by Jarecki, Amy
Though Audrey didn’t care for the idea of anyone touching her, let alone ravishing her, she stood her ground. “Isn’t that what Seaforth wants? Marry me off to some rogue so he can return to his life in the wilds of Scotland and forget he ever set eyes on me?”
“I think a stomacher with pearl beading in a paisley pattern would do,” mumbled Mr. Hatfield.
“My dear girl,” said Mrs. Hobbs, completely ignoring the tailor. “What did you think would happen now you’ve returned from Talcotts? Even if your father had lived, he would have needed to arrange your betrothal.”
“Yes, but not in such haste.” Audrey waved her hand at the tailor. “A beaded stomacher sounds ideal.”
The man’s face brightened as he moved closer with a flourish of his hands. “And the same beading for the neckline, leading to cap sleeves.” He held up a sleeve of ivory linen and lace that he’d shown her an hour ago. “And beneath the caps, virago sleeves festooned with ivory ribbon.”
“Red ribbon, please.” Audrey grinned.
“Indeed, I think red would be lovely as well.”
Mrs. Hobbs drew her hand to her forehead. “Oh my heavens. His Lordship tasked me with planning your gown, and you’re intending to show up looking like a bloodred rose.”
“She will be stunning,” said Mr. Hatfield, his remark met with a sharp snort from the housemaid.
Audrey reached for the red taffeta and rubbed the cloth between her fingers. “I agree with the tailor. Besides, why on earth are you acting like the Earl of Seaforth is lord of this manor? When he returns to Scotland, there will be naught but me.”
The woman’s finger shot up. “And your husband.”
Audrey bit her tongue. She was not about to agree to a swift marriage. The solicitor and Reid MacKenzie could take their scheming and stuff it in their enamel-coated snuffboxes. She didn’t need a husband. The estate was thriving—even without the coin she brought in with her fan painting. Why could she not run things?
Because I am a woman?
Well, if that’s what they believe, ’tis time I showed them differently.
After hours of being pinned, poked, and prodded for a gown that had to be finished in a fortnight, Audrey headed for the stables. The afternoon was fine for a change, and she needed to fill her lungs with fresh air, and moreover seek silence from Mrs. Hobbs’s grumbling.
It took no time for Jeffrey to saddle Allegro, and Audrey’s heart swelled when the stable hand led the high-stepping trotter down the aisle. Oh, how she loved her old gelding. She smoothed her hand down his blaze. “I’ve missed you in the past sennight.”
The horse snorted as if telling her he missed her, too. Allegro had been a gift from her father for her tenth birthday. At the time he’d been a spirited six-year-old pony. He might be a tad long in the tooth now, but they’d grown up together and she loved him. Being an only child and living in the country could be lonely, and often Allegro was on the receiving end of whatever worries happened to be on her mind. Together they’d enjoyed years of riding lessons and walks through the estate. Now at the age of fifteen, he had a bit of gray intermixed with the sorrel on his muzzle. But this fellow still had plenty of spirit left.
A cool breeze fanned her face, and the frustration of the day was whisked away and replaced with Allegro’s smooth gait. Audrey breathed deeply and pointed the gelding toward the far paddocks. There she could ride for miles and stay on the Kennet estates.
So many warring thoughts filled her mind, the most confounding being Lord Reid MacKenzie, the Earl of Seaforth. True, her father had trusted the man. And he seemed to be acting honorably, at least on some accounts. He’d paid for Papa’s burial and he’d agreed to stay on at Coxhoe House until she was settled. At least that’s how it seemed, though he was in such a hurry to return to Scotland. How could the solicitor’s affairs be sewn up within a month or two? Would the earl be forced to return again after he took his leave?
He most likely is trying to do everything in his power to see there is no need for him to return.
