But while he might be toasted as England’s most eligible bachelor, with a string of mistresses and a past paved with broken hearts, he hadn’t the least notion of how to woo this impossible woman. With a shake of his raven head, he watched as she once more turned the stallion and made a leap that would terrify most men.
She was quite simply like no other woman he had ever met. She had no interest in his wealth or title. Not even his enviable position in the ton seemed to have made any impression on her distant heart. And if he had ever vainly considered himself irresistible to the opposite sex, she had swiftly managed to correct this error.
More often than not she managed to make him feel like an unwanted intrusion into her life, endured only for the sake of her brother. And not even the potent memory of her passionate response to his kisses could change the stark knowledge that she was barely conscious of him as a potentially attractive male.
Perhaps it was retribution for the years he had seen women as mere objects for his own pleasure, he acknowledged with a small sigh. What better punishment than falling in love with a young woman who not only considered him a foolish coxcomb, but who would be a constant trial on his nerves even if he did succeed in winning her heart?
With a small laugh at his ridiculous position, Giles abruptly urged his own horse forward. There was little use in regretting his unorthodox wooing of Roma Allendyle. Their relationship had begun in a bizarre manner, and he had no doubt that it would continue in the same fashion. At least he was assured that he would never be bored.
He crossed the field at a leisurely pace, waiting for Roma to reluctantly rein her mount to a halt before joining her beside the road that led to Greystead Manor. As always she eyed him with a wary mistrust that made him long to shake some sense into her.
“Good morning, Roma.”
Her gaze narrowed at his mild tone, and he suddenly realized that she had expected to be reprimanded for her hoydenish behavior.
“Good morning, my lord,” she said; then, as he flashed her an annoyed frown, she gave him a small smile. “Giles. Did you need something?”
“Simply a desire to speak with you in private. Something that is impossible with Aunt Clara fluttering about.”
Her glace was dry. “This was your brilliant plan.”
“Yes, I know. Unfortunately I was not acquainted with your relative at the time.”
Surprisingly, an expression of sympathy crossed her flushed face. “Has it been very bad?”
An urge to play upon her unexpected compassion was swiftly thrust aside as they casually turned the horses toward the graceful country house that slumbered peacefully beneath the lazy spring sunlight.
“Nothing unbearable. Certainly your aunt means well.”
“Yes, but that does not make her any less irritating.” Her smile faded as she shot him a sideways glace. “And I fear she will only become worse as this mythical wedding draws closer. I do not suppose you have given any thought as to how we are supposed to end this farce without breaking her heart?”
He shrugged. “I assume that if worse comes to worst we could go through with the ceremony.”
She gave an audible gasp, the spirited stallion tossing his magnificent head as if sensing Roma’s sudden tension.
“That is not amusing,” she gritted out, regaining control of the skittish horse.
“It was not meant to be,” he confessed, his tone self-derisive. “After all, there is no legitimate reason we should not wed. We are both at an age where neither one of us has unreasonable expectations or foolish romantic notions when it comes to marriage, and we are both old enough to consider setting up a proper household. Besides, we tend to rub along well enough and—”
“Don’t be absurd. We do nothing but snap at one another,” she interrupted, her hazel eyes flashing with something that looked remarkably like panic. “And if you are suddenly in the market for a bride of convenience, then I suggest you search for a biddable woman who can grace the position of Lady Carlton. I assure you I would prove to be nothing more than an embarrassment.”
“And I assure you that you could not possibly be more mistaken,” he said quietly. “It takes more than expensive clothes and a flirtatious manner to be a lady. My own mother was a woman of uncommon spirit and courage. I know she would have taken a great liking to you.”
She blinked, obviously caught off guard by the sincerity in his words.
“I … no, this is a ridiculous conversation. I have no intention of marrying anyone, whether it is for convenience or not.”
Sensitive to the sharp edge that entered her voice, Giles strategically backed away. If nothing else he had planted a seed in her mind.
“There is no need to fly into a pet, my dear,” he soothed, his expression bland. “I was simply pointing out that we have a considerable number of options when it comes time to end our engagement.”
“That is easy for you to say,” she grumbled, clearly relieved at his determinedly light tone. “You are not forced to endure Aunt Clara’s tedious insistence that we discuss every detail of the wedding, or the next evening to hear her change every decision we made the night before.”
“Yes, it must be quite wearing,” he agreed. “But do not imagine I have not suffered. I have heard a dozen different lectures on training you to be a suitable bride, from burning your breeches to selling that monstrous beast you insist on riding rather than a proper lady’s mount.”
Her mouth dropped open with her sheer indignation at his teasing words.
“Sell Diablo? Over my dead body.”
He swallowed the urge to inform her that the first time he had witnessed her thundering across the field on the great brute of a horse he had been seriously tempted to pull her across his knee and beat some sense into her thick head. But after choking back his terror and forcing himself to watch the two with his mind rather than his heart, he had grudgingly conceded that Roma not only maintained full control over the large animal, but that they moved together with a silent understanding that was beautiful to see. It was clear the two possessed a rare trust, and Giles easily sensed that the stubborn woman would firmly dig in her heels at the mere suggestion of finding a more suitable mount. That did not, however, make him wish she did not possess quite so much spirit. It was distinctly uncomfortable to live in constant fear that she was putting herself in some type of mortal danger.
