Scowling, she whirled around to push the heavy door closed.
The rowdy customers, all men, except for the servants, stared at her as if she were Napoleon himself. Still dazed, she tried to focus her gaze inside the dimly lit taproom.
An unpleasant taste filled her throat as she caught sight of the questioning eyes still peering her way. Smoke, sweat, and spirits filed past her nose. Her knees began to weaken, but pride forced her to stiffen her spine and hold her chin high.
Her eyes darted about, searching for a seat before she fainted from pure exhaustion. Observing an empty table near the fire, she skirted past the ogling men and sat down, the covered birdcage resting beside her. She needed a room, but first she needed to catch her breath.
She could remember sitting in this same inn with her father and uncle years ago. The place had been overflowing with people.
Surely, someone would know the duke. Yet it was not as if she wanted anyone to know she had traveled without a chaperone. If Matthew found out about her little escapade, she would be married in no time. She would have to keep her name a secret, at least for now.
Heaving a tired sigh, she lifted her eyes from beneath her soggy hood. Her stomach rose to her throat. She had not seen the dark-haired man opposite her until it was too late. And the lady! Well, not exactly a lady.
Kate’s eyes widened. But then again, maybe some would call her a lady of the night with her painted cherry lips, fiery red hair, and that expanse of plump, creamy flesh spilling out of her scarlet gown. This female certainly wasn’t here ten years ago!
“Time’s up Maggie, my girl.”
The man across from her whispered so low that Kate almost didn’t hear him. He patted the lady’s bottom and sent her on her way, Maggie’s giggles assaulting Kate’s ears like the pounding storm. Then the well-dressed man turned his narrowed gaze upon Kate, his lips slowly curving into a wry smirk. She noted the twinkle in his emerald eyes, and her heart stumbled.
He looked about Matthew’s age, and if she guessed correctly, the man did not need any padding in his jacket to add to his athletic build. He had blue-black hair and a slash of brows to match. Some might call him handsome. Kate felt just plain ugly sitting in front of him.
“I’m s-s-sorry sir.” The words came out shaky like the rest of her. “I th-thought this table empty.” She hoped he would not send her away, at least not until her driver appeared.
Not having the strength to move, she decided not to try. An icy chill skidded down her back, seeping its way into her bones. Sinking lower in her seat, she pushed back her embarrassment, meeting the man’s intensive gaze.
Something tugged at her brain, but she wasn’t sure what. She felt so tired. He reminded her of someone. One of Matthew’s friends perhaps? Someone she had seen at the inn long ago? Oh, that would be just what she needed to finalize her day!
But whoever he was, she hoped the gentleman would have a bit of sympathy and not chase her away. She had no wish to bump into that scoundrel from outside. And where was he? She hadn’t noticed that black cloak anywhere or those silver buttons.
It took all her will power to lift her chin higher and heave an authoritative posture. She caught a whiff of something that drifted between pines and leather. His scent. She didn’t know why, but she liked it instantly. Perhaps because pines reminded her of home and her father.
The man’s gaze lingered on her disheveled form, and he opened his mouth to speak when suddenly the proprietor of the inn, a short pudgy man with white whiskers, scampered across the room, waving his hand within an inch of Kate’s face. “Move wench! Out! His lordship ain’t needing the likes of you. Off with you now.”
Before Kate could utter a single word, the fine looking gentleman cocked a black brow toward the owner. “The lady’s with me.” His announcement was loud enough to let the rest of the men in the tap comprehend the situation as well.
A small murmur rumbled throughout the room.
The proprietor turned red with embarrassment. “Didn’t know she was a friend of yours, your lordship. I would never…er…if I had known she was a friend of an earl–”
The plump man wiped a hand across his sweating forehead, searching for the words that would not make him look like a fool.
The earl crooked his finger toward the proprietor. “Get a bed and a warm bath ready for her. Clean sheets, her own chamber, and bill it to me.”
The proprietor stared back at him in astonishment, then threw a puzzled look at Kate. “Certainly, your lordship.”
