by Alyssa Drake
“I forgive you.”
Slowly, he leaned down, brushing his mouth lightly against hers. She waited for the jolt of passion to zip through her body… Nothing. Perhaps if she wasn’t comparing him to the other Mr. Reid… Sliding her fingers through his hair, Daphne squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the soft lips caressing hers. Still nothing… Did she believe her own words? Was it possible for love to grow from a mutual accord?
Breaking the kiss, Mr. Reid lifted his head, an unreadable expression passing through his eyes. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Famished.”
“Then let’s solve that problem.” He shifted her in his arms, and turned, trudging down the garden path toward the front of the house.
“Can you ride a horse?” asked Daphne, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“Better than Thomas,” he laughed.
“That is your opinion,” a voice announced from the veranda.
Daphne’s head whipped left. Mr. Reid appeared on the steps. “Miss Clemens, I heard you retired upstairs, yet here you are, in front of me. How have you managed to reappear outside?”
She bit her lip, her head flying between the two men. “I may have fallen out of my window.”
“May have?” He arched an eyebrow.
“It has been alleged, I am quite clumsy.”
“And how did Asher,”—his eyes flicked up to his cousin—“come to find you in his arms.”
“He caught me.”
“And he is graciously returning you to the house, where you will remain under the watchful eye of your aunt.” Mr. Reid folded his arms.
Daphne’s eyes narrowed. Why was he acting so strangely? Had he not just proposed to another woman? Her affairs were none of his concern. “I had other plans today.”
“We have a lesson.”
“Do we? I thought that was postponed.” She tilted her head and smiled.
A red tinge crawl through Mr. Reid’s face. She had angered him.
“Thomas, I have no intention of interfering with the education of Miss Clemens… however, as I am the better rider—”
“Asher,” snarled Mr. Reid, stepping to his cousin, “walk away.”
Setting Miss Clemens on her feet, he bowed. “Miss Clemens, I shall see you later this evening. We can show my boys the stables and, afterward, I hope you will have an answer for me.” His eyes flicked up, locking on Mr. Reid. The air between them crackled. “Make your decision carefully, cousin, or you may regret your choice.” Spinning, he strolled down the drive toward the main road.
“Why was Asher here?” Mr. Reid glared at Daphne.
“He had business to discuss with Lord Westwood.”
“Benjamin was with me. How could Asher have met with him?”
“Mr. Reid decided to pose his query to me,” replied Daphne, watching the aforementioned man shrink in the distance. Pausing at the gate, he turned, waving, then vanished.
“What did Asher ask you?”
“To be his wife.”
Chapter Thirteen
No! Thomas’ heart constricted. “What did you say?”
“I told him I would consider his proposal,” she replied, her eyes locked on the main road.
“Why?” He moved in front of her, blocking her view.
Miss Clemens glanced at him, tilting her head. “Can you think of a reason not to?”
“You have other options, Miss Clemens.”
“Do you see a line of suitors waiting for my hand?” She raised her arms, spreading them wide.
“I don’t want you to marry, Asher!” The words exploded from his mouth.
“Why?” She planted her hands on her hips. “Is he a terrible person—a man who beats his children, who cheats on his wife, who drinks and gambles?”
Thomas flinched. “He is none of those things.”
Miss Clemens stared at him silently. “Would you prefer I married a man such as Mr. Lockhearst?”
“No. Asher is the better man.” Thomas dragged a hand through his hair, pacing down the veranda. Was she honestly considering Asher?
“Then, why do you reject the idea of your cousin?” Her voice softened.
Because he is not me. “I have no reason to give.”
“Yet, you are against the union?”
He spun around. “I am.”
“Mr. Reid, you are not making any sense. Perhaps you need some breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.” Surprise registered on Miss Clemens’ face at his statement. Thomas’ eyes flicked to the stables. “Take a ride with me.”
“Is that a command?” she asked quietly.
“It’s whatever it needs to be to give us privacy to speak freely.”
