Mary stared at him and then her lips quivered and her eyes lightened. No longer the grey of the lake in winter, but the cool deep shades of mystery and the hint of warmth. ‘Well recovered, Your… Brody.’ She grinned. ‘Very well recovered.’
He bowed and winked at her. ‘Am I absolved?’ he asked gravely. ‘Will you let me redeem myself further? I have my chestnuts. If you’re good I might let you take the reins.’
‘I’m always good… Very good,’ she tilted her head to one side. And purred the words. ‘In many ways. Including taking…’ she licked her mouth in a smooth circular motion, and let her tongue hover with its tip touching the middle of her top lip for several second, ‘…the reins. However only “might” on your part? I thought you much more decisive than that.’
Brody chuckled, his cock, as ever, ready willing and able to discover just how many ways she meant. ‘That, my dear sounds promising. We will see.’
She began to laugh, and changed it into a snort of amusement. ‘We will.’ They rounded the corner and she stopped dead.
‘Oh my. O…h… my. What beauties.’
As if they heard her praise and agreed, two perfectly matched chestnuts tossed their heads and whinnied. Brody beamed and whistled, a long, two note, melodic sound.
Both equine heads turned in his direction.
‘They sense you,’ Mary said. ‘How lovely.’
Brody nodded. ‘I bred them. Sadly I left just after they were broken in, and hardly had time to show them my love and need for them. To my everlasting relief, on my return, they remembered me. Also to my everlasting relief and joy, Mama held on to them, even though they were stabled elsewhere. They reached the horses, and Brody stroked each velvety nose in turn. ‘Meet Hester and Hero. Sadly Hero was unmanned so I could take him out in polite company.’
Mary sniggered. ‘Poor boy,’ she crooned, as she took Brody’s place next to the gelding. ‘I still think you’re very much a man.’
‘Albeit one without balls,’ Brody said.
‘Hush, now.’ Mary covered Hero’s ears. ‘Don’t listen to the nasty man. They’re not everything.’ Hero let his breath out in a long horsy snort. ‘See? He agrees with me.’
Brody covered his testicles with his hands. ‘Ouch. They are to a human male.’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘If you truly mean that, then I assume you know the means in which to assure nothing untoward will happen.’ Mary said with quiet confidence.
Brody’s mouth dropped open. Would she ever cease to amaze him?
‘I assure you I can make sure you’re totally satisfied and no by-blow will be the result,’ he said stiffly. Lord what did he sound like? ‘I know what to do.’
She dropped a very mocking curtsey. ‘Good. So do I. Therefore I foresee no problems. Shall we go? It wouldn’t do to keep Mr Trotter waiting.’ The smile she gave him was brilliant.
Why did he think, yet again, that she was keeping something from him? Nevertheless, Brody held his peace. There was no point in prodding or demanding an explanation, which really was not his concern.
He bowed. ‘Of course. Let me assist you.’ He lifted her up into the curricle, and waited until she shifted across the seat before he untied his horses and joined her. ‘Next stop. Old Jolyon. He was my papa’s groom, then a gardener. Now he is retired and ready to cause riot, according to my factor. Whom I am now on good terms with. I have, not to put too fine a point on it, told him that from now, it is me he answers to. The factor I mean, not Jolyon. Joylon would without question.’
‘And he said?” Mary asked with interest uppermost in her voice as she settled into her seat. ‘The factor, not Jolyon.’
Brody chuckled. ‘The equivalent to “thank the lord for that”.’ He collected the reins and urged his horses on. ‘I assume my mama is not an easy task master.’
‘I had heard she is someone with very definite ideas,’ Mary said, cautiously. ‘But as you intimated, you came home to a successful and prosperous inheritance.’
‘An understatement on both accounts.’ The horses moved smoothly into a trot and, once out on the lane that led away from the village, into a controlled canter. ‘Something I intend to forget about for now. Once I’ve visited Jolyon I intend to focus on us. Just us.’ He sneaked a quick glance at his companion, who sat at ease next to him. ‘I think I had best warn you, Jolyon is a rascal. He gets away with it because he’s another one who has known me since I was a stripling. Thrashed me for being hard on my horse’s mouth when I was in a temper, and fed me when my papa sent me to bed without any supper for some misdemeanour or other. He’s tended more scrapes on my knees than even Lovey has.’