And, of course, that led to his ridiculous notion that the solution to all her problems was to marry with haste. The mere thought soured her stomach. Obviously he didn’t realize she was the shyest person who’d ever graduated from Talcotts. There was no way on earth Audrey could meet someone—a man of all people—and charm him in a fortnight or less. She needed first to find a good match with whom she was compatible, and then she intended to be courted for a very long time, followed by a lengthy engagement. The whole concept of marriage was mortifying, and Audrey wasn’t like Miss Prudence at Talcotts, who had known whom she was to marry since the age of two and had been looking forward to her wedding day. For pity’s sake, it was always a relief to spirit away from Prudence for the summer recess so Audrey didn’t have to listen to the girl carry on about her Lord Wexford.
And then there had to be the convenience of Baron Barnard’s ball. Why couldn’t His Lordship have scheduled his ball for last month? Then it would be over. But no. The accursed Reid MacKenzie sends a single missive and receives a swift reply that the baron and baroness just happen to be having a ball at Raby Castle in a fortnight and they would be honored to have Lord Seaforth and Miss Kennet attend as their esteemed guests.
Esteemed? Clumsy is more apt.
I told His Lordship I abhor balls and he completely ignored me. He’s insufferable!
How much more did she need to disclose of her utter ineptitude? Dancing lessons at Talcotts had been a disaster. The dance instructor told her she’d fare better if she found a settee and sat against the wall. If the dance dictated she turn right, she invariably turned left and smacked into the poor girl beside her. She’d earned more bruises from falling in dance class than on the back of Allegro. Truly. Worse, once the dance master discovered she could play the harpsichord, he suggested she join the orchestra and stay as far away from the dance floor as possible.
And he’d been right.
Papa had taken her to a royal ball in London two years past. Queen Anne had been in attendance, no less. Throughout the duration of the debacle, Audrey had been mortified. She’d tripped over her own feet and stumbled across the aisle straight into lord someone-or-another, whose name she’d conveniently forgotten. Mortified, she ran to the drawing room and plopped into a chair, where she remained until it was time to go home.
Audrey cued Allegro for a canter.
And now I’ll be attending a grand ball at Raby Castle dressed like an overripe tomato.
She had to laugh at the irony. Regardless of how she was dressed, she would embarrass herself the first time some gallant gentleman asked her to dance. At least now, the Earl of Seaforth could share in a bit of discomfort escorting a vixen in red on his elbow. Gracious, Audrey had never done anything so scandalous in her life.
Perhaps Father’s passing had certainly brought out her disagreeable side. Perhaps the red gown was her way of showing she was in no way, shape, or form ready to marry anyone.
She tapped her riding cane on Allegro’s barrel. “Come, lad. Let us jump the hedge.”
The privet had grown a few inches since last summer, though they’d cleared it with ease then. Leaning forward in the saddle, Audrey gathered the reins and steadied her bottom leg tight to the lower pommel. How wonderful it felt to have the wind at her face with the heightened anticipation of an approaching jump. Her heart soared as Allegro’s front hooves tucked up while he flew over the hedge. It was a perfect setup and a perfect launch. If only someone were there to see. At least she wasn’t clumsy when riding.
Allegro landed on the other side with a sudden jolt. Audrey clenched her legs tightly, reaching down to his withers for a bit of mane to stop herself from falling. Allegro faltered. Concerned, she pulled him to a stop. “Are you well, old chap?” She leaned over to look at his pasterns, but could see absolutely nothing for the volume of her skirts. “How about testing with a few steps?”
But when the horse tried to walk, he faltered again. She glanced back
over her shoulder. The stable was already miles away. She’d been so consumed by her own thoughts, she hadn’t worried about how far they’d gone.
“Curses, there’s naught else to do but to walk.” And she’d need to walk around the hedge, too.
After she dismounted, Allegro nudged her with his nose. She gave him a pat and examined his legs. Nothing seemed swollen. “Where are you sore?” She led him forward a few steps.
The horse definitely favored his right front. Smoothing her hand down his left leg, she tapped his fetlock and encouraged him to raise his hoof.
“Oh dear, Allegro, you’ve torn your frog, and ’tis bruised as well. I imagine that doesn’t feel good in the slightest.” She dropped his hoof and straightened, moving her hands to her hips. “There’s nothing to mend such an injury except Father Time, and one of Jeffrey’s poultices.”
