“Why not?” he asked.
“Because it’s too early to do so?” The dog leaned against Anna as she petted him.
Lord Swartingham scowled at the oblivious hound. “You mug,” he said.
“I beg your pardon!”
The earl turned his scowl on her. “Not you, the dog.”
“Who is it, Anna?” Mother Wren stood on the stairs, peering anxiously down. Fanny hovered in the hall.
“It’s the Earl of Swartingham, Mother,” Anna said as if it were usual for peers to come calling before breakfast. She turned back to him and said more formally, “May I present my mother-in-law, Mrs. Wren. Mother, this is his lordship, Edward de Raaf, the Earl of Swartingham.”
Mother Wren, in a frothy pink wrapper, bobbed a perilous curtsy on the stairs. “How do you do?”
“A pleasure, I’m sure, ma’am,” the man at the door muttered.
“Has he broken his fast yet?” Mother Wren asked Anna.
“I don’t know.” Anna swiveled to Lord Swartingham, whose scarred cheeks were reddening. “Have you broken your fast yet?”
“I . . .” He seemed uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He frowned harder.
“Ask him in, Anna, do,” Mother Wren prompted.
“Won’t you please join us for breakfast, my lord?” Anna inquired sweetly.
The earl nodded. Still frowning, he ducked his head to clear the lintel and stepped inside the cottage.
The elder Mrs. Wren swept down the staircase, fuchsia ribbons fluttering. “I am so glad to meet you, my lord. Fanny, hurry and put the kettle on.”
Fanny squealed and dashed into the kitchen. Mother Wren ushered their guest into the tiny sitting room, and Anna noticed it seemed to shrink in size as he entered it. He sat down gingerly on the only armchair while the ladies took the settee. The dog happily made a circuit of the room, poking his nose into corners until the earl growled at him to sit down.
Mother Wren smiled brightly. “Anna must have been mistaken when she said you’d sacked her.”
“What?” He gripped the arms of his chair.
“She was under the impression that you would no longer have need of a secretary.”
“Mother,” Anna whispered.
“That is what you said, dear.”
The earl’s eyes were intent on Anna. “She was mistaken. She is still my secretary.”
“Oh, how nice!” Mother Wren positively beamed. “She was quite upset last night when she thought she was no longer employed.”
“Mother—”
The older woman leaned forward confidentially as if Anna had disappeared from the room. “Why, her eyes were quite red when she came in from the carriage. I think she may have been weeping.”
“Mother!”
Mrs. Wren turned an innocent gaze on her daughter-in-law. “Well, they were, dear.”
“Were they, indeed?” the earl murmured. His own ebony eyes gleamed.
Fortunately, Fanny saved her from making a reply by entering with the breakfast tray. Anna noted with relief that the girl had thought to make coddled eggs and to toast some bread to go with their usual porridge. She’d even found a bit of ham. Anna sent an approving nod to the little maid, who grinned back cheekily.
After the earl had partaken of a truly amazing quantity of coddled eggs—what luck that Fanny had gone to market only yesterday—he rose and thanked Mother Wren for the breakfast. Mother Wren smiled flirtatiously at him, and Anna wondered how long it would be before the whole village heard that they had entertained the Earl of Swartingham in their wrappers.
“Can you dress for riding, Mrs. Wren?” the earl asked Anna. “I have my gelding and Daisy waiting outside.”
“Of course, my lord.” Anna excused herself and went to her room to change.
A few minutes later, she ran back down the stairs and found the earl waiting for her in the front garden. He was contemplating the wet earth to the side of her door where blue grape hyacinth and yellow daffodils were cheerfully blooming. He looked up when she came out of the house, and for an instant, there was an expression in his eyes that made her catch her breath. She glanced down to pull on her gloves and felt her cheeks heat.
“About time,” he said. “We’re later than I had planned.”
Anna ignored his curtness and stood by the mare, waiting for his help to mount. The earl advanced and wrapped his big hands around her waist before throwing her up into the saddle. He stood below her for a moment, the wind teasing a lock of his dark hair, and searched her face. She stared back, all thought having fled from her mind. Then he turned to his own horse and mounted.
