She smiled, “Your shoulders are too wide,” she said. Then, realizing that she had held his hand much too long to be appropriate, she dropped it and stepped back with a small gasp then quickly turned to take up her basket once again.
“What do the size of my shoulders have to do with whether I teach music or not?” he demanded. The woman was confusing, to say the least.
She shrugged. “They just don’t go together. I don’t know why.”
He scrambled to keep up with her as she continued down the path. “What else?”
“The lack of ink stains confirm that you are no man’s secretary or clerk. As does the lack of paint indicate you are not an artist.”
He frowned, “I could be a sculptor.”
She frowned back at him and shook her head, “Soft hands, remember.”
He sighed internally. No one had ever talked to him this way, repeatedly reminding him just how useless he was.
“Is there more?” he asked, determined to discover as much as possible.
She paused before answering. “Your speech. Obviously, you are educated. Not exceedingly so, but educated none the less.”
He fought to hold back a smile. This woman had confirmed what he had always feared. Mister Toliver, his tutor had known nothing of value.
“From the east, I should think.” she continued. “Maybe London itself.”
“So,” he asked, “if I am not a laborer nor a traveling music teacher. What am I?”
Again, she stopped and studied him. Her right eyebrow rose slightly as she pondered him. He felt a sense of trepidation flow through him as he waited her judgment.
“I would have said soldier,” she said with obvious doubt. “You stand like one. But again, the soft hands. Most of those I have met spent more time with a shovel than a rifle.”
“The officers don’t,” he told her.
She scoffed and waved a hand dismissing his suggestion. “You were no officer. The clothes remember. An officer of the crown wouldn’t be caught dead in a workman’s jacket. Let alone, rough woolen pants. Besides, you lack that haughty nature an officer has.”
He smiled to himself. She didn’t think he was haughty. How nice.
“Again,” he said, “if none of the things you have mentioned. What do you think I might be?”
Again, she paused as she studied him. “Either a thief or a vicar,” she said with a small smile. “And you, sir, are no vicar.”
“A thief?” he exclaimed. “How? Why?” the silly woman was insane. How dare she?
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. But something is off. It doesn’t make sense otherwise. No work, new clothes.”
He stopped and gently held her back. “Yet, you would walk through the forest all alone with a thief?”
She smiled back up at him as she slowly pulled her hand from the pocket of her dress. In her hand was a small knife. Sharp. And something told him the woman would not hesitate to use it if necessary.
His eyes grew big for a moment then he threw his head back and laughed. “I assure, Miss Stafford, I am no thief. You need not fear.”
The young woman frowned for a long moment. “Then sir, I will ask again what were you doing in Lord Brookenham’s orchard on a Wednesday afternoon?”
He smiled down at her then turned to continue walking again. What should he say? What could convince her that she need not fear him? The truth. No, he realized. He didn’t want her knowing the truth about him. She would no longer see him. Not the real him.
No person he had ever known had seen him as she saw him. Granted, it was what he was not. But it was so much more than he was used to.
Daniel shrugged his shoulders. “Let us just say that I am searching for the truth.”
She slammed to a halt, her expression obviously upset, disappointed in fact. “A philosopher then. Oh please, tell me you are not one of those silly young men who travel across the country searching for meaning to life. A more pitiful, useless being could not exist.”
He cringed. She made it sound so terrible. “Why not? Surely there is nothing more important than knowing why we exist.”
She laughed as they came around a turn in the trail and pointed to a small stone cottage with a leaning fence around the front yard. Flower boxes with a medley of color rested under both windows. Tall rose bushes exploded with color across the entire face of the building.
“This is where we live,” she said as she pointed to the house. “And I assure you. If you are a thief, we have nothing of value. So, you would be wasting your time. And if you are a philosopher, you will spend your life in pursuit of what most of us already know. Meaning can only be found in family. And God, of course. But responsibility to family. There is nothing of more significance.”
He looked down at her and sighed inside. The woman was so wrong. She had a great deal of value.
“We?” he asked as a sudden fear filled him. She had introduced herself as Miss. But perhaps that had been a slip. Was she married? And if not, why not. A woman like this must have a dozen men interested.
She stepped through the gate then closed it behind her. “My sisters, and my aunt,” she said as she latched the gate shut. The sound of the click put an exclamation point to the issue. This far and no further, it said.
Daniel sighed with relief as he continued to study her for a long moment. She hadn’t run into the house to get away from him. Even now, she was looking at him strangely, as if trying to decipher a puzzle.
“Thank you for escorting me home, Mr. Marlow,” she said with a soft smile. “And again, for catching me when I fell from the tree. I assure you, it was most brave.”
He smiled. She thought he was brave. How sweet.
The two of them held each other’s stare for a long moment. Then, her cheeks grew pink once more as she turned and hurried to the house. He stood there at the gate and watched her open the front door. Then, just as he thought she would disappear forever she turned back to him.
“You are no philosopher,” she said, “you seem too intelligent to waste your life in such a silly pursuit.” Then, without another word, she slipped into the house and was gone.