‘He must have missed you when you went away.’
Brody shot her a swift look. ‘If that comment was an intimation that I should have seen him once I returned, let me put your mind at rest. I have. Several times. But he caught a chill a week or so ago and is now confined to the house and not best pleased about it. Hence a visit which works well for us.’ He turned his attention to the horses as he navigated through a tight gateway and halted outside a small, snug row of cottages. ‘I would have come anyway, but now he’ll not feel Fred Copley has stolen a march on him and met you.’
Mary stirred on her seat. ‘I’m not sure that comes under the heading of keeping a low profile and not attracting attention to ourselves.’
‘I can understand your concern, but believe me it’s the best way. As I said, give everyone a little to chew over and we’ll get away with so much more.’
‘Hmm.’
Why didn’t she sound more certain?
Chapter Nine
As it happened, Mary had to agree that Brody was correct. A few words along the lines of he was showing her around the area, and reacquainting himself with his lands, was all that was needed. If Jolyon, or his daughter Florrie, thought there was more to it than that, neither mentioned it, or acted as if anything was out of the ordinary at the duke arriving with a young lady in tow.
Half an hour later, after a glass of lemon water, as she sat with Florrie, whilst Jolyon quizzed Brody about the horses and the estate in general, they were on their way again.
Brody whistled tunefully as they tooled their way along a decent road towards the east. Mary was contented to sit next to him, try to identify the tunes he whistled and watch the vista unfold. They splashed through a ford and Brody grinned as the water bounced off the wheels of the curricle and dropped back down to create whirls and circles on the surface of the fast flowing stream. ‘Hainfoot Ford. I learned to swim a few hundred yards downstream where it slows and widens. In winter this is impassable and you need to detour along the main road. Don’t worry, it won’t impinge on or upset our arrangement. We can take a shortcut. I thought we’d go home that way. It is safe, secure and will be a good route for you if at any time I cannot escort you. Those times will, I hope, be few and far between.’
She shifted to sit sideways and looked at his profile. Even with only half his face showing clearly Mary understood why so many people had said, “Oh once he’s back to normal, his grace will sort it”. He exuded confidence, along with the ability to solve all problems and keep the duchy on an even keel.
‘I trust you,’ she said simply. ‘Trust you to do what is right for us. I’ve paid my dues to my late husband’s memory, and I’m ready to live again. I love my home, my life here, the ways I’ve structured my life in general, but there was something lacking.’
‘Me.’ Brody said with emphasis. ‘Thank the lord we’ve rectified that.’
‘You think so?’ Mary raised her eyebrows and he laughed. Trust him. She realised with a jolt that she did. In every way possible.
‘Oh I think so, don’t you?’ Brody said confidently. ‘And believe me when I say you were most definitely lacking from mine. I wondered what I was going to do with my life and now I know. Retake over the ducal role and…’ he grinned at her, coughed theatrically, ‘…get to know you.’
Somehow she was sure his original thought
was not so bland.
Mary dipped her head in acknowledgement. ‘I look forward to it. Oh, what is that? Is it a devil’s finger?’ She pointed to the middle of a nearby field, which had been recently harvested, where a tall stone stood on end. It looked as if it was covered in hieroglyphics and carvings. ‘Or do you call them something different here?’
‘The locals used to call it Joe’s Stone, so I assume they still do. According to legend it was thrown down in a storm, by a giant named Joseph, who had been scorned by one of the local girls. But as he loved her he didn’t curse it, and just said that crops in a radius of, oh I think thirty yards, would grow and flourish. He wanted to make sure she could live and live well. It’s a fact that this field is always first to be harvested.’
Mary chuckled. ‘A gentle giant then. I wish I’d known of it before. However now I do I’ll be sure to visit. Strange though it may seem, I have an interest in such things.’ She bit back her next sentence, which was to admit Horry was considered an expert in that field. It would be too much information.
