The Princess & the Pea (17 page)

She gasped in a valiant effort to regain her shattered senses. "And I firmly intend to let you."

Jared leaned back against the tufted leather seat of his brougham and gazed idly at the city streets passing by, confident in the skill of his driver at the reins. Once again he was on his way to attend yet another of the endless social events London society prided itself on.

It had become a pattern this past week. Jared did indeed throw himself headlong into courting Cece. He made it a point to be at every function she attended; he accompanied her on rides in the park, in carriages and on horseback, as often as possible, and he even attempted to create a good impression with her father.

Jared was surprised to discover he liked Henry White, and White seemed to return his regard, once the American got over his innate distrust of anyone who would dare to pursue his daughter. Jared could well see where Cece obtained her strong opinions about men having to work to achieve success. With this self-made millionaire as a model, how could she think anything else?

Henry White may well have been responsible for the obstinate streak in his offspring as well. Jared tried everything he could think of to dissuade her from the ridiculous notion of learning to drive his automobile. His efforts fell on ears not only deaf but every argument seemed merely to encourage her resistance. In spite of his continued irritation, he couldn't help but admire the strength of her will.

Still, the very thought of a woman at the controls of his machine was absurd. Certainly he had allowed her that privilege when they first met. But it had been a momentary lapse in judgment, nothing more. He could admit, if only to himself, that while his purpose in that venture had not been seduction, as Cece had so indignantly claimed, he had hoped to impress the enthusiastic and damned pretty American with his automobile.

Persistence was not all he admired about Cece. With every day. every hour, every moment spent in her company he fell more and more under the spell of a woman he found not only fascinating but irresistible. She had a wry wit that left him struggling for a quick retort or choked with laughter. She was surprisingly intelligent, an attribute he rarely noticed in women of her social class. And with each kiss stolen in a rare moment of privacy, he could taste the hint, the suggestion, the promise of an imprisoned passion he ached to release.

He would have this American as his own, forever. And if he had to risk his automobile in the process, he sighed to himself, it would be a small price to pay. The merest gaze into the deep chocolate of her eyes was enough to cause him to vanquish all thoughts of machines and progress and the oncoming twentieth century and agree to anything and everything she wished.

Still, he hoped it would be unnecessary. He had a trump card hidden well up his sleeve. If played correctly, it would assure her hand in marriage before he was forced to go through the farce of allowing her to touch his motorcar. Jared grinned at the thought. Seduction was no longer a last resort.

"I believe that's sufficient for our first lesson," Jared said, a note of finality in his tone.

"Sufficient?" Cece stared, astonished. "This is it? All you intend to do?" She gestured vigorously toward the vehicles standing untouched in the stables. "I haven't so much as placed a foot in one of your automobiles."

"Nor shall you," he said under his breath, so low she must have misheard. He shook his head firmly. "Regardless, it's getting late. It shall soon be time to dress for dinner. And the rest of Mother's guests should have arrived by now."

He leveled her a stern glance. "Surely you wouldn't want anyone to notice our absence, would you?"

"Of course not." She planted her hands on her hips and glared. "But for the past hour you have done nothing save lecture me on the workings of the automobile. You have thoroughly acquainted me with various theories of propulsion. You have familiarized me with the mechanical intricacies of your machine. You have droned on and on about which gear does what to what and why until I want nothing more than to shove the whole thing, and its owner, back into the blasted pond!"

"One needs to know how things work before one can master them." he said in a superior manner.

Her hand itched to smack the smug expression off his face. "Stuff and nonsense," she snapped. "I haven't the vaguest concept of the internal anatomy of a horse, yet I find I can handle the animal with ease."

"Horses," he smiled condescendingly, "are far different from automobiles."

"No doubt." Irritation rang in her voice. "Will an automobile balk if a dog runs across the road? Will an automobile bloat its stomach to ensure you end up thrown from your seat at an inopportune moment? Will an automobile totally disregard your direction and instead insist on going where it wishes to go? It seems to me driving an automobile would be quite a bit easier than riding a horse."

"Nonetheless ..." he said, in a patient voice she would have thought reserved for small children or the feeble-minded. Her annoyance grew. "We are finished for today."

"Jared," she resisted the impulse to stamp her foot in exasperation. "I am no closer to learning to drive a motorcar now than when we got here. Although, I daresay, I could probably build one."

"Cece ..." He leaned toward her ominously, his tall figure blocking out the late afternoon sun. His dark eyes gleamed and delicious fear shivered through her. His voice was little more than a growl. "I have agreed to your ridiculous demand to teach you to drive. I shall perform that heinous task my way in my own time. I do not intend to turn over the automobile I have spent years of my life developing to anyone without proper preparation.