Flabbergasted, Kate held tight to her seat. She would recognize that baritone voice anywhere, even without the silver buttons! It was just her luck to choose the one table where that hideous man from outside had found a seat as well.
Had the arrogant oaf just announced that she was with him? And an earl at that? It would be impossible to keep this from Matthew if anyone discovered who she was.
She would have to stay on her guard now. She was tired, but she wasn’t dead. That finely chiseled face belonging to that huge frame and fashionable blue brocade coat would not be taking her anywhere. She would be going alone, or she would be going nowhere.
The inn door flew open, and her driver fumbled forward, carrying her trunks. He searched her out. “Where do you want them, Miss?”
It seemed the earl had caught a glimpse of her lost expression and turned toward the driver. “Send them upstairs.” He gestured to the proprietor to direct the man to the appropriate room.
Kate stood and shoved her hands on the table to follow her belongings. Enough was enough. But the earl stopped her by placing his large hands over hers. A warm sensation flooded her senses. Their eyes met and a brief shiver swept through her.
He squeezed her hand in a sympathetic gesture. “No reason for you to be afraid,” he said softly. “I only want to help. Would you care for some food?”
Her stomach growled, and she realized that food would be wonderful. For the first time in a long time, she was starved. But could she eat with this man? Could she trust him? She could always ask for a tray to be sent up, but the man was already billing the room in his name. What a mess she had made leaving Mrs. Hollingsworth back in London!
He pulled back his hand, as if sensing her fear. “We seemed to get off on the wrong foot. Literally, I believe.” The corners of his eyes crinkled into a boyish smile.
Tears of both relief and grief filled Kate’s throat. Perhaps he did want to help her. At this point, she was too tired not to accept his aid. She would have to keep her wits about her though. “Perhaps a bit of broth,” she said hesitantly, pulling her reticule from beneath her cloak.
The man raised his hand, interrupting her. “No, I will pay, and we can serve you a bit more than broth. This inn has no private dining room.” His lips curved upward. “Of course, you might feel safer in the taproom than in a private room with me.”
He called to the red-haired woman who stood beside a table of rowdy men. “Maggie girl, bring us some beef, potatoes, bread, cheese, and your finest wine.”
Kate’s eyes widened. This man might be, without a doubt, positively gorgeous with his jet-black hair and jewel-like eyes, but she was no fool. And she was no Maggie either.
Her jaw jutted forward. “Now, see here, your lordship.” Realizing where she was, she dropped her voice to a raw whisper. “I’m not about to take your charity, and if it’s not charity, then you very well know what you can do with your wine.”
To her surprise, his eyes widened in surprise, then he flashed a set of beautiful white teeth her way and pointed for her to sit down. Pointed at her!
“Now, see here, you little spitfire. You will sit there, you will eat, and I will watch you.” He spoke with an authority that made her knees lock, his eyes almost daring her to move.
Kate’s discomfort quickly turned to irritation as he continued on just like Matthew, but worse!
“You will drink your wine,” he commanded, “and when you are finished, I shall carry you to your own bedc
hambers, since I can see that your two legs will not be able to make even that small journey. You are ill and obviously exhausted.” He glared at her. “And alone.”
He emphasized the last two words with such displeasure, one would think he was her guardian. But the disgust at her situation had been gnawing at Kate’s conscience, too.
It was obvious this earl’s expression was one of pure censure at her being without some kind of chaperone. She watched in agitation as he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his massive chest, and dismissed her defiant attitude with no trouble at all.
“Think of me as a Good Samaritan. Do I make myself perfectly clear, my girl?”
The gall of the man. “Perfectly.” Perfectly pompous. Her voice quivered as she retreated to her seat. The man was insufferable, not the type of man she’d want to marry, but oh, dear Matthew would adore him. They would probably be the best of friends.
Everything was going wrong. Everything, including Mr. Lord Bossy who seemed to be examining her across the table with cat-like eyes. Blood pounded in her temples and she looked away. All she wanted to do was to go home.