Allegro groaned. Yes, he knew it, too. And it was going to be a long walk back to the stables.
“Audrey?”
Though she recognized the voice, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “My lord,” she said, her voice almost shrieking. She cleared her throat to calm herself. “Whatever are you doing out here?”
He reined his mount to a stop beside her, his dark eyebrows drawing together. “I was about to ask you the same. Are you all right, lass?”
“I’m fine.” She gestured to her horse. “Allegro has torn his frog.”
“Then ’tis a good thing I ventured past.” He dismounted and swept his gaze from head to toe. Once again, he regarded her with a hawk-eyed stare that bordered on dangerous. Must he always look so menacing, glaring from beneath his thick tawny locks? It didn’t help matters that he towered over her like a muscle-bound warrior. Truly, there was no need for an earl to be so powerful, was there? “Do you always venture this far from the manse alone?” he asked.
“At times.” In fact, she rarely ever rode this far by herself. Papa always used to accompany her on long rides.
“Well, I’d prefer it if you would take one of my guards in the future—or the stable hand. It is never a good idea to ride without an escort.”
She glanced over her shoulder, then feigned a guffaw. “But you are alone.”
“Aye, though I am a man.” He gestured to the dirk on one side of his sporran and pistol on the other. “And a well-armed man at that.”
She heaved a sigh. “I suppose that makes all the difference.”
“It does. What if someone, an outlaw, set upon you? How would you fend off an attack?”
“I would gallop back to Coxhoe House faster than you can blink.” And next time she ventured out, she’d bring a musket.
“On a lame horse?”
She looked to the sky and groaned. Must guardians be so unbearably insufferable? “I wasn’t expecting my horse to go lame, my lord.”
He offered his hand. “Come now, we can ride back together. We’ll lead your horse along slowly. The best place for him is in his stall.”
Agreeing, she allowed him to give her a leg up. In truth, it was a relief the earl ventured past when he did. Until he slid into the saddle behind her. Suddenly, Audrey couldn’t breathe. Brawny arms reached around her and he took up the reins. His fingers were long and rugged with small scars, as if he’d met with many nicks in all the sparring he did. His scent washed over her as if they were riding through a paddock of sultry spice.
“I meant what I said back there.” Lord Seaforth’s voice rumbled through her insides like a lazy roll of thunder. Good heavens, it even sounded deeper. “You mustn’t ride unescorted.”
Audrey wanted to oppose him, but her actions had been a bit impulsive. Had Papa been there, she wouldn’t have taken such a risk. Since the earl had arrived, she’d surprised herself by being quite bold. Bolder than ever before. She ought to be mortified with herself, but honestly, her tad of brazenness made her feel empowered.
“Agreed?” he pushed.
“Yes.” The word came out breathless as she closed her eyes and leaned into his wall of a chest. By the saints, what woman wouldn’t agree with such a man when he had his arms around her waist, power radiating off his chest like he was lord high protector of all of Britain. She allowed herself a moment to ponder what it would be like to marry someone like Reid MacKenzie—someone who would protect her, stand up for her. No, it hadn’t slipped her notice that he’d placed some confidence in her abilities when the solicitor visited. Heavens, if it weren’t for the earl, her lands would be in abeyance at the moment.
He took in a deep breath, which made his chest press into her back a bit more. And then when he let it out, warm air slipped past her ear. Audrey watched his fingers work the reins, holding them in an easy grip as if he’d been riding all his life.
Most likely, he has been.
She released a long breath at the thought and relaxed against him. She’d never admit it, but she rather enjoyed the way he made her feel. Her skin tingled as she rode safely protected between his brawny arms.
In truth, Audrey ought not to be enjoying herself so much. She knew very little of the earl, aside from the fact that he was a Jacobite and lived somewhere in Scotland…and he’d been orphaned as a teen. She hadn’t seen his man MacRae for days, either. What other business did the earl have that necessitated the urgency for him to return to the north?
She grazed her teeth over her bottom lip and glanced up to his face—handsome as the devil. “Where has the MacRae chieftain gone off to?”