‘Then remind me to make a point of showing you all the antiquities in the area. Not now though. That’s the inn up ahead.’ Brody told her as the honey-coloured stone cottages of a village appeared on the horizon, one of which had a sign swinging from a metal bracket. ‘So, why did you never head out this way, and check it out?’
‘I hate to admit it, but I didn’t know it was here. I did go to see the grave of Master Lobley’s ghost though’ She mentioned a large flat stone a few miles away, where it was said the ghost appeared, although there were no bones or skeleton in the area. ‘My first few weeks were full as I decided what needed to be done to the house and discovered if it was acceptable.’
She didn’t say to whom, and prayed Brody was too stubborn headed to ask. That was what she wanted. Now she’d dug herself into a hole stating she worked for someone to look after the house, Mary had no idea how she could change that state of affairs.
‘And of course I do have other calls on my time,’ she added.
He grunted. ‘Me from now on. Will it cause problems for you?’
Mary blinked. ‘Problems as in how?’
Brody slowed, turned into the inn yard and threw the reins to an ostler who came running to greet them. He waited until he helped her to the ground and she had fussed with her skirts, and then put his hand to the small of her back to urge her towards the inn’s door. That small touch loomed large in her mind. Did his fingers stroke her rear? Would she mind if they had? No, she acknowledged, she wouldn’t mind at all.
‘With your employer?’
Did he look at her in an inquisitive manner? Did he suspect something wasn’t quite as she described it? ‘Not at all. My time is to be employed as I think fit. I will arrange things to suit everything.’
He gave her a long, hard stare but didn’t comment.
Luncheon was a nightmare. Outwardly he was all that was proper. A considerate and upright pillar of the society. A man who appreciated his companion but purely as a luncheon companion. The local nobility who cared for all who lived on his lands. Often the look in his eyes was wicked, at other times – usually after he flustered her with innuendo – bland and one that would be bestowed on a casual companion. Those times usually left Mary in a tizzy and as the maid entered with food after one audacious comment about long legs, and the need to see them naked around his neck, Mary was reduced to a stutter and then silence. By the time they had finished their repast, and were once more tooling the horses down the lane, Mary was ready to commit grievous bodily harm on him.
‘You, Your Grace, are an unmitigated cad,’ she said softly but with great force, as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone in the inn or its vicinity.
His hands dropped as he jumped and it was several seconds before he was able to once more contain the horses and keep them in check. That small act gave Mary some consolation. She’d made him consider his behaviour.
‘How on earth do you think I felt, trying to act as if you hadn’t been spouting such rubbish and then acting as if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth?’ she demanded. ‘If I had you naked on top of me you would make me sigh, shiver and beg for more,’ she quoted. ‘If we were able to make love al fresco, the sun would shine on your breasts and show me the way to heaven. Oh and my cock is primed and ready to fill you until not even one breath of air could enter. Ha. What rubbish.’
‘It’s not, you know,’ Brody said mildly. ‘I’ll show you soon.’
‘You are a horror,’ she continued stormily and stamped her foot on the wooden floor. The noise sounded loud over the wheels of the curricle and she had one moment of worry that it would affect the horses. Luckily it didn’t. ‘How on earth could you act like that?’ Mary demanded. Little white lines appeared around his mouth but she resolutely ignored them. She would make him aware of his crimes if it was the last thing she did. ‘Do you know how difficult you made it for me? One mouthful of wine and you ask me something like will I drink you dry, something I cannot answer without sounding forward. And then the dratted maid entered before I could formulate a reply. And you, Your Grace, just sat there, oh so sweet and innocent, handed me a glass of wine, told me to dip it until it was all gone, winked and watched me flounder. That is not the action of a gentleman.’
He opened his mouth and she held her hand up. ‘I have not finished. Yes, I know you are a duke and thus a nobleman, but surely that doesn’t mean you cannot act the gentleman? If so I worry about the future of our country.’
