The Revenge of Lord Eberlin (6 page)

“Come along. I’ll take you home.”

“Why?”

“I told you. It will rain soon and you have no cloak from the look of it, and I’ll not have your death on my conscience.”

“People don’t die from
rain,
” she said stubbornly.

“Are you quite certain of that?”

She frowned, as if she was privately debating that,
then looked at his horse. “Do you mean to take me on
that
?” she asked. “I don’t like horses. Once, a horse bit me.”

“Indeed,” he said and stood.

“Like this,” she said and snapped at him, her teeth bared.

“I have never, in all my years, seen a horse bite like that,” he said skeptically. “Nevertheless, I assure you I am a competent horseman. You will not fall, and he will not bite you. Come.” He held out his hand to her.

The girl eyed him warily before slipping her hand into his. “My name is Miss Lucy Taft. What is your name?”

“Eberlin,” he said.

“Oh! I know very well who
you
are,” she said breezily as they walked to where his horse was grazing. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

“Have you,” he said wryly and lifted her up to sit before the saddle. “Hold onto his mane,” he instructed. She gripped the horse’s mane as he lifted himself up behind her.

“The countess does not care for you, you know,” she continued.

“Doesn’t she?”

“Oh, no. She once liked you quite a lot, when you were a boy, but she said you became a horrible man when you grew up. You’re not really a lord, are you? Lady Ashwood says you are not
really
a lord, for you
don’t have an
English
title. Perhaps you didn’t know you were to have an English title.”

Tobin glanced heavenward and put his arm around her small middle, anchoring her to him. As he started his horse forward, Lucy Taft gasped and grabbed his arm that held the reins.

“Miss Taft, you make it impossible for me to guide the horse. Let go of my arm.”

“I
told
you I don’t like to ride.”

“Let go,” he said again. “I have a very firm grasp of you.”

She reluctantly let go and shrank back into his chest. “I don’t like riding in the least. I don’t know why everyone does, really. The pretend countess, she liked it very much. She raced about on horses, and she wanted me to do the same. I fear she’ll expect me to ride about all of Ireland. I rather like carriages, don’t you? I like the very big ones, for the smaller ones are quite close. Once, I went into the village with Mrs. Thorpe and Peter, the kitchen boy, in the old carriage, and it was
quite
close, and Peter didn’t smell very nice, and I had to hold my breath the
whole way.
”

Lucy Taft continued to natter on and, much like his niece, Catherine, was either oblivious or uncaring that Tobin didn’t answer. When they reached the road to Ashwood, he sent the horse to a trot, and Miss Taft shrieked loud enough to wake the dead. But Tobin was anxious to hand her off to a servant and return to Tiber Park before the rains began in earnest.

Ashwood looked almost foreboding in the gloomy light. Tobin thought he saw a movement of light in one of the windows of the upper floor, and he imagined Lily looking out that window fifteen years ago.

Whatever had happened that night, he could scarcely bear to think of it without fearing another attack.

“Why do you suppose it rains in summer? It rains
all
the time in winter, and I think that should be
enough
rain for the year, wouldn’t you?” Lucy Taft asked.

They had reached the drive, and Tobin reined his horse to a halt. “Here we are.” He swung off his horse, then lifted her down, and as he was putting her on the ground, the Ashwood coach barreled into the drive.

Tobin looked down at the girl. “Mind you go straight inside.”

“Will you come in for tea?” she asked. “The countesses always serve tea when someone comes to call.”

“I would hardly term this a call,” he said, watching the coach door swing open and Lily fairly leap out of it. She rushed toward them, Mr. Fish close behind. “Lucy! Lucy, come here at once!” she called.

Lucy smiled up at Tobin. “Thank you,” she said and scampered forward to meet her guardian.

Lily looked the girl up and down before handing her off to Mr. Fish, then came striding toward Tobin, her expression furious, and apparently heedless of the rain that was beginning to fall.

“Well, Lady Ashwood, it would seem we meet yet again,” Tobin said.

“What do you think you are doing?” she demanded.

“Obviously, I am delivering your ward. She was wandering about the woods without a cloak.”

“Please!” she scoffed. “Do not take me for a fool!”

“What, then? Do you think I was spying? Preying on children?”

“What do you expect,
Count
Eberlin? You have stolen land and tenants from me—why should I think you above spying and kidnapping?”

“My, my,” Tobin said, trying as best he might to keep his voice even. “You are accusing me of any number of things today—stealing, spying, abduction. I sound quite vile even to my own ears.” He stepped forward, so close that she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes. “Let me assure you, Lady Ashwood, that I am merely righting a very deep wrong. I do not need to
spy.
”

The color in Lily’s cheeks deepened, and her dark brows dipped in a deep V of displeasure. “Is that so? Then tell me, how else would you know which tenants are ripe for the picking? Be forewarned—I will fight you at every turn.”

Tobin arched a brow with amusement. “
Fight
me? If you want to fight, I will not stop you. If anything, it ought to make things interesting.”

“Go on, then,” she seethed. “Underestimate me. I will find a way to stop you, and I will show you
no
mercy.”

He didn’t know the meaning of the word. Tobin
could feel the band tightening around his chest, and he knew he should leave her to stew in her juices, but he could not help letting his gaze casually wander her lush form. She surprised him. He’d expected her to topple into a crying heap of crinoline, but she had responded with determination. In another place or time, he might have appreciated it more than he did at present.

“I do not wish for mercy, Lily. That will make it all the sweeter when I bring you to heel.” His gaze met her pale green eyes. “And let me be perfectly clear.” His gaze fell to her lips. “I
will
bring you to heel.”

