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Lord Carlton’s Courtship

Page 2

by Alexandra Ivy


  Shivering slightly, Giles huddled deeper in the uncomfortable hay. He was desperately worried about his impetuously brave cousin. Had he somehow managed to escape the bloodthirsty gang? Would he have the sense to continue toward London or would he be foolhardy enough to return and risk his life in search of him?

  Giles sighed, wishing he had left Jack safely in London. This wasn’t the first adventure his cousin had accompanied him on, and normally he enjoyed Jack’s ready humor and enthusiasm. It wasn’t until tonight that he fully realized the danger to which he had exposed the young man.

  Sunk in dark thoughts as the night slowly passed and the storm eased, Giles eventually rose to stretch his knotted muscles. He was fairly confident the danger had passed, but his mind was far from easy.

  There were still too many unanswered questions that had to be settled. Starting with the woman still lying peacefully in the straw. Taking a step forward, he came to a sudden halt as she stirred slightly, her heavily fringed lids fluttering slowly open.

  Absurdly Giles found himself holding his breath as her confused gaze traveled over his mud-splattered clothing and tousled raven hair. Hazel, he thought inanely, meeting her wide eyes with an unconscious frown. He had been almost certain they would be green.

  “Where am I?”

  The voice was weak, but Giles instantly sensed the fear in her low words. Moving forward, he knelt beside her on the hay.

  “To be honest, I haven’t the least notion. You led us to this barn after we managed to elude the gang chasing us.”

  Her lids briefly closed, then once more lifted, the vivid beauty of her eyes pronounced even in the dim shadows of the barn.

  “I remember now. They surprised us on the beach … I was shot.”

  “Nothing serious,” he swiftly reassured her. “You should be healed within the month.”

  She seemed to breathe a soft sigh. “I couldn’t tell. It felt as if my shoulder were on fire. Do you think they are gone?”

  “Yes, I imagine they gave up several hours ago. Such men might be willing to attack the unwary, but I doubt they possess the ambition to search for armed men in such miserable conditions as existed.”

  His brisk tone slightly eased the tension of her pale features, but his shrewd gaze didn’t miss the flicker of unease that entered her large eyes.

  “I suppose I should thank you. I have no doubt that you saved my life.”

  “Perhaps.” Giles gave an indifferent shrug. “But you were the one who discovered this barn. Without it, we both would have suffered through a very unpleasant night.”

  “I am glad I remembered it was here.” She displayed a small frown. “Do you know what happened to my … companion? I can barely remember what happened after I was shot.”

  Giles narrowed his gaze. The woman’s voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the cultured tone.

  “No, but I trust he and my cousin are fine. Jack is a good man to have along in an emergency.”

  She nodded her head, then flinched slightly as his heavy coat rubbed her tender wound. “I hope you are right.”

  “Are you in pain?” He reached out an instinctive hand to check her injury, only to be halted as she hastily sank deeper into the hay.

  “No, I’m fine. Just a bit sore.”

  Giles arched a chiseled brow, the brilliant blue of his eyes filled with wry humor.

  “I fear that it is a little too late for modesty. Unfortunately there was no one here but myself last night to see to your injury.”

  An unexpected flush bloomed beneath her pale cheeks. “I see.”

  His firmly sculptured lips twisted. “I did not, at least not until too late. I assumed that you were a young boy.”

  Her lids dropped in painful embarrassment. “I never expected … I did not think anyone would know.”

  “Clearly you were mistaken,” he retorted firmly, ignoring the vulnerable image she made with her vibrant curls haloing that pale face and the full softness of lips trembling with emotion. He wanted an explanation for her outrageous behavior. “Now, I think it is time you told me exactly what you were doing in that cove last night.”

  Beguiled by her blushing confusion, he was caught off guard when her gaze abruptly lifted to stab him with a sparkling glare.

  “I don’t see why that is necessary. I am grateful for your assistance, but I think it is best if we remain anonymous.”

  “Don’t be absurd.” Giles gave a disbelieving frown. “I can hardly escort you home without at least knowing your name. This situation is going to be difficult enough to explain as it is. I sincerely hope your father doesn’t see fit to call me out.”

