’t want to ride with him any more than he wanted to ride with
her.
Except that she bleedin’ missed sparring with him, she did. Aye, unbelievably, she’d started to like him. Ridiculous, for where the blazes could such liking lead?

Aye, but for a brief, silly second, she allowed herself to engage in a far-fetched fantasy. What if he fell in love with her like the fairy prince had fallen in love with the beautiful fairy princess in that bedtime story her mam used to tell her afore she went off and deserted her. What if such a thing were to happen? Not that it would, but what if? What would it be like to have a roof that didn’t leak brackish water atop your head? To never again have a stomach scorch from the inside out when hunger got the best of one simply because her pet monkey damaged something on accident? To know that you were safe and secure and not at the mercy of Lady Luck. Aye. That would be a prime bit of fun.

She shook her head as she stared outside the carriage, scenery slowly slipping by. Fence posts, trees, sagging roofs on tiny cottages, and sheep…lots of sheep. Their two worlds were far apart, she admitted. Aye, she might give him trouble about his dealings with his daughter, but who was she to preach? She hardly spoke to her own father and brothers anymore. Fact is, she likely still wouldn’t have spoken to her father if he hadn’t summoned her back from London to help him in his fool scheme. She and her father didn’t exactly see eye to eye, part of the reason she’d been so incensed that he’d dare to beg for her assistance.

She glanced down at the child lying next to her, a little girl that would never want for a thing. Who would always have her father’s love. Such a pretty thing when she wasn’t awake. Looked like his lordship, she did. There could be no doubt about that. She almost reached out and stroked her ink-black hair. Almost. Instead she dropped her hand back to her side, wrinkling her nose at the silly urge. The child didn’t want kindness from Mary. And who could blame her? Mary wasn’t the loving sort. She never had been. She’d begun to think she didn’t have whatever it was women had that made them go goggle-eyed over a bantling.

You’re goggle-eyed over his lordship.

Aye, she lusted after him, no doubt about it. And that were surprising. And unexpected.

She looked out the window again, her thoughts racing, and then without even realizing what she did, reached up and undid the clasp on her cloak. Cool air worked its way through the door, the air more chill as they passed beneath trees. As gently as she could—so as not to disturb the girl—she pulled the cloak off and laid it over her.

No reason for the lass to freeze now, was there?