Sighing, Miss Clemens wove her fingers together and nodded, her gaze dropping to the ground. Misery flowed from her body. He offered his arm, which she accepted, leaning heavily on him as they strolled toward the stables. She didn’t speak the duration of the five-minute walk, waiting until they reached the barn door before turning toward him.
“Tell me why I cannot marry Mr. Reid.”
“Because I…” The words stuck on his tongue. “I trust you.” Would she accept that excuse? If he was truthful, it was more than trust, it was a developing attachment which would lead to heartache for one or both of them. Miss Clemens had crawled into his soul and awakened his senses, and that was dangerous…
“How would your cousin interfere with that trust?”
“He will take your time.”
“Your request is purely selfish?” She arched an eyebrow.
“I suppose it is.”
“And what of Miss Randall? How would she feel about her fiancé spending time with another woman?”
“I am not engaged.”
Shock washing over Miss Clemens face, a tiny smile broke through her melancholy. “But Miss Randall…”
“I told her I could not marry her.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Reid.”
“You should be, it’s your fault.” He jabbed his finger at her.
“Mine? Why do you lay the blame at my feet?”
“I couldn’t get your voice out of my mind, ‘A man should marry for love.’” His eyes locked on her. “I have not loved a woman since Alana…” He held up his hand, stopping her comment. “What happened between her and me is long over. However, I never thought I would feel anything again. Just now, with Asher, I was jealous. Jealous because it was he who kissed you and not me.” Thomas moved closer. “I would like to explore that feeling.”
“You saw us?” She blushed, ducking her head before fleeing into the barn. Thomas followed, grabbing her wrist, spinning her around.
“There are no secrets in this house,” he whispered, lifting her chin. His thumb traced the seam of her lips. Just one taste… Leaning forward, his mouth touched hers, her lips parting as she melted into his embrace. His tongue plunged into her mouth, drawing a gasp from her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Lifting her, he pushed her up against a stable door, his mouth never leaving hers. His hands skated over her curves, his body grinding into hers. They broke apart, each dragging in a deep breath. He lowered her to the floor, sliding her body along his, need coursing through his veins.
“I think we need to take a ride,” he managed through gritted teeth.
“Why?”
His thumb brushed over her lips once more. “Because I am about to do something I cannot undo.”
She blushed, realizing his intent. “Perhaps that is a wise decision.”
Spinning, he walked stiffly to Shadow’s stall, opening the gate. The horse whinnied its greeting, playfully butting Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas cooed to the horse, leading it from the stall. “Do you remember Miss Clemens?” he said, stroking his hand over the horse’s muzzle.
Shadow plodded over to Miss Clemens, pushing his head into her shoulder. Miss Clemens laughed, stroking her hands over his coat. “I have no treat for you.”
Leading Shadow over to the barn door, Thomas positioned the hors
e next to the stack of hay bales. Miss Clemens stepped onto the bale and gathered her skirt into her hand. Hoisting herself onto Shadow’s back, she swung her leg over, straddling the horse. Vaulting up behind Miss Clemens, Thomas scooted forward, erasing the chaste distance between them—his arms closed around her waist, melding her body into his.
“Are you certain this is a good idea?” asked Miss Clemens, twisting in his grip.
“No.” It definitely was not a good idea—not with her injured ankle, not with Morris and his accomplice hiding out somewhere in the countryside, and not with his mind focused on her soft lips—but he couldn’t trust himself alone in her company. For that reason alone, they were heading out for a long ride. “However, I have more questions for you, Miss Clemens, and I’ve used up all my credit.”
“More questions? What can you possibly learn about me you don’t already know?”
Thomas grinned, clucking his tongue. Shadow plodded toward the courtyard. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over her ear. “I have a few in mind. Hold on tight.”
She trembled, a shiver racing down her spine. Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, he held her flush against him, nudging Shadow into a gallop. The horse sprung forward, racing toward the main gate. Miss Clemens remembered his instruction, rolling her hips with the horse’s movement, her body falling into rhythm with his.