The day was bright. Anna didn’t remember hearing rain during the night, but the evidence of it lay everywhere. Puddles stood in the lane, and the trees and fences they passed still dripped. The earl walked the horses out of the village and into the countryside.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Mr. Durbin’s sheep have begun to lamb, and I wanted to see how the ewes are doing.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose I should have told you about today’s outing earlier.”
Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and made a noncommittal sound.
He coughed. “I might’ve, had you not left so precipitously yesterday afternoon.”
She arched a brow but did not reply.
There was a lengthy lull broken only by the dog’s eager yelp as he flushed a rabbit from the hedge along the lane.
Then the earl tried again. “I’ve heard some people say my temper is rather . . .” He paused, apparently searching for a word.
Anna helped him. “Savage?”
He squinted at her.
“Ferocious?”
He frowned and opened his mouth.
She was quicker. “Barbaric?”
He cut her off before she could add to her list. “Yes, well, let us simply say that it intimidates some people.” He hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to intimidate you, Mrs. Wren.”
“You don’t.”
He looked at her swiftly. He didn’t say anymore, but his expression lightened. In another minute, he had kicked the bay into a gallop along the muddy lane, throwing up great clumps of earth. The dog gave chase with his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.
Anna smiled for no reason and lifted her face to the soft morning breeze.
They continued down the lane until they came to a pasture bordered by a stream. The earl leaned down to unlatch the gate, and they rode in. As they neared the far corner, Anna saw that there were five men gathered close to the stream with a number of shepherd dogs milling about.
One of the men, an older fellow with grizzled hair, looked up at their approach. “Milord! Now, here’s a right mess, then.”
“Durbin.” The earl nodded to the farmer and dismounted. He walked over to help Anna dismount. “What’s the problem?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Ewes in th’ stream.” Durbin spat to the side. “Silly drabs. Must’ve followed each other down th’ bank and now can’t come up it. Three of them heavy with lamb, too.”
“Ah.” The earl approached the stream, and Anna followed. She could see now the five ewes caught in the swollen stream. The poor animals were tangled in the debris by an eddy. The bank was almost four feet deep at that particular point and was slippery with mud.
Lord Swartingham shook his head. “There’s no help for it but to use brute force.”
“Just what I was thinking meself.” The farmer nodded approvingly at having his own idea confirmed.
Two men, along with the earl, lay flat on the stream’s bank and reached down to pull on the sheep’s wool. This, with the added incentive of the shepherd dogs harrying them from behind, convinced four of the ewes to scramble up the slimy bank. They tottered off, bleating their confusion at being so ill-used. The fifth ewe, however, was out of reach of the men on the bank. She was either too trapped or too stupid to climb from the stream on her own. Prostrate on her side, she bleated forlornly in the water.
&
nbsp; “Gor. That one’s good and stuck.” Farmer Durbin sighed, and wiped his sweaty brow with the hem of his smock.
“Whyn’t we send old Bess down to plague her, Da?” The farmer’s eldest son fondled the ears of a black and white dog.
“Nay, lad. I don’t want to lose Bess in the water. ’Tis over her head there. One of us’ll have to go in after the daft beast.”
“I’ll do it, Durbin.” The earl stepped away and took off his coat. He threw it to Anna, who barely caught it before it hit the ground. His waistcoat followed, and then he was pulling his fine lawn shirt over his head. He sat on the bank to wrestle off his jackboots.
Anna tried not to stare. She didn’t often see a half-naked man. Actually, she couldn’t remember ever seeing a man without a shirt in public. There were indented pox scars scattered across his torso, but she was more interested in other things. Her imagination had been correct. He did indeed have hair upon his chest. Quite a bit, in fact. Black swirls stretched across his breast and funneled down to his hard stomach. The hair narrowed to a thin ribbon that crossed his flat navel and then disappeared into his breeches.