In the opposite corner of the taproom, the brawny man shifted his gaze toward the earl’s table and scowled. Blimey, there he was, Lord Lancewood, sitting at the table, just as fine as you please, in his spitting white cravat and dandy new waistcoat.
The burly man lifted his cup and gulped down his ale. Ha! Looks like his lordship’s taken on job as protector to that mousy chit who came through the door. Well, ain’t she going to be surprised when her mighty lord turns up dead in the wee hours of the morning? And the poor dead earl won’t be havin’ to travel far to be buried in the family plot.
Grinning, the man stuffed the key he’d received from the serving wench into his pocket. After finishing his drink, he clanked the empty cup onto the table. If he weren’t in such a rush, he would gladly dump the earl’s body on the man’s estate. But a ride with a dead man was a bit risky, even for his liking.
His gaze narrowed on the serving wench as she started up the stairs. He watched the back of her skirts and smiled, his fingers sliding to the handle of his knife. Everything was moving along just as he planned.
First, he would thank the wench properly, then take care of his lordship after the man retired to his bedchamber. And if time were on his side, he’d take a visit to see Lancewood’s chit. Who knew what lay beyond the gel’s wet cloak and that stubborn lift of her chin?
A surge of lust instantly took hold of his body. But he would wait. He could control himself for two hours, could he not?
He stared into his empty mug and eased out a wicked smile. Yes, this night would pay out very nicely indeed.
When the earl rose to speak to the proprietor, Kate gave in to her urge to study the man. He was about as tall as Matthew, about six-foot-two of him, towering over the proprietor as if he were king.
She swallowed tightly, recalling the way the lord shouted orders. She would never want to cross this earl, not a man whose shoulders seemed to span the width of the table and whose authority seemed to match his size, making her wary of speaking her piece.
Yet in the light of the fire, his emerald eyes glinted with a gentleness that surprised her. His ebony hair glistened like tiny crystals in the nighttime sky, making him too handsome for his own good. But when he turned, those gentle eyes changed, staring at her with an intensity that made her flinch. His gaze was wild and turbulent, much like her voyage across the ocean, and goodness, that had almost killed her.
Get a hold of yourself, Kate. He’s just another man.
But her body didn’t seem to be listening. Her heart quickened like the rain spattering against the windowpanes. Biting her lip, she quickly looked away. Something about him looked oddly familiar.
Well, that was impossible, she mused, shoving the notion to the back of her brain as the earl took his seat. She was a girl when she’d visited here last. Good heavens. England was making her daft.
Except she was all too aware that the gentleman sitting across from her was accustomed to giving orders. In fact, he sounded more like her father, or brother, for that matter, than a stranger.
She was ready to tell him something to that effect when a clap of thunder ripped through the sky. Startled, she jumped an inch off her seat.
“Quite a storm outside,” the earl said, smiling, seemingly amused at her reaction.
“It’s divine. Just divine.”
Kate’s attention jerked to her covered birdcage, and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. The unlikely sound of Mrs. Hollingsworth’s words, bursting forth from the flapping beast beside mortified her. Drat her brother for buying her that ghastly featherbrain. Drat Matthew and all his stupid plans.
She lifted her gaze and met with a pair of questioning black brows. The man probably thought she was as insane as she looked. A simmering heat shot through her, and she slouched deeper into her cloak, pulling the cover off her birdcage, trying to explain.
“He’s a, well, you see, it’s my parrot.” Her words were barely heard above the bird’s flapping wings.
The earl narrowed his eyes, tucking away his grin. “Your parrot?”
She nodded. “He was a gift.”
“It’s divine,” the parrot piped again. “Simply divine.” Red feathers whipped up and down and Kate groaned.
“Divine?” the earl asked, almost choking out the words.
Kate shrugged helplessly, pulling her hood forward so the gentleman could not see the utter humiliation she felt. Tears clogged her throat as memories of the past few months began to overwhelm her. Her father’s death. Her brother’s decision to send her to England. The wretched voyage and now this. What had happened to the girl she had left in Boston?