“I’d like to make a request.” Miss Clemens craned her head up, speaking to his chin.
“Which is?” He glanced down, staring into her brown eyes.
“Can we head the opposite direction of the Shirely’s estate?”
“Certainly,” Thomas laughed. “We’ll pass beside the Flannery’s land.”
She twisted around in his embrace, her face paling. “Is that dangerous?”
“How so?”
“Mr. Flannery has a rifle.”
“As does Mrs. Dubois…” Thomas slowed the horse, stopping in front of the aforementioned lady who reclined on the steps leading to a bridge over the stream, clothed again in her older brother’s garments. He inclined his head. “Good morning, Alana.”
“Thomas, Miss Clemens.” She shifted the rifle on her lap, touching her hand to her forehead and rising. Pursing her lips, her eyes flicked to Miss Clemens ankle. “I see you have recovered from your accident yesterday.”
“It is the other ankle.” Thomas adjusted his grip on Miss Clemens. “Why are you still awake? I expected Aidan would have sent you to bed by now.”
“Aidan is drunk.”
Thomas swung his leg over the back of the horse, sliding from Shadow’s back. Releasing the reins, he marched over to Alana while Shadow dipped his head, munched on a tuff of grass. “Since when does Aidan drink?”
“Since his closest friend has a grievance to settle with him.” Alana’s eyes flashed. “Why would you tell him that? He is heartbroken over it.”
Thomas slashed his arm toward the horse. “He is directly responsible for Miss Clemens’ injury.”
“Mr. Reid,” said Miss Clemens, her soft voice filled with shock. “I already explained, Mr. Flannery—”
“You were in Aidan’s care.” Thomas’ head whipped toward Miss Clemens. “I do not care what excuse you gave, he should have—”
“He should have ignored my request?” Miss Clemens countered, shifting on Shadow’s back as the horse stepped closer to a new patch of grass.
Thomas’ jaw dropped. Alana chuckled behind him. “Miss Clemens, I would be delighted if you would join me for tea this afternoon. Perhaps your presence would ease my brother’s guilt.”
“Thank you, Mrs. D”—Alana held up one finger—“Alana,” corrected Miss Clemens. She smiled, her face lighting with joy.
“I will ensure my brother is properly attired.”
“Is he currently unattired?” Thomas arched an eyebrow. Alana’s gaze dropped to his face, her eyes narrowing. Raising the rifle, she aimed the gun at Thomas’ heart.
He swallowed, his eyes locked on the barrel. “What are you doing?”
“Do not move,” she whispered, her blue eyes focused something over his left shoulder.
“What is it?” Thomas’ gaze flicked left, straining to see at what Alana was staring. A faint hiss reached his ears, a slight sound which twisted his stomach into a knot. Shadow was terrified of snakes…
Shadow whinnied, stepping backward nervously. The hissing sound grew louder. Alana shoved Thomas aside, pulling the trigger. The bullet exploded from the muzzle, ripping through the air, splitting the snake in half. Shadow reared, startled.
Shrieking, Miss Clemens leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Shadow’s neck. The horse reared again, and took off, racing down the lane toward the fork in the road.
Please turn right, please turn right, please—“Damn!” Thomas glared at Alana. “She doesn’t know how to ride a horse.” Throwing his hands in the air, he marched down the road.
“Neither do I.” Alana placed the rifle against her shoulder and ran to catch up to him. “I just saved your horse’s life. Be grateful for that.”
“If you kill Miss Clemens, that is not an acceptable trade,” he snarled, his eyes glancing up the signpost. He shook his head, flinging his arm in the direction which Miss Clemens had traveled. “You do realize she’s heading straight for Morris’ country estate?”
“I’m certain she’ll fall off before she reaches his land.”
Thomas snapped his jaw. “If you’re not going to help me, go back to your father’s house.”
Alana arched an eyebrow. “The snake would have caused Shadow to rear with or without my help.”