She unfurled her parasol, something she had ignored up to that point and held it over her head, and at such an angle it blocked his face.
Brody sighed. ‘How much do I need to beg forgiveness?’
‘If you have to ask? Why nothing.’ Mary was not prepared to give him an inch. He’d hurt her, even if inadvertently. She had thought they had got beyond such things.
‘Yes, all right, I was less than a gentleman, I admit it. I have nothing to say in my defence except I wanted to be here then. Where we are now. Welcome to Bliss…’ he paused, and stared at her, ‘…land Hall.’
Mary looked around. She’d been so caught up in her anger she hadn’t noticed that they had arrived outside a long low hunting lodge. Built in the local stone it exuded warmth and welcome. Mullioned windows sparkled in the sunlight and the sound of birds seemed to be welcoming them. It was beautiful. Mary dropped her parasol to the floor of the curricle, and sighed with happiness. ‘Oh my…’
‘Dare I hope that signals approval? That you want to go in and see if it does indeed suit you and your “often wrong but always trying” lover-to-be?’
Brody took her hand, squeezed it and then kissed her wrist. ‘I could say living abroad had made me uncouth, but I will be honest. When I see you, my body goes on high alert, and I forget all the niceties I have learned. I want you so much…’ he shrugged in a very self-conscious manner, ‘…I forget how to woo someone so special, and resort to being uncouth. I am sorry, Mary. Will you forgive me? Please? I’ll beg on one knee if I have to.’
How could she say no? She was never one to deny herself what she wanted so much.
‘No kneeling necessary. One more chance?’ she said dryly and he snorted.
‘I suspect I’ll need more than one.’
So did she. ‘Then let’s move on quickly. This is Blissland?’
‘By name and by nature I hope. Let me secure the cattle and help you down.’ Brody moved quickly and efficiently, and within minutes Mary found herself standing next to him, her parasol and reticule in her hand.
‘I’m going to unharness the horses and see them settled. We might not be here that long, but it’s too warm to leave them in the traces if I don’t have to. Do you want to go inside or wait here?’ He produced a key from his pocket. ‘This unlocks the door over there. We have one each.’ There was no pretence that she might not need one.
‘I’ll help you,’ Mary said promptly. She wanted their first entrance to be together. Romantic or id
iotic? She wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to decide. ‘I’ll get water and hay.’ The words, “then we can go in together, quicker” hovered in the air between them. She waited for his brisk nod and untied her bonnet before she placed it, her parasol, reticule and soft kid gloves down on a nearby mounting block. There was no need to dirty her clothes and accessories any more than necessary and even the tidiest stables gathered dust and dirt. She noticed Brody had removed his immaculate hacking jacket and cravat and hung them over the half door of an empty stall.
As she found a bucket and brought water from the pump to the stables, Mary couldn’t help but let her gaze linger on Brody’s body as he moved with unconscious grace and made the horses comfortable. His shirt swung loose from his body and teased her senses; his buckskins fitted like a second skin and left little to the imagination. She emptied her pail into the first water trough with a splash, and wished she could cool herself and her thoughts in it. Dare she leave an inch in the pail and surreptitiously dab it on her pulse points?
As the crystal clear liquid swirled and sloshed around its confines, one of the horses whinnied. Brody looked up and smiled. A true full-on smile of pleasure. It took her breath away as she got a glimpse of the man he really was. If she had been of a fanciful nature, Mary thought she would have said the air crackled. No ton-ish veneer, no ducal authority. Just a man for once at ease with himself. Eyes alight with the joy of living, he winked.
‘We make a good team and mesh together. It bodes well for the future, don’t you think?’ He took the bucket from her, and emptied out the last drops.
There went her immediate chance to cool off.
‘I’ll get the rest of the water,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘I might just need cooling down a little.’
A wave of heat flooded through Mary at his words. The thoughts of how they might mesh were enticing, and enough to make her shiver in anticipation. She risked a quick look at his body… his aroused body… and swallowed ‘Let’s hope so,’ she said simply. ‘I’ll fill the hay nets.’
The Duke's Seduction of Lady M Page 16