  “That’s hardly likely, considering that he is dead,” she retorted bluntly. “And there is no need for you to escort me anywhere. You have the letters you came for; you should be on your way to London.”

  Naturally he ignored her last foolish words. There would be no argument about his seeing her safely home, no matter what the damage to her reputation. But he did find himself curious about her family. What sort of people would allow this young innocent to roam through the night, disguised as a boy and interfering in matters she had no business knowing about?

  “If you have no father, then who is your guardian?”

  For a moment he thought she meant to ignore his question, but finally she gave a restless movement.

  “My brother.”

  “I assume he has no knowledge of your adventure?”

  She paused, an odd flash of pain rippling across her face. “No.”

  “I am relieved.” He tilted his dark head to one side. “No doubt in the future he will be more diligent in his responsibilities. It was sheer insanity for you to enter into such a dangerous charade.”

  Once more the hazel eyes flashed. “And what of you?”

  “Me?” His brow rose in surprise.

  “Was it insanity for you to be at the cove last night?”

  He experienced a flare of unexpected amusement at her sharp tone. The chit certainly had spirit.

  “Perhaps, but at least I am capable of taking care of myself.” He forced himself to lecture her severely. “Can you imagine what would have occurred if those ruffians had managed to waylay you? Trust me, you would have been pleading for death long before they eventually disposed of your body.”

  She gave a small shiver at his deliberately blunt words, and he felt a twinge of guilt at forcing her to contemplate such sordid thoughts. Still, he silently reassured himself, it was best she realized the extent of her folly. Perhaps the next time she would think twice before capering off on some madcap scheme.

  “Please, I do not wish to discuss last night,” she managed to murmur weakly. “My shoulder aches, and I am desperately thirsty. Could I have some water?”

  He allowed himself to smile at her very feminine complaints. He’d been starting to wonder if she possessed any womanly qualities. At least in more than just the physical sense, he corrected, a sudden heat flickering through his lower body as he recalled the exposed beauty of her slender form. Almost instantly he was on his feet, disgruntled by his vivid memories.

  “If I remember correctly there is a stream not too far away,” he said rigidly, keeping his expression unreadable. “You rest here, and I will be back in a few moments.”

  “You are so very kind,” she muttered, her lids drooping with a mixture of pain and exhaustion.

  With a wry smile, he wondered if she would think him so kind if she knew precisely what thoughts had been burning in his mind; then, with a small shrug, he turned and headed for the bag he had left beside the horses.

  Within moments he had extracted a fine silver flask, and with one last glance at the sleeping woman, he quietly made his way out of the barn, leaving the door wide open in case she should call for help.

  It was a fine morning, he discovered, heading toward the line of trees they had traversed the night before. Overhead the early morning sun attempted to dry the lingering wetness of the tender spring grass, and the ai
r was spiced with the pungent scent of wildflowers. A perfect day for a ride, he decided, feeling unexplainably lighthearted for a man in his position.

  No doubt it was mere relief after the traumatic night, he concluded, halting beside the small stream. A natural reaction to a near-death experience.

  Bending down, he was in the act of filling the flask with the chilled water when a sudden noise had him jumping to his feet.

  Spinning about he rushed back toward the barn, his instincts on full alert. But despite his speed it took several moments to at last reach the edge of the thick woods, and even as he stepped clear of the trees a horse galloped past him, headed for the wide fields that surrounded the barn.

  For long moments he stood in frozen amazement, watching the tiny woman disappear over a low hill. Then he gave a disgusted shake of his head.

  “Damn.”

  For the first time in his life, Lord Giles Carlton had been neatly outwitted. And by a pint-sized chit with more courage than sense.

  Two

  The babble of conversation nearly drowned out the lively music playing in the corner of the large ballroom as the glittering guests swayed past.

  “Smile, Roma. This is a party.”

  Slightly turning, Roma Allendyle favored her handsome young cousin with a condemning glare.