Having no strength, she realized she would have to accept the man’s kindness and keep her wits about her at all times. She was less than a half-day’s ride from her relatives. What else could she to do? She was in a pickle of a mess, and she wondered for the tenth time if she could trust this man. As if on cue, there was a soft brushing against her skirt. Her eyes lit up in shock. A hand?
At least one of her questions was answered. The cad! If he thought for one minute she would not speak up, he would wish for the pox instead. And to think he had the audacity to look back at her with a surprised expression as if she had touched him!
She slammed her hand onto the table ready to scream if necessary, but her heart jumped to her throat when she felt something furry. Something wet and furry pushing against her skin.
The truth finally hit her. She glanced down and laughed. “Handsome!”
“Handsome?” the earl replied, confused.
“Not you,” she giggled in relief. “Him.”
It was the dog from the docks. She pulled the mangy beast to her cheek and hot tears sprang to her eyes. “The poor thing must have followed me all the way through the storm.”
“It’s divine. Just divine,” the parrot chimed again.
To Kate’s relief, the earl ignored the bird. “Handsome?” He pointed to the animal and scoffed. “You call that handsome?”
With thoughts only for the dog, Kate pulled some bread off the earl’s plate and looked up at him. “Do you mind?” Her food was coming, but she hated for Handsome to wait.
“Mind?” The earl cleared his throat. “Surely a creature as handsome as that should have the entire plate.” He pushed his beef and bread towards her. “Come to think of it, why not offer some to Mr. Divine as well.”
If there was a hint of amusement in his voice, Kate didn’t hear it. “Thank you,” she said, smiling. After offering a few bites to both animals, her food arrived, but she continued to pet Handsome until he fell fast asleep at her feet, then she began eating.
Dumbfounded, Tristan continued his watch as the slip of the girl caressed a mutt that looked more like a gigantic wet rat than man’s best friend. And that horrid parrot! Yet she had fed the blasted animals before herself! What kind of female was this? What a
menagerie of misfits.
Who was this girl out alone on such a miserable night? She reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite place her. Someone from his past. A friend? A relative? A daughter of an acquaintance? No, no, it was his imagination. Besides, he had the diamond to think about. He hid his scowl and looked about the tap. Where the devil was Fletcher?
After a minute, he brought his gaze back to the girl. Her wet hood had slipped from her head, revealing a heart-shaped face that looked so vulnerable he felt his heart turn.
Where the hell was her chaperone? Needless to say, if he hadn’t stepped in to help her, some of the greedy eyes peering her way might have ventured to help her in ways she probably could never even imagine. Although she appeared weak, she showed extreme independence, especially packed with all that mud.
He thought her about sixteen, perhaps stretching things, a year older. Yet her manners were genteel, cultured, as if she were the daughter of a king. Who the devil was she?
Like a mother hen, she continued to pet the sleeping dog. Something in his blood stirred at the sight. For some uncanny reason, he wanted to exchange places with that mangy beast.
Devil take it, for the first time in a long while he felt comfortable with a female. Yet she was everything he was not. Compassionate. Giving. Innocent and pure. He leaned back in his seat and studied the angles of her face. Soft and feminine. Someone who needed a man to protect her in this world.
She could be quite passable when she cleaned up. If she were a bit older and a bit less stubborn, he would have been interested. But she was only a child. Younger than his brother.
He quickly looked away, taking a sip of his wine. Dash it all. What was happening to him?
“Since we are dining together,” he said when he finally gathered his emotions and turned his gaze upon her. “I thought it might be the proper thing to know your name. I realize there is no one to introduce us but your driver. However, under the circumstances...”
She looked up as she forked a large piece of beef into her mouth, then swallowed slowly, her brown eyes flashing with uncertainty. “My friends call me Kate.”
Once Upon A Diamond (A sweet Regency Historical Romance) Page 4