“I have to answer to Aunt Abigail.”
“I see why you were so callous with my brother.” Alana snorted. “I would be terrified of Aunt Abigail as well.”
A scream echoed through the morning. Running toward the sound, Thomas and Alana rounded a bend. Shadow raced toward them… riderless. Panic rolled through Thomas, his heart hammering, beating a frantic rhythm in his chest. Where was she? Had she fallen? Had Morris found her? He pushed his body forward, tripping as he raced toward Shadow. Grabbing the reins, he yanked the horse’s head down, his eyes flying over the saddle, searching for blood or any kind of struggle.
“If she fell off, she should be close by.” Alana reached his side, panting slightly. She jerked her head. Nodding, Thomas mounted the horse, then glanced down.
“I would offer…”
She shook her head, shifting the gun. “I am perfectly fine on two legs.” She waved him off.
Digging his heels into the horse, Thomas rode toward Morris’ estate, his eyes sweeping the sides of the road, searching for Miss Clemens. No sound reached his ears, save his own harsh breathing and the fear which pounded through his veins.
“Miss Clemens!” His voice echoed through the morning. Nothing answered his call. He yelled a second time, the strained words reverberating down the lane. He was less than a half a kilometer from Morris’ country estate, and there was no indication of Miss Clemens.
“Where did you leave her?” he asked the horse, leaning forward and whispering in its ear. Pulling its head down, Shadow jerked against the reins. Thomas released his grip, and the horse galloped down the road, directly toward Morris’ estate.
They turned down the drive, racing toward the house. As they reached the courtyard, Miss Clemens appeared to their left like an apparition. Waving her hands frantically, she limped toward them. Thomas jerked the reins, skidding to a halt and sliding from Shadow, relief flooding his body. He stumbled across the dirt, wrapped his arms around her waist, hauling her against him as they sank to the ground. Pulling her onto his lap, he tilted her face toward his inspecting a small cut fading into her hairline. “Are you injured?”
“No more than usual.” She offered him a small grin. “That was certainly an interesting second lesson, Mr. Reid. Do you typically allow your students to ride off unattended?”
He dug a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it to the wound. Aunt Abigail was
never going to trust him again—two lessons, two injuries. His eyes glided over Miss Clemens. If she refused another lesson, he wouldn’t blame her.
“Only the more gifted students,” he replied, his mouth crooking. “We need to get you back to the house. Do you think you could ride?”
“Yes, however, you will need to help me onto Shadow.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
He tilted his head. “Miss Clemens, I am surprised.”
“Why?”
“Are you not afraid?”
“Would you like me to be?”
“No. It would make interrogating you much more difficult.” He rose, clutching Miss Clemens against his chest, a wry grin on his lips. “And I have a lot more questions. However, we need to leave before the proprietor of this property discovers us.”
“Why? Is he a vile man?”
“This estate belongs to Mr. Franklin Morris.”
Miss Clemens jaw dropped, the color draining from her skin. Leaning in, she whispered against his neck, “Do you think he is here?”
“No.” Thomas’ eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the sensation of Miss Clemens’ breath tickling his skin. Opening them, he walked over to the horse lingering near the barn. “We have searched the property several times and never found any indication that he’s residing here, but until Morris is captured, it is best not to be wandering around on his land.”
As Thomas reached out for the reins, Shadow moved away, lifting his head and shaking out his mane. Shifting Miss Clemens in his arms, Thomas reached out again. Again, Shadow pulled his head away.
“Come here, little imp,” said Thomas, sticking out his arm a third time. “We’re not playing right now.” Whinnying, Shadow stepped backward, sticking his head behind the partially ajar barn door and shoving it open. The door swung slowly, hinges protesting as it revealed a hay-strewn floor. Sunlight streamed into the barn through the doorway, highlighting a woman’s hand, which laid palm-up, forever frozen in a half-grasp, as though the owner was stretching her fingers to recapture her fleeing soul.
Miss Clemens screamed.