  “That’s easy for you to say, Claude. As a male you are free from the constant surveillance of those malicious tabbies in the corner. I am quite certain that they are impatiently awaiting for some excuse to rip me to shreds.”

  Claude Welford gave an appreciative chuckle at the frustrated edge in the young woman’s voice. He easily remembered his first season in London and his terror of the grim dowagers. No doubt it was even more terrifying for Roma. Not only did she possess far more spirit than was proper for a young lady, but she had been raised in a haphazard style by her eccentric father. More often than not the Colonel forgot Roma was a young lady, treating her much the same as his oldest son, William. Now that she was being abruptly thrust into Polite Society, she must feel overtly aware of her lack of feminine polish.

  “Ignore them,” he commanded softly, drawing her slightly away from the large crowd filling the ballroom. “You are doing splendidly. I have overheard more than one old matron telling Mama how becoming they found your manners. I swear I nearly burst out laughing when one babbled on about your sweet nature and modest demeanor. I wondered what she would think if she could see you in your breeches, striding around Greystead Manor like a tyrant and frightening the poor estate manager with your riding whip.”

  The hazel eyes that Roma had kept properly subdued with stern determination abruptly flared to life.

  “That poor estate manager was attempting to rob me blind, and with Father dead and William missing, I didn’t have much choice but to take charge of the estate. Something impossible to do when everyone used my skirts as an excuse to ignore my every order.”

  “Don’t fly into a pet, Roma.” Claude flashed her an engaging grin, appearing boyishly handsome with his golden blond hair and elegant attire. Although not a dandy, he took inordinate pride in his Weston-tailored coat and elaborately arranged cravat. “You have my full respect for the way you have managed to keep Greystead on its feet. And I also appreciate the sacrifice you made in allowing Mama to drag you to London for your introduction to Society. I know quite well how much you detest behaving like a proper lady.”

  Roma attempted to send the taunting man a censorious glare, but the amused sparkle in his brown eyes was her undoing, and with a rueful sigh she glanced around the brightly lit room with its lavish decor and noble assembly. She knew most women at the advanced age of three and twenty would be overjoyed at making a long overdue entrance into the London ton. But while she did find many of the various entertainments diverting, she longed for the unrestricted freedom of her home. Only there could she feel truly comfortable and able to concentrate on matters far more interesting than the latest fashion or who had flirted with whom at the previous assembly.

  Still, she had come to London with a purpose. It had been nearly three weeks since William had left Greystead on a covert mission for the government, and impatient with her futile attempts to discover his whereabouts locally, she had reluctantly given in to her aunt’s insistent urging that she come to town—with the sole purpose of continuing her investigation. Now that she was here, however, she found herself uncertain about how to proceed. It wasn’t as if she could simply begin asking each person she encountered if he or she knew where her brother might be. She had to somehow discover a means of being introduced to the few men who might have information.

  “I will own that it has been difficult,” she said softly. “In the week since we arrived I haven’t had a moment’s peace. Your mother has induced me to attend a dozen different gatherings, not to mention the visitations, the rides in the park and being outfitted with a completely new wardrobe.”

  “Yes, I applaud her efforts.” With a languid movement designed to set his cousin’s teeth on edge, Claude raised his quizzing glass to his eyes and slowly inspected her simple silk gown in a frothy sea green with jade ribbons that matched the velvet band in her vivid auburn curls. “You look quite different without your breeches, almost passable, in fact. But how did you manage to explain that bullet hole in your shoulder you are taking such pains to hide?”

  Roma blushed. The wound, although nearly healed, was still shockingly red, and it had taken the modiste’s considerable imagination to create gowns that satisfied the current fashion while hiding the disfiguring mark.

  “I said that I had taken a fall while attempting to clear a hedge.”

  Claude gave a short burst of laughter. “Lord, that must have scratched at your pride. Everyone knows you have the best seat in the country. My mother must have windmills in her head to swallow such a Banbury tale.”

  “Please, Claude, I would rather not discuss that night,” she said in a low tone. “It is something I am trying to forget.”