He expected a maidenly gasp, but Lily brazenly stepped closer to him, her eyes glittering with undiluted ire. “Do you honestly think you will intimidate me with innuendo? Let
me
be perfectly clear, sir. Do not step foot on Ashwood soil again. And stay away from me and mine!” She whirled around, marching toward her house.

Tobin watched her go in, ushering Miss Taft before her. The butler wasted no time in shutting the door at her back. The rain was falling harder, but Tobin scarcely noticed it. His body was hard from tension and desire. His fist was clenched, and his breathing labored. He made himself turn away and mount his horse, then spurred it to a run, pulling his hat low over his eyes to keep the rain from them.

Lily Boudine was bloody beautiful.

More was the pity.

L
ily was still outraged as she marched Lucy into the library to find out how the girl had come to be in that man’s presence. “Foolish girl!” Lily scolded her and wrapped her arms tightly around her. “Where did you go? Where have you been?”

“I didn’t want my music lesson. I went for a walkabout in the woods,” Lucy said into her chest.

Lily let Lucy go, leaning back to have a look at her. “A
walkabout
? And why didn’t you tell anyone?”

The girl looked contrite. “I wanted to tell you, mu’um, but there was no one about and Linford said you’d gone into the village. I didn’t think there was any harm.”

“Well, there was,” Lily said. “Look at the rain! You might have caught your death.”

“That’s what Count Eberlin said as well when he made me come home,” Lucy said morosely.

Lily exchanged a look with Mr. Fish, who stood
quietly across the room. Lily waited for Lucy to say more, but she merely fidgeted with her sash. Lily put her arm around Lucy’s slender shoulders, then smoothed her mussed blonde hair from her face. “Darling, you
must
have a care. Not everyone you may meet is kind, and Eberlin especially not! Have I not warned you about him?”

“But he was kind to me.”

Dear God. Lily led Lucy to a divan and sat her down. “Where did you happen upon him? In the park?”

Lucy shook her head. “In the woods.”

“The woods! What on earth were you doing in the woods?”

“I only went to the cottage!” Lucy cried. “I’ve been there lots before—”

“What cottage?”

“The one by the river. By the church that’s falling down. It’s boarded up, and part of the roof has come down. But there are two chairs and a cat that lives inside, and sometimes I go round to see that he’s fed. He likes rotten potatoes, can you imagine?”

Uppington Church.
Lily knew it well. There was hardly anything left of the church. The cottage on its grounds had been abandoned many years ago, and Lily had played there as a child, pretending it was a castle, and she its chatelaine. The memory gave her a curious twist in her belly; she suddenly recalled her aunt Althea standing in the foyer of Ashwood, smiling brightly, telling Lily to go on with Tobin and play.
Behind her, Mr. Scott, looking so admiringly at her aunt …

Lily closed her eyes a moment to banish the image. “Was Eberlin in the cottage, Lucy?” She wondered if he remembered their excursions to Uppington Church. She did. She remembered him vividly.

Lucy shook her head again. “No, mu’um. He hadn’t gone as far as that. He was sitting on a rock. I think he was weeping.”

Weeping?

“He was sitting on a rock thus,” Lucy said, perching on the edge of the divan and propping her elbows on her knees. “And his head was down just so,” she said, and put her hands on either side of her head. “I saw him, but he didn’t see me. He took great gulps of air and I thought perhaps he was sad, and I said, are you weeping? And he looked at me strangely and said he was not, that he was quite all right, and that I would catch my death and I was to go home at once, and then he asked where I lived, and I told him I lived here with you, but that I would leave for Ireland soon, for the first countess wishes to adopt me and make me Irish, just like her, and he said he should take me because it was too far to walk before it rained. I didn’t want to go, because I do not care for horses, really—that is, I do not care to
ride
them. I do like to pet them. Mr. Bechtel lets me feed apples—”

“Darling, what happened then?” Lily asked, bringing her back to the point.

“What? Oh yes, he brought me home. I invited him for tea. I should have, should I not? But he said no.”

“That’s all there is?” Lily prodded.

Lucy shrugged. “I wonder why he should be weeping. Perhaps he lost his dog.”

“I hardly think he was weeping,” Lily said with a wry smile. Plotting his next act of malice was more likely. “Now see here, young miss, you are not to wander off without telling someone where you are going. And if you think to wander all the way to Uppington Church, you must have someone with you. That’s very far!”

“It’s not so far,” Lucy protested, but Lily touched her finger to her lips to keep her from saying more.

“An escort,” she said again.

Lucy slouched against the back of the divan. “Very well,” she said, resigned.

“Go and ask Mrs. Thorpe to draw you a bath, and tell Ann she must wash your hair,” she added at the sight of Lucy’s tangled locks.

With a great sigh, Lucy stood up. “I don’t
like
baths,” she muttered as she went.

When Lucy had gone, Lily looked at Mr. Fish. “What was he doing in the woods, with his head between his hands? He looked rather triumphant this morning, did he not?” she demanded. “I do not trust him at all.”

“I think he now has what he wants,” Mr. Fish said calmly.

“The acreage?” Lily thought of what Tobin had said to her weeks ago, that he intended to ruin her. And
what he’d said on the drive today—that he would bring her to heel. She suddenly hugged herself against the small, not unpleasant tremor that shot through her. Tobin was a vile, evil man . . . but he also had the sort of bold virility that made parents want to lock their daughters’ doors and daughters want to climb out windows.