“I doubt if that shall be necessary, my dear.” He flashed her a mocking smile. “No one possesses the required nerve to challenge you in an open confrontation. In fact, as far as I can tell, you terrifying everyone in the neighborhood with your sharp tongue and ever-ready riding whip.”
A crimson blush stained her cheeks, but she couldn’t fully hide the renegade smile that tugged at her lips.
“I am quite sure you are greatly exaggerating,” she retorted. “I certainly do not frighten you.”
“No,” he agreed readily, although that wasn’t quite true. There were times when his unfamiliar emotions for this tiny woman terrified the life out of him. “You won’t be allowed to frighten me away. It takes more than an unruly tongue and a riding whip to intimidate a Carlton.”
She rolled her eyes at his deliberately arrogant tone. “I am sure that is very noble; however, I do not have the time to discuss the questionable merits of the Carlton clan. I have a meeting with my bailiff in half an hour.”
“Please give me a moment, Roma.”
With a small frown of surprise she brought Diablo to a halt and gazed at him with vague impatience.
“Yes?”
He hesitated, suddenly aware that he disliked the notion of creating even more antagonism between them. Still, he wasn’t about to allow her to continue with her dangerous games of cat and mouse.
“Roma, you can not keep up this house-by-house search for your brother.”
“I do not know what you mean,” she retorted, her guilty expression giving her away. It was obvious she had hoped he had remained in ignorance of her covert activities.<
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“Your ploy of playing Lady Bountiful and calling on every house and cottage in the neighborhood has not gone unnoted,” he informed her in a severe tone. “Not only are people speaking of your uncharacteristic burst of social activity, but the vicar and his wife are offended by the endless stream of soup and blankets you are taking to the poor. They assume you are dissatisfied with their own charitable endeavors.”
She gave a proud toss of her fiery curls. “There is nothing unusual in my behavior. Most ladies devote a great deal of their time to visiting their neighbors and caring for the poor.”
He gave an inelegant snort. “Most ladies perhaps, but not you, Roma. I have no doubt that you care as much as the next person, perhaps even more, for the plight of the less fortunate. I have, in fact, heard your aunt speak of your attempts to establish a school for both boys and girls in the area. But you are not in the habit of personally trailing from one house to another, and quite frankly, it is beginning to stir exactly the type of gossip that we were trying to avoid.”
“What does it matter?” she demanded, the frustration that smoldered just below the surface suddenly overflowing. “We came here to search for my brother and so far you have done nothing. I can’t simply wait around and hope he somehow manages to save himself.”
Giles smiled wryly at her less than subtle insults. He knew it was impatience and fear that made her strike out, but it didn’t make the blow any easier to take.
“And so you would rather endanger your brother by openly searching for him house to house, and even worse, placing yourself in danger? Just what do you think would happen if you did stumble across a house where your brother was being held captive?” he demanded, his eyes narrowed. “Do you think the kidnappers would kindly thank you for your soup and then hand William over to you? Surely you have more sense than that?”
Hazel eyes snapped with instant fury at his attack, but he also noted the uncertainty that fluttered across her delicate features. Perhaps he had managed to make her at least consider how futile her risky plan was.
There was silence as she struggled to hide her sudden indecision; then her gaze abruptly narrowed.
“How did you know about my visits in the first place?”
Giles shrugged, refusing to admit that Jameson was currently staying at the local inn, picking up the latest gossip and asking discreet questions. Nor would he admit that he had bribed one of her own servants to follow her wherever she went.
“As I said, people are already talking about your unusual behavior,” he lied with causal ease. “Which is why you must stop at once.”
“And do what?” she demanded angrily. “Waste my time discussing a mythical wedding with my aunt?”
He heaved a small sigh. “Could you not simply trust that I am doing everything possible for William?”
“You?” She didn’t bother to hide her amazement. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, wondering exactly how much he should tell her. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her to keep his covert activities a secret. He was just well enough acquainted with her stubborn nature to realize she would insist on being thoroughly involved in his every movement, no matter how risky.
“I am not sure that—”
His reluctant words were abruptly broken off as the sound of an approaching rider echoed through the still air. On instant alert, he shifted in his saddle to peer down the dusty road. Within moments he could make out the shape of a man trotting toward them at a leisurely pace. The two watched in silence as the unknown rider approached, but as he drew near Giles felt himself stiffen in surprise.
There was no mistaking the small but elegantly attired form or the arrogant tilt to the dark head of Lord Scowfield. Giles bristled with instinctive antagonism, unconsciously assuming his most aristocratic demeanor. Not only did he dislike the overly suave man; he didn’t trust him any farther than he could toss him. It seemed highly suspect for him to return to the country at the same time as Roma.
