The Fall of Lord Drayson (Tanglewood Book 1) (18 page)

As Lucy walked away from Knotting Tree, she drew in a breath of nearly spring air and lifted her face to the lightest part of the sky, knowing the sun lurked behind the blanket of clouds. Despite all her regrets, she was most definitely wiser today than she had been yesterday, and that knowledge bolstered her spirits a little. Perhaps there was hope for her yet.

Lucy found the earl in the stables, leading Athena from her stall. He looked fresh and handsome, and the memory of the kiss they’d shared came back with a jolt. Her pulse quickened her heartbeat, and Lucy felt the sudden urge to run away. Only moments before, as she’d walked through the wilderness that separated Tanglewood from Knotting Tree, she had felt so courageous, so ready to blurt out the truth and accept the consequences of her actions. But a mere sighting of Lord Drayson sent all that courage skittering away like dozens of mice on the run.

“Yellow suits you, Miss Beresford,” said the earl when he spotted her. Admiration gleamed in his eyes, and his lips quirked up in a smile. “You look like sunshine itself this morning.”

“Thank you,” she said, too distracted to think much of the compliment. She wished he would return to ordering her about and making demands in that high-handed way she’d once so despised. It would make confessing much easier. “I think we have moved beyond Miss Beresford, don’t you? I give you leave to call me Lucy. And where are you taking Athena?”

“Your timing couldn’t be more impeccable, Miss Beresford. I am about to hitch her to the cart for your next lesson. And I have been wrong to call you by your Christian name. While I am still your coachman, I’m afraid that Miss Beresford it must be.”

He led the horse toward her, and although a little less intimidated by its size, Lucy still stepped back, giving Lord Drayson and Athena plenty of space. She followed at a safe distance, determined to say what needed saying and be done with it.

“That’s just it, sir.” She settled on calling him “sir” for the time being because she could no longer call him Collins, nor could she blurt out his title yet either. “The truth of the matter is that you are not my coachman. In actuality, you are—”

“Anxious to see you wear that ghastly hat?” he interrupted, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Of course I am. But I also promised to do my best to instruct you how to drive, and a promise is a promise, is it not? Do you also wish to learn how to hitch a horse to the cart, or will that be a lesson for another day?”

If only there would be another day to look forward to, Lucy thought sadly as she followed him toward the cart. “Before you proceed, there is something of great importance that I absolutely must say to you, and it cannot wait another moment.”

He continued to harness the horse as though he hadn’t heard a word she’d said, or perhaps he didn’t want to hear it, which was strange. If Lucy were in his position, she would be all ears, her curiosity such that it was.

Lord Drayson finished with the horse and patted its side. “Whatever you have to say can wait until after our drive.”

“No, it cannot.” She folded her arms to emphasize her point, but as before, he didn’t seem to care.

“Yes, it can,” he said a little more firmly as held his hand out to Lucy. His mouth lifted into a smile that sent her heart racing again. “Today is not so beautiful as yesterday, but it is somewhat warm and we mustn’t waste it. I propose an exhilarating drive before we plant your precious seeds.”

It didn’t escape Lucy’s notice that a much-needed talk had not factored into his plans for the day, and she refused to allow that to happen. “And I propose we talk
now
.”

He let out a sigh, but his hand remained extended toward her. “After our drive. Please, Lucy? One more drive is all I ask.” It was both a plea and a compromise, and along with the use of her Christian name, Lucy felt her resistance begin to crumble. Why was he so unwilling to listen?

“Besides,” he added with a smirk. “I already know what you are planning to say, and I don’t wish to hear it.”

“And what is it you believe I’m planning to say?” asked Lucy, suddenly anxious. Had his memory returned? No. He would be yelling at her or demanding answers. He certainly wouldn’t be trying to convince her to take a ride with him. Or perhaps the reason he wanted to drive with her was because he planned to strangle her without anyone hearing and leave her body for the crickets and grasshoppers.

Lord Drayson stepped close to her, and Lucy suddenly found it very difficult to breath. Goodness, he was heavenly to look at.

He spoke slowly. “You are planning to say that you are incapable of learning the art of driving and wish to be released from our wager.”

Lucy blinked at him in confusion. Surely he didn’t really think such a ridiculous thing. She might be afraid of horses, but she would not stoop to the cowardly act of crying off from their wager. “I would never—”

“Prove it,” he said. “Allow me to assist you into the cart and show me that you can do better than yesterday.”

“I can,” she blurted, for she certainly could not do any worse. “But not until—”

“No buts.” He tapped his finger against her lips, causing Lucy’s heart to drop to her slippers.

Her mind lost all coherent thought, and the only thing she could manage to say was a repeat of his words. “No buts.”

His lips lifted into a wide smile as he took her hand in his and led her toward the cart. This time, he did not meet much resistance. She climbed slowly into the cart, feeling like she’d lost the first battle in a war she was fated to lose as well.

As soon as the earl had joined her in the cart, Lucy gathered the ribbons in her hands and immediately whipped them the way Lord Drayson had done. Much to her surprise, Athena began walking.

Her mouth parted as she glanced at the earl, first with awe and then in triumph. “Did I not tell you I would do better than yesterday?”

His hands grabbed hers and yanked them to the left to keep the cart’s wheel from smashing into a fence pole. “Do not put the cart before the horse, Lu—Miss Beresford—or it will surely be your downfall.”

Lucy glared at the earl before taking control of the ribbons again, this time directing her focus on Athena and where she wanted the horse to go. It went much better, and she even found herself enjoying the ride.

“Tell me, Miss Beresford,” said the earl as they traveled along. “What would you do if a highwayman burst from the trees and pointed a gun at you?”