He took a deep breath and sighed heavily. What a remarkable woman.
As he turned to go back to the Inn, he wondered what he should tell Brookenham. They were due to meet later that night by the stone bridge. They had agreed that he would spend his time at the village inn instead of taking up residence in the main house.
If he was to learn anything then he must remain hidden in plain sight.
Should he even mention the beautiful young woman residing in one of the estate’s cottages or should he keep that knowledge to himself?
For some reason, he decided to keep the secret for a little longer. It was of no great significance and Brookenham didn’t need to know to make a judgment about how the estate was being run.
No, better to keep this to himself. Especially, as he knew very well, he would return. Something told him that he would not be able to stay away.
Chapter Four
Ann sighed heavily as she leaned against the door and tried to calm her racing heart. The man was a mystery. On so many levels.
Who was he and why was he here? Her mind jumped to a thousand different scenarios but each was tossed aside as being too implausible.
All she knew for sure was that he was too handsome for his own good. And the way he had saved her. It was enough to take her breath away. Catching her out of mid-air. Cradling her in his strong arms.
She remembered the safe, secure feeling that had washed through her when he held her. God, such a glorious feeling. As if she was meant to be there.
And the way he talked with her. As if they were equals. As if he really cared for her opinion. So unlike any man she had ever known. Usually, women were dismissed as unintelligent, useless creatures. Good for only a few things. Housework being second on the list.
But not Daniel. No, he had talked with her, not at her.
And those shoulders, those dark
eyes. They had brought to life something deep within her. Something she had not known was there. She had read about it of course. But this was the first time she had ever experienced it.
A longing, a need, a physical need.
The realization made her cheeks grow warm again as she pushed off the door and made her way to the kitchen.
“Who was that I saw you talking to?” Aunt Ester said as she came around the corner.
“I don’t know,” Ann answered, suddenly very worried about anyone knowing about the man. What if word got back to the main estate that a strange man was lurking about. They would run him off and she would never see him again.
“We met on the trail. He exchanged pleasantries.
Aunt Ester frowned as she studied her niece. The old woman’s eyebrow narrowed in confusion. That was the problem with Aunt Ester, you could never tell when she was going to be confused, or when she was going to be astute. Unfortunately, today appeared to be the later.
“Really?” the old woman said. “Such a handsome man and you didn’t learn anything about him?”
Ann shrugged as she started to remove the apples. If she was quiet, perhaps her aunt would drift back to a confused state.
“Anything about who?” Lydia said as she stepped into the kitchen.
Ann fought to stop from rolling her eyes. Did everyone have to know?
“A handsome man walked Ann to the front gate,” Aunt Ester said with a smile.
“Really?” Lydia exclaimed as she stopped examining the apples to study her sister. “Who was this stranger?”
Ann sighed. “How do you know he was a stranger?”
Lydia laughed, “Because as you and I well know, there aren’t any handsome men within ten miles.”
Ann bit back a smile. Oh yes there were, and one of them had saved her from death.
.o0o.
The next morning, after breakfast, Ann informed her sisters that she was going out to retrieve various herbs and plants. It was her duty to keep the house supplied with medicinal herbs and anything else the forest could provide. Plus, sometimes she was able to trade her concoctions for a little extra. Every bit helped.
“I saw some witch hazel over by the big cedar tree to the east,” Isabelle said as she carried her plate to the wash basin.”
Lydia laughed, “Ann’s not searching for witch hazel. Not unless it is about six foot two with dark brown hair.”
“Lydia,” Ann snapped. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
The middle sister just smiled with a satisfied grin. Ann felt the butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach as she realized just how right her sister was. She was going out in hope of seeing Daniel once more.
Then, as soon as they arrived, the butterflies stopped. What if he was gone? What if she never saw him again? Gone. She would never know anything about him. Never know why he left.
The sudden sadness that filled her surprised her. No, he thought. Please no.
“You better hurry,” Lydia said with a quick smile. “Aunt Ester will be down soon and there is no telling if you will get out of here or not.”
Ann nodded, yes, her sister was right. Grabbing a wool shawl from the peg. And a flat basket, she started to leave when Isabell stopped her.
“Here,” her youngest sister said as she reached up and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. Then slid one of her own hairpins in to keep it in place.
Ann smiled down at her sister as her heart began to race. What would she say to him if she found him again? What would he think? Would he believe that she was chasing after him? Surely not.
As she closed the gate behind her, she wondered where he might be. The orchard perhaps? Without thinking, her pace quickened until she was almost running. When she reached the orchard, she slammed to a halt and scanned the area. No Daniel.
Her heart fell. Where might he have gone? There were a thousand places.
“More apples?” a deep voice called out to her. Her heart lurched, he hadn’t moved on. He hadn’t left.
Twisting around a tree, her breath hitched as she found him halfway buried in a ditch. A shovel in his hand and his shirt off. God, the man was built like a Greek God. All straight lines and hard muscles.