His companion, however, had no such suspicion, and with an openly pleased smile, she urged Diablo forward to greet the approaching guest.
“Freddie, what a wonderful surprise. I thought you were cutting a dash through town?”
Sweeping an elegant bow from the back of his flashy black stallion, Freddie ran an indulgent glance over her tousled appearance, completely ignoring the menacing man in the background.
“London was sadly flat without you, Roma. I remained long enough to visit my tailor, and attend my aunt at her tedious soirees, before I made my excuses and fled home with all possible haste. Naturally I came over as soon as I was settled.” He flashed her a teasing smile. “I had hoped to convince you to take a short ride with me, but I see that I am too late.”
“Yes, well …” Roma suddenly seemed to recall her less than immaculate appearance. “I did not expect any visitors this morning.”
Freddie chuckled as she lifted a self-conscious hand to her tumbled curls in a thoroughly feminine motion.
“Do not worry. I think you look quite charming.”
Already gnashing his teeth at Roma’s obvious pleasure in the man’s sudden appearance, Giles had nearly exploded at the smooth compliment and the overly familiar manner in which Scowfield’s gaze swept over her too tight clothing. With a strangled hiss, he jerked his horse next to Roma’s and sent the unwanted intruder a warning glare.
“My fiancée always manages to look lovely,” he informed Lord Scowfield in a haughty tone. “But, like most women, she prefers to have advance warning of visitors so that she can entertain them in a conventional manner.”
“Giles …” Clearly startled by his unexpected attack, Roma turned to toss him an angry glace, but Freddie Scowfield remained unperturbed.
“You are quite correct, Lord Carlton, and I extend my full apologies. You can put my lack of manners down to my long-standing friendship with Roma and my eagerness to announce my return home.” His smile did not reach the piercing dark eyes. “And, too, there was a bit of curiosity about the rumors flying about London. I see it is true that the two of you have become engaged.”
There was no way to decipher what the man felt about Giles presence, and he could only assume Scowfield was a master at hiding his inner emotions.
“Yes, it is true, although we must wait for Mr. Allendyle to return from the north before we can make an official announcement.”
This time it was clearly more difficult for the visitor to hide his surprise.
“The north?” He gave a slight cough. “I see … Well, of course, William will be delighted to learn the happy news. He is quite devoted to Roma.”
Giles felt a tingle of warning inch down his spine. He was absolutely certain this man knew more than he was admitting, and he was suddenly determined to discover much more about Lord Scowfield. It could very well be this man held a clue to William Allendyle’s disappearance.
Conjuring up a stiff smile, Giles forced himself to momentarily forget the white-hot jealousy that threatened to cloud his reason and to think of what was best for Roma.
“There are quite a number of us devoted to Roma,” he said in an indulgent tone. “Unfortunately her bailiff is not one of her loyal followers and seems to be in constant need of her firm guidance. I was about to leave her to her daily bout with the troublesome man and take a cup at the inn. Perhaps you like to join me?”
Caught off guard, Freddie hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the puzzled Roma.
“Actually, I—”
“Come, I insist.” Giles deliberately moved his horse between the two, his expression pleasant but determined. “As an old friend of my fiancée I think it is important that we get to know one another. You can regale me with amusing stories of Roma as a young girl.” With a casual movement, be glanced over his shoulder at Roma. “Do not be too harsh on the poor bailiff. Oh … and leave your riding whip in the hall; I have no doubt he is already shaking in his boots at the mere thought of being hauled upon the carpet by your sharp tongue wit
hout adding another weapon. Until later, my dear.”
Seventeen
“There, Miss Roma.” The maid tucked the last curl into the topknot, then stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Don’t you look pretty?”
With a far more critical eye, Roma studied the reflection gazing back at her in the oval mirror. Attired in a pale lemon gown with a trim of silk roses, she appeared far different from the hoydenish miss who had been visible about the estate the past few days. A change that she would bite off her tongue rather than admit she secretly enjoyed. What was the use of fripperies when she had an estate to manage?
“Thank you, Anna.”
“And such a lovely day for a picnic,” the maid continued, her round face turning toward the window where a stray slat of sunlight spilled through the chintz curtain.
Roma followed the servant’s glace, although a small frown tugged at her auburn brows.
“Yes, I suppose it is, although I can not conceive what induced my aunt to plan such an outing. She has always abhorred such rustic entertainments.”
Roma had indeed been startled when she had received a note that morning begging her presence at an informal picnic to be held on the grounds of Rosehill. She could only suppose that her aunt, grown exasperated by her polite evasions and insistence that she was far too occupied to come to dinner over the past few days, had devised a means of ensuring her presence.
A twinge of unease plucked at her conscience. It was nothing short of cowardice to have avoided Rosehill with such diligence. But Lord Carlton’s offhand proposal had bothered her far more than she cared to admit. Even knowing that he was simply attempting to put her to the blush did not dismiss the disturbing quivers in the pit of her stomach.
Lord Carlton’s Courtship Page 18