Lucy pretended not to be surprised by the question and kept her expression impassive. “I would stop Athena like this.” She tugged on the reins and felt a moment’s thrill when the horse ceased walking. “And then I would say to the man, ‘What is it you wish to steal from me, sir? My cart? My horse? My dress? Because I’m afraid that is all I can offer, unless you would care to hear a sermon about the merits of living a life devoid of thievery. I am a vicar’s daughter, you know, so I do have a great many things to say on the subject.’”

The earl laughed, and his shoulder brushed against hers, causing her arm to erupt in gooseflesh. “I almost feel sorry for the poor fellow.”

“Poor fellow, indeed. He is attempting to rob me.”

“Yes, and is about to receive a lecture on the importance of integrity as a result.”

Integrity.
Who was Lucy to offer up a sermon on that particular subject? She frowned as an oft-quoted verse from the bible came to her mind.
He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone.

Lucy shouldn’t be allowed to cast
that
stone.

“What if a carriage came racing toward us on the opposite side of the road?” asked Lord Drayson. “How would you respond to that?”

Perfectly content to dismiss her guilt-ridden thoughts, Lucy coaxed Athena to the side of the road. The earl only had to grab her hands once to keep the cart from falling into a ditch.

The lesson continued, and two hours later, Lucy drove up the path with far more confidence in her driving skills. After coming away from Mr. Shepherd’s feeling like a silly and reckless schoolgirl, it bolstered her to finally do something right. And not just anything—Lucy could now drive a cart.

Ever since the death of her father, she had worried what would happen to her if the same fate befell her mother. Lucy had led such a sheltered existence that she had never felt ready to be on her own. It was one of the reasons she had begged and pleaded to remain behind with Georgina. She wanted to prove to herself, and her mother, that she could manage perfectly well on her own should she wind up an orphan or a spinster. That, and Lucy did not wish to accompany her mother in the slightest. She had little desire to be trapped inside the small hovel her cousins called home. The last time she had made the journey, Lucy had vowed never to return. It had been filthy and overrun with children, two of which Lucy had to share a bed with.

In the end, Mrs. Beresford had relented, only because she knew how miserable her daughter would be if she came along. And so Lucy had stayed. Now here she was, driving a cart and getting ready to plant seeds for a vegetable garden—all due to Lord Drayson’s encouragement. How very sad it was that while she had been occupied with pulling the wool over his eyes, he had, in many ways, opened hers.

The guilt gnawed at her insides as she drove the cart back to the stables and pulled Athena to an efficient stop.

The earl clapped. “Bravo, Miss Beresford. Bravo. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”

Lucy couldn’t help but glow a little with the praise. As he lifted her down from the cart, she even went so far as to inquire, “Does this make me the victor of our wager? Am I free to gloat now and go fetch that hat for you to wear?”

He sat her on the ground and smiled, keeping his hands on her waist. “Gloat away, Miss Beresford. You have earned it.”

“I owe it all to you.” She attempted to keep her tone light, but the words sounded far more somber than playful. Lucy swallowed, knowing the time had come for their talk. He had asked that she wait until after their drive, and she had. But before Lucy angered him with the truth, she wanted him to know how indebted she was to him. So with her hands still on his shoulders, she said, “Thank you, Col—sir, for not only teaching me to drive but for helping me with my garden and making me a little less afraid of the horses.”

“I shall be glad to help you conquer your fear of the beasts completely if you’ll let me,” he said.

Lucy fingers fiddled with the collar of his shirt. Her next words would have him withdrawing that offer, along with his hands from around her waist. If only she could live in this fairy tale a while longer.

If only . . .

“When we first met,” Lucy began, “I did not hold you in the highest of regard, and as a result, I did something—
said
something, really—that I—”

“Do you hold me in high regard now, Lucy?” He drew her nearer, and she came willingly.

“I thought you mustn’t call me that,” she whispered.

“It seems I cannot help it.”

Lucy was fully in his arms now, her body pressed against his and more than happy to remain there. But she shouldn’t. She needed to tell him the truth—now—before he did something he would undoubtedly regret.

“I’ll say it again,” he said, searching her face. “Do you hold me in high regard now?”

Lucy closed her eyes, not wanting to see the warmth in his eyes dwindle into anger. “The highest,” she said. “But—”

She gasped as his warm lips landed on hers, silencing the words that were proving very difficult to say. This would be the last time she would ever kiss the Earl of Drayson, and so Lucy threw caution to the wind and wound her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with a fervor that would shock her mama. She wanted to remember this moment forever—remember him—so she slid her fingers through his hair, feeling each bump and curve of his head. He tasted like peach preserves and smelled of the outdoors, with that familiar hint of sandalwood.

It was a kiss of remembrance and goodbye, and Lucy held nothing back, wishing it could be a kiss of new beginnings instead.

“Lucy Beresford, get away from that man this moment!” shrilled a voice that made Lucy’s stomach twist into knots. She sprang away from the earl and glanced at him only briefly before closing her eyes in shame. Of all the people who could have happened upon them now, why did it have to be Mrs. Bidding?

The woman was standing not far away with her hands on her hips, her lips puckered tightly, and her face redder than Lucy had ever seen. The shade looked dreadful against the orange ribbon tied under her chin.

“Explain yourself, sir!” she commanded the earl. “How dare you take advantage of this young woman in the absence of her mother.”

Lucy peeked at Lord Drayson, surprised that he didn’t appear the least embarrassed or shamefaced. How was he not trembling in fear as she was? Obviously he had never known the displeasure of Mrs. Bidding.

He cleared his throat. “You are quite right to find me at fault, Mrs. . . .”

“Bidding,” the woman supplied.

“Mrs. Bidding,” he repeated. “I am very much in the wrong and apologize profusely for taking advantage of such an innocent as Miss Beresford. I have no excuse other than to say that her loveliness overcame my good sense.”