“What are you doing?” she asked before she could think it through.
He laughed. “Digging a ditch. What does it look like?”
She grimaced and bit her tongue. “Why?” she was able to say.
He shrugged those massive shoulders, pointed and said, “Because this is where they told me to dig. They wanted a ditch from there to over there. I suppose to drain a wet spot.”
Her stomach fluttered as she forced herself not to stare at his wide chest.
As if understanding the impact he was having he, reached over and snatched a shirt from a low branch and slipped into it. A sense of disappointed loss flowed through her.
But she had to admit to herself, that it was probably for the best.
“Why you?” she asked him, determined not to look like a blithering idiot. “It doesn’t appear to be the normal work of a philosopher.”
He laughed. “I don’t know. I do believe I have done some of my best thinking this morning. Something about hard work clearing the mind.”
She swallowed hard. This was not how she expected the morning to go.
He climbed out of the ditch and stepped towards her. “So, apples? If so, please let me climb the tree this time. If I fall you can catch me, it is only fair, after all.”
She laughed as she looked up into his smiling eyes. “I fear I might not be as skillful.”
His eyes crinkled and the two of them stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. A thousand thoughts flashed through her head. Why hadn’t he left? Was it because of her? Was that why he had returned to the orchard? Was that why he had taken a job to dig a ditch? Could he find her interesting?
Her stomach tightened with a sudden fear. Was he to be trusted? Had he discovered a soft target? No, she realized, something inside of her told her that he was a gentleman. If not by birth, then by inclination.
“No. No apples. Not today,” she said. “Today it is Witch Hazel and a few other things.”
He nodded slowly. “Well then, may I accompany you? I have always been extremely curious about such things.”
She felt her brow furrow as she glanced at the now empty ditch. “What of your work?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “They will pay me when it is done, regardless of how long it takes me.”
Ann laughed. It was so obvious the man had no desire to be there working. It was her he wished to spend time with. The thought sent a thrill of pure pleasure through her. Yet, at the same time, a sudden fear filled her. She must enter the forest. Alone. With a man. A handsome man. What would the people of the village say?
They would be scandalized. Perhaps the Vicar might even denounce her from the pulpit. She well knew the expectations placed upon a young woman. But the thought had no sooner entered her mind when she realized that she didn’t care.
She would probably never marry. Besides, this man could be trusted. Deciding the best course of action was to neither invite him nor deny him, she took the path that led to the big cedar tree.
He smiled as he fell in beside her. She glanced at him from under her brow. He was still as handsome as she remembered. His sharp cheekbones, the same fierce dark eyes. And his shoulders remained wide and strong.
As she watched him, her stomach tightened again. The man could be trusted. But could she? For the first time in her life, she wondered about her own self-control. The realization of what she wanted and how he made her feel was like a bolt of lightning shot through her.
The Vicar was right, temptation was very real.
“So,” he said, “tell me about yourself.”
The bluntness of his questions shocked her. Was this the way men and women talked? She had so little experience.
“After all, we did spend yesterday discussing my many failings,” he added.
She grinned and shook her head, “No sir, I talked about my observations. Perhaps you should do the same. After all, a roaming philosopher must observe the world around him.”
He smiled and said, “Remember, you said I wasn’t a philosopher.”
“Nor poet, I came to think last night.”
“Oh, did you spend the night thinking about me? How interesting,” he said with a smirk.
Her cheeks erupted with fire. How had she gotten here? A few minutes with the man and she had made a complete fool of herself.
“We are not discussing you, kind sir,” she said with a firm set of her chin. She must bring this conversation back under control before she made things worse. “We are to test your observational skills, remember.”
“Very well,” he said with a formal nod, obviously accepting her rules.
He studied her for a long moment then smiled.
“What?” she asked as a sudden worry gnawed at her stomach. Even though she had nothing to hide. Heaven knew she had no secrets. Yet, the thought of discovering what he thought about her frightened her to her very core.
“Well, obviously,” he began, “you are no lady.”
She gasped as she turned on him. He held up both hands and took a step back while he smiled. “That is a compliment. I assure you.”
Ann frowned as she waited for his explanation.
“First off, while you demonstrate all of the highest qualities of a lady, you introduced yourself as Miss Stafford. Something no noble lady would ever do.”
She sighed, he had meant the formal term, not the colloquial term. And he was correct, so how could she fault him.
“Second,” he added when he saw that she wasn’t going to be angry with him. “You appear to be too intelligent to be a female member of the landed gentry or especially the British aristocracy.”
Ann scoffed as she started back down the trail.
“In addition,” he said as he hurried to catch up with her, “you appear to be educated in things that no British lady would ever know.”
Now it was her turn to frown as she tried to work out what he meant. “Such as?” she asked.
He smiled, “Vital subjects. Such as how to climb an apple tree or where to find Witch Hazel. I can assure you, I doubt there is a woman of the ton who has ever done such things.”
Duke In Disguise (The Stafford Sisters Book 1) Page 3