"Furthermore, I am not fully convinced it is not against nature to mix women and mechanics." A sly smile curved his lips. "For example, name one female inventor."

"That's not the point," she said loftily.

His smile blossomed to a smirk. "I thought as much. But for your next lesson I will allow you to sit behind the controls of an automobile." He gestured at the two vehicles flanking the center motorcar. "One of those perhaps."

"Jared!" She fairly sputtered his name, her throat choked with indignation. "You told me yourself those two are not completed." She narrowed her eyes and glared. "They don't run, Jared."

He shrugged casually. "They will serve quite well for your first experience in the driver's seat. Now ..." He stepped away and closed the great doors of the stable. They shut with a shuddering thud that marked the end of her first session of instruction as surely as the final curtain on a three-act play. Cece stared in frustration.

Jared strode toward the lane and the long walk back. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. "I'm returning home. Are you coming?"

"I don't see that I have much of a choice." she muttered and scrambled to catch up with him.

Cece fell into step beside him and attempted to match his long strides with her own. She was unused to men being more than an inch or so taller man she. Jared's height and the length of his gait was both pleasing and a challenge. The return trek to Graystone Castle was a long one, and a silence Cece considered anything but companionable lay between them.

She fumed to herself. Obviously she had vastly underestimated Jared. Oh, certainly, the man had grudgingly acquiesced to her insistence on learning to drive, but at this rate she'd be in her dotage before she ever set a course at the helm of an automobile. This was not going at all well.

She stole a glance at Jared. The satisfied smile on his face was more than enough to confirm her suspicion that he had no intention of placing his precious automobile in her feminine clutches. No doubt he planned to stretch out his so-called lessons until she threw up her hands in despair and resignation.

What would Nellie Bly do ?

The question hit her like a thunderbolt, and the answer came just as swift. Nellie Bly would never let a mere man get in the way of something she wanted. Why, she'd competed with men throughout her career and emerged triumphant as often as not. No, Nellie Bly would not give up, and neither would Cece.

She mirrored his smug smile with her own. The Earl of Graystone might have generations of history in his comer, but Cecily Gwendolyn White was a product of a country young, strong and dedicated. This was one American determined to show this one Englishman that in a battle of wits, she was far better armed than he.

She cast him another quick glance. Jared again wore the same kind of casual garb he'd had on when they first met, clothes more suitable to a penniless inventor than a lord of the realm. In this guise he was rugged and earthy, and her heart melted with the look of him. This was no earl beside her now: this was the passionate man who'd captured her imagination the moment he launched into his first speech about the benefits of gas power versus steam.

A thought struck her abruptly. "Do you still wish to manufacture automobiles?"

He laughed, a harsh, mirthless sound. His expression was set, resolved. "I told you in Paris, that was a foolish dream."

"I don't see whym" she said stubbornly. "I don't see why you can't do anything you want to if you work at it hard enough."

"You are an innocent." He cast her a rueful glance. "Are you typical of Americans in general, or are you completely unique?"

"Both. My countrymen are very ambitious and truly believe in the benefits of labor." She tossed him an impish grin. "I admit I happen to be a tad more ... shall we say
opinionated
than others. Now," her tone turned brisk, "you are avoiding my question."

He blew a heavy sigh and gazed at the road winding ahead of him. It was a moment before he spoke, his words thoughtful and resigned. "I can no longer spend the time I once did working on the automobiles. Moments here, these days, are stolen hours. When I was merely the younger son I was not expected to occupy my time with anything considered worthwhile. I was more or less left to my own devices."

"Which, in part, explains the rather impressive reputation you've achieved with the fairer sex. Or so I've heard," she said wryly.

He flashed her a quick grin and nodded. "But I spent as much time, if not more, developing the vehicles. Quentin and I have worked together for a number of years.

"Now all has changed." He waved at the land spread out before them. "With James's death, all this became my responsibility. Management of the estate, juggling of finances, even social position now falls to me."

His voice softened and his eyes reflected a pride that brought a lump to her throat. "I love this land. I never dreamed someday I'd be charged with its custody. We have tenant farmers here. Free men, of course, who walk the same land trod by their fathers and their grandfathers before them. Men whose heritage here is as great as mine, whose roots go as deeply into the soil here as the ancient oaks. Just as their ancestors did, they look to the castle for leadership and direction. To me.

"When I took over I initiated the most modem, up-to-date methods of land management possible, but with agricultural prices being what they are these days, the estate still barely brings in enough to break even.