The earl stood in his stockinged feet and half climbed, half slid down the steep bank and into the water. The muddy stream swirled around his hips as he waded to the side of the frightened ewe. He bent over the animal, working at the branches holding her. His wide shoulders gleamed with sweat and streaks of muck.
A shout rose from the watching men. The ewe was free, but in her haste to escape the stream, she had shouldered the earl, who went down in a geyser of muddy water. Anna gasped and started forward. Lord Swartingham’s dog raced back and forth along the bank, barking excitedly. The earl emerged from the stream like a ragged Poseidon, water running in sheets off his torso. He was grinning even though his hair was plastered to his skull, the ribbon holding it having been lost in the stream.
The dog was still barking his disapproval of the whole proceeding. Meanwhile, the farmer and his relatives staggered about, gasping with laughter and slapping their knees. They were all but rolling on the ground in their hilarity. Anna sighed. Apparently an aristocrat getting a dunking was the most amusing thing the men had ever seen. Males were very perplexing at times.
“Oy! Milord! Do you always have trouble holding your wenches?” one of the men shouted.
“Nay, lad, she just didn’t like the feel of his hand on her arse.” The farmer made a graphic gesture that sent the men off again.
The earl laughed, but nodded toward Anna. Thus reminded of her presence, the men stopped their jests, although they continued to snigger. The earl lifted both hands to slick the water from his face.
Anna caught her breath at the sight. With his hands at the back of his head, squeezing the water from his hair, his muscles stood out in sharp relief. The sun glinted off his flexed arms and chest, and his black underarm hair curled damply. Rivulets of grimy water, mixed with blood from the ewe, ran down his chest and arms. His low-slung breeches clung to his hips and thighs, delineating the bulge of his manhood. He looked quite pagan.
Anna shivered.
The earl waded to shore and climbed the bank with a helping hand from the farmer’s sons. Anna gave herself a shake and hurried over with his clothes.
He used the fine lawn shirt as a towel and then threw on his coat over his bare chest. “Well, Durbin, I hope you will call me the next time you are unable to handle a female.”
“Aye, milord.” The farmer slapped Lord Swartingham on the back. “My thanks for helping us out. Don’t remember when I’ve seen a grander splash.”
That set the men off again, and it was some little while before the earl and Anna could leave. By the time they were mounted, the earl’s body was shaking with cold, but he showed no sign of hurry.
“You’ll catch your death of cold, my lord,” Anna said. “Please ride on to the Abbey ahead of me. You can go much faster without Daisy and me to slow you down.”
“I’m quite all right, Mrs. Wren,” he replied through teeth clenched to keep them from chattering. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to be deprived of your dulcet company for even a moment.”
Anna glared at him for she knew he was being sarcastic. “You don’t have to prove how manly you are by catching the ague.”
“So you consider me manly, Mrs. Wren?” He grinned like a little boy. “I was beginning to think that I battled a stinking sheep for nothing.”
Anna tried, but it was impossible to keep her mouth from twitching. “I didn’t know landowners helped their tenants so,” she said. “Surely it is unusual?”
“Oh, certainly unusual,” he replied. “I suppose the majority of my peers sit in London letting their arses widen while their stewards run their estates.”
“Then why do you choose to wade into muddy streams after sheep?”
The earl shrugged his damp shoulders. “My father taught me that a good landowner knows his tenants and what they are doing. Then, too, I am more involved because of my agricultural studies.” He shrugged again and smiled at her rather ironically. “And I’m fond of wrestling ewes and the like.”
Anna returned the smile. “Did your father wrestle ewes as well?”
There was a silence, and she feared for a moment that she’d asked too personal a question.
“No, I don’t remember him getting that dirty.” Lord Swartingham watched the road ahead. “But he didn’t mind wading into a flooded field in spring or overseeing the harvest in fall. And he always took me with him to mind the people and the land.”
“He must’ve been a wonderful father,” she murmured. To have raised such a wonderful son.
“Yes. If I’m only half as good a father to my own children, I’ll be content.” He looked curiously at her. “You had no children from your marriage?”