“Dunn has taken missives to my colleagues in the north.”
“About your visit with James?”
The man chuckled—a laugh that rumbled all the way through Audrey’s insides and made her heart hammer. “Your father told you about that, did he?”
“In a roundabout way, yes.” Papa’s business was now her business. “He said the taxes levied from the wars were bleeding him dry.”
“Him and near everyone else.”
“Ah…how did your meeting go with the prince?”
“Nowhere near as favorably as I would have hoped.”
She tsked her tongue. “I would think James would be anxious to come home—to claim his rightful line to the throne.”
“’Tis quite dangerous to speak of such things.”
“But you set out on a perilous mission—and with my father. Why should I not discuss them with you?”
“Because it is far safer to remain ignorant.”
“So why did the Jacobites prevail upon you and my father to appeal to the prince?”
“We volunteered. Though ’tis not wise to utter the word ‘Jacobite.’ Not ever. Not even out here in the paddock.”
“But you uttered it.”
“Many times. But only in the right company. Otherwise we call our quest the cause.”
“So tell me, my lord, do men fear you?”
“Some do.” His voice grew deeper. “If they’re wise.”
“Goodness, you do sound quite dangerous.”
“Believe me, lass. I am dangerous.”
Chapter Eight
God’s teeth, Reid meant every word of his warning to Audrey not to ride out alone. A weaker man than he would have raised her skirts and slid into her right there on the back of the horse. Use a bit of that rocking motion to bury himself deep inside the lass.
He might have tried it, if he hadn’t taken an oath to protect Nicholas Kennet’s daughter. But now he could only grind his back molars while the horse ambled toward the stables as Miss Audrey’s thigh rubbed into his cock with every step. He enjoyed the sensation and hated it all at once. Jesu, merely the lavender fragrance of the silken tresses teasing his nose was enough to send him undone. Wisps had escaped her chignon and lightly brushed his cheeks.
With his next inhale, he nearly moaned aloud. Next time he came upon Miss Audrey with a lame horse, he’d opt to walk. What was he thinking, mounting behind his bonny, fully grown female ward? His bloody mind had run amok because this business with Prince James had kept him from bedding a woman for months.
/> Damn it all, must those breasts tempt him like no tomorrow? Miss Audrey could pass for a princess with her long, slender neck, supporting a lovely, heart-shaped face with eyes that could seduce any man’s soul.
He released a breath that skimmed down the arc of that ivory neck. Gooseflesh instantly pebbled on her skin as she drew in a subtle gasp.
Reid grinned when she didn’t turn his way. The lass had strength of character he hadn’t seen in many other women. Aye, since the age of sixteen, he’d grown accustomed to turning the female head. In fact, of all the women he’d fancied over the years, not one would have ignored such a flirtatious gesture. Though Audrey kept her gaze turned toward the path ahead.
Thank heavens the lass had no idea of the effect she had on him. He was her guardian, for Christ’s sake. He had no right to ogle the lass, and that definitely included fixating on her breasts. She was in mourning…and undertaking foolish actions like riding without an escort. Reid knew Nicholas Kennet well enough to realize the man would not have approved of his daughter riding off alone. She was taking liberties. But why? To prove her independence?
Audrey shifted and turned toward him. Dear God, she was bonny, and when her gaze met his, an improper stirring swirled low in his loins. “How did you happen past me at that very moment?”
Ah, yes, the reason he was in this predicament in the first place. “I was returning from a visit to the mine. Met with Mr. Poole.”
“Oh.” A hint of disappointment resounded in her voice. “I would have liked to meet with him as well.”
“’Tis a good idea, though I wanted to have a word first—let him know you are in charge with my backing—you ken, ensure there’s no attempt at swindling.”
She bit her lip and nodded, the sun making her eyes sparkle. “Thank you—especially for believing in me.”
His heart fluttered, the damned thing. “We’ll need to sit down and go over the books of accounts. I’ll say your father established a thriving and healthy business. And Mr. Poole is eager to continue.”