  “You never did tell me what happened to you.” He tilted his head slightly. “All I know is that we were separated when those men attacked, and I spent one devil of a night waiting for you to return to Greystead.”

  She shivered slightly, unable to prevent the haunting image of a dark, aristocratic face and mocking blue eyes from rising to her mind. It was ludicrous that his potently handsome features should have troubled her during the last fortnight. He was just a man who had briefly passed in and out of her life, she told herself sternly. And if she hadn’t met him under such traumatic circumstances, she doubted that she would have even taken note of him.

  “Because there is nothing to tell,” she forced herself to answer her cousin’s subtle probing with a light tone. “Now why don’t you go and flutter the hearts of the numerous young women who keep casting their lures in your direction? I wouldn’t want to be accused of monopolizing one of England’s most eligible bachelors.”

  Claude pulled a comical face. “I am not nearly deep enough in the pocket for that particular title. From all reports Lord Carlton is once more the season’s prime catch.”

  “Carlton?” Roma wrinkled her brow. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

  “Trust me, you would remember if you had. According to most of the fairer sex, he is quite irresistible, not to mention as rich as a nabob,” Claude informed her dryly.

  Roma rolled her eyes. “You mean a shameless rake.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. He doesn’t trifle with innocents, or anything of that sort. Of course, it is only natural that a man in his position would enjoy a few … pleasures in the petticoat line.”

  With a jaundiced eye, Roma watched her cousin blush. “Naturally.”

  “Dash it, Roma, I am constantly forgetting you are a woman and that I shouldn’t talk of such things,” he muttered.

  “As if any woman were so noodle witted as not to know of demireps,” she retorted in a chiding tone.

  “Well … it is not proper.” />
  She gave a small shrug. “Why should I care if this Lord Carlton has a dozen mistresses? He sounds like an odious man.”

  “Oh, no.” Claude gave a shake of his head. “I only met him on one occasion, but he was a likable chap. Had a certain presence, if you know what I mean. And I can only wish I could have his reputation as a sportsman. He is a first-class Corinthian.”

  Thoroughly bored by Lord Carlton’s seemingly endless list of accomplishments, she allowed her gaze to roam toward the dance floor now filled with colorful guests, all fully enjoying the music.

  “How much longer need we stay?” she asked, her tone weary.

  “Stay? We just arrived.” Claude glanced at her in surprise. “Surely you would like to meet a few of the guests?”

  Alerted to the odd edge in his voice, she abruptly returned her attention to the man at her side.

  “Any guest in particular?” she asked in an ominous tone.

  Thoroughly discomforted, Claude waved an embarrassed hand. “Just a few of my acquaintances.”

  “Oh, Claude, not you too,” she cried, her expression annoyed. Claude was well aware that her presence in London had nothing to do with these devilishly dull parties or the various men dangled beneath her nose. It was bad enough to endure his mother’s kindly, but relentless matchmaking without him adding to her trials. “You know I abhor starched-up dandies beyond all things.”

  Claude’s fair skin reddened. “I’ll have you know that my friends are not dandies, and if it wasn’t for their continual badgering, I would never have agreed to introducing them to you. As it is, I can not imagine why they are so insistent. Granted you are not a bad-looking woman, but the fashion is for blond hair and blue eyes.”

  Roma’s burst of anger instantly evaporated into a chuckle at Claude’s sincere puzzlement. She, too, had been surprised by the attention she had attracted. As the daughter of a mere colonel with few female accomplishments to boast of, she had been quite prepared to find herself blithely ignored. But she hadn’t counted on her determined aunt, who had complacently spoken of the Colonel’s various acts of heroism, and of the Prince Regent’s accommodation of his sacrifice for his country, or the fact that her mother came from a decidedly noble lineage. And she certainly hadn’t counted on her unusually vivid coloring and deceptively frail form capturing the attention of men quite sated by the influx of insipid blond debutantes. Even her pointed lack of interest in their gallant attempts to engage her in light flirtations had only served to increase their pique. As a result she found herself in the uncomfortable position of being continually pursued, despite her best attempts to remain firmly in the shadows of the ton.

 

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