Anna glanced down at her hands. They were clenched in fists over the reins. “No. We were married for four years, but it was not God’s will to grace us with children.”
“I’m sorry.” There seemed to be honest regret in the earl’s eyes.
“As am I, my lord.” Every day.
They were silent then until Ravenhill Abbey came into sight.
WHEN ANNA REACHED home that evening, Pearl was sitting up in bed and eating soup with Fanny’s help. She was still thin, but her hair had been pulled back from her temples with a bit of ribbon, and she wore one of the little maid’s old dresses. Anna took over the duty and sent Fanny down to finish making the supper.
“I forgot to thank you, ma’am,” Pearl said shyly.
“It’s quite all right.” Anna smiled. “I only hope you feel better soon.”
The other woman sighed. “Oh, I just need some rest, mostly.”
“Are you from around here, or were you traveling through when you became ill?” Anna proffered a bit of beef.
Pearl chewed slowly and swallowed. “No, ma’am. I was trying to get back to London where I live. A gent brought me out here in a fine carriage promising to set me up proper like.”
Anna raised her brows.
“I thought he was going to put me up in a little cottage.” Pearl smoothed the sheet under her fingers. “I’m getting older, you know. I can’t be working too much longer.”
Anna remained silent.
“But it were just a con,” Pearl said. “He only wanted me for a party with some friends.”
Anna cast about for something to say. “I’m sorry it wasn’t a permanent position.”
“Yeah. And that weren’t even the worst of it. He expected me to entertain him and his two friends.” Pearl’s mouth twisted down.
Two friends? “You mean you were to, um, entertain three gentlemen at once?” Anna asked faintly.
Pearl pursed her lips and nodded. “Yeah. All together or one after another.” She must have seen Anna’s shock. “Some of them fine gentlemen likes to do it together, sort of showing off to each other. But the girl gets hurt lots of times.”
Good Lord. Anna stared at Pearl, appalled.
“But it don�
�t really matter,” Pearl continued. “I walked out.”
Anna could only manage a nod.
“Then I started feeling bad on the coach back. I must’ve dozed off, ’cause next thing I knew, my purse was gone and I was having to try to walk since the coach wouldn’t let me back on without my money.” Pearl shook her head. “I would’ve been dead for sure if you hadn’t found me when you did.”
Anna looked down at her palms. “May I ask you a question, Pearl?”
“Sure. Go ahead.” The other woman folded her hands at her waist and nodded. “Ask me anything you want.”
“Have you heard of an establishment called Aphrodite’s Grotto?”
Pearl cocked her head back against the pillow and looked at Anna curiously. “I didn’t think a lady like you knew about such places, ma’am.”
Anna avoided Pearl’s gaze. “I heard it mentioned by some gentlemen. I don’t think they knew I’d overheard.”
“I don’t guess not,” Pearl agreed. “Why, Aphrodite’s Grotto is a real high-priced bawdy house. The girls who work there have it soft, that’s for sure. ’Course, I’ve heard that some high-class ladies go there with their faces hidden by a mask to pretend to be what I am.”
Anna’s eyes widened. “You mean . . . ?”
“They take whatever gent that catches their fancy in the room below and spends the night with them.” Pearl nodded matter-of-factly. “Or however long they want. Some even take a room and instruct the madam to send up a man of a certain description. Maybe a short, blond fellow or a tall, red-headed one.”
“It sounds a bit like picking a horse.” Anna wrinkled her nose.
Pearl gave the first smile Anna had seen. “That’s clever, ma’am. Like picking a stud.” She laughed. “I wouldn’t mind being the one that does the choosing for once, instead of the gents always getting to do the deciding.”
Anna smiled a little uncomfortably at this reminder of the realities of Pearl’s profession. “But why would a gentleman submit to such an arrangement?”
“The gents like it because they know they’re getting to spend the night with a real lady.” The other woman shrugged. “If you can call her a lady.”
Anna blinked and then shook herself. “I’m keeping you from your rest. I’d better go see about my own supper.”
The Raven Prince Page 8