by Jarecki, Amy
With a nod, Audrey made the puppet frump to the tiny settee and draw her hand to her forehead. “I do believe it has not stopped raining for an entire fortnight.”
Reid let the tinker topple down to the stage. “Och, m’lady, it might be rainin’ but ye canna allow a bit o’ unpleasant weather to sink your spirits.”
The marionette duchess sat erect. “Who are you to enter my abode and tell me what I can and cannot do?”
“I’m nothing but a tinker, a traveling minstrel who brings joy to the hearts of all who listen.” Though Reid spoke with a Highland brogue just like any self-respecting Scot, he poured it on like a native Gaelic speaker would do.
“A minstrel?” Audrey made the puppet’s arms loop in a circle. “You should be sent to the stocks for addressing me with such familiarity.”
“Dear lady, why are ye being discourteous to me? I have not been overly familiar. I have not referred to ye as ‘Fanny the Frump.’”
“Gasp!” The duchess stood. “How did you possibly know that is what they called me in the queen’s court when I was but a child?”
“I ken a great many things, m’lady.” The tinker sauntered toward the duchess. “I’ll make ye a wager—one surely to raise your spirits.”
“Alas, nothing can raise my spirits this day.”
“Aye? But I beg to differ. I wager if I sing, your heart will be mine.”
“No, no, no. I’m afraid that could never happen. A duchess isn’t allowed to give her heart to anyone she pleases.”
“Och, but ye havena heard me sing as of yet.”
Sighing, the marionette resumed her place on the settee. “Then serenade me, sir, and I shall see to it you are fed in the kitchens before you go on your way.”
“Ahem.” Reid overexaggerated a clearing of his throat, then launched into a Highland ditty he’d always loved, substituting a few words to fit their story:
The fair prince sailed o’er the high sea
Searching for the lass who was meant to be
His intended bride fer all to see.
He called in every port from Edinburgh to Inverness
He donned his boots and hiked the slopes o’ Ben Nevis
But his efforts left him dejected and loveless.
As he made his way back to the birlinn
His shoulders drooped along wi’ his chin
When a lass stepped in his path with a bonny grin.
In the blink o’ an e’e his heart was hers
An’ once they were wed, they lived happily for years
This, my duchess, is the story o’ our tears.
Reid quickly exchanged the tinker puppet for the one with the periwig. “Do you not see, lass? I am Prince Ne’er-Do-Well, come to make ye my bonny bride.”
“Oh heavens, I may swoon!”
Boldly, the prince wrapped his floppy arms around the duchess. “I shall catch ye in me brawny arms. And I shall love ye forever!”
“My savior!”
With an infectious laugh, Audrey pulled her marionette up and hung it on the peg. “That was fun.”
Reid followed suit. “It was.”
Again, Audrey turned as red as her scarlet gown had been. “You have a beautiful bass voice. Have you had singing lessons?”
“I did—commanded by Her Highness, Queen Anne.”
“The queen? Whyever would she command you to take singing lessons?”
“She assumed my care after my father’s death. I spent three years at court as her ward. She insisted I pick something musical to study along with mathematics, history, Latin, French, and military strategy. I chose singing.”
“Well, it suits you. You should sing more often.” She smiled warmly.
Reid pulled one of her ringlets and watched it snap back into place. “Mayhap I should.”
Audrey’s tongue slipped to the corner of her mouth, her gaze drifting sideways.
He felt awkward, too. His fingers itched to touch more than just her hair, so he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall instead. “What else do you like to do aside from playing the harpsichord, painting fans, and dallying with marionettes?”
“I like riding, and long strolls in the wood.”
“You do?”
“Yes, and outdoor meals.”
“Och, ’tis a fine time of year for an outing.”
“It is. And Papa used to take me hunting in the autumn.”
“Hunting? Bows or muskets?”
“Muskets, of course. Papa trained me well.”
“I think ’tis good for a lass to be skilled with a weapon. The Baronet of Sleat’s missus is a markswoman not to be surpassed.”
“Honestly?” Audrey shook her head. “Well, don’t tell that to any of the instructors at Talcott Ladies’ Finishing School. They allowed archery as a sport, but frowned upon noisy muskets.”
“Would you like to do a bit of shooting?”
“Me?”
Reid glanced over his shoulder. “I do believe we’ve been alone together for quite some time. Aye, of course you. On the morrow.” He held up a finger. “And dancing.”
“Oh, no. Not dancing.”
“Yes, dancing. I want you utterly confident at the next ball I escort you to.”
She waved her palms in front of her face. “Please, no more balls and no more dancing.”
“I’ll tell you what. Let us make a wager.”
“Like the one our marionettes just made?”
“Somewhat. If after three dancing lessons with me, you are still mortified and averse, I will never ask you to dance again…or attend a ball.”
Her face brightened. “That sounds like something to which I can agree.”
“Then ’tis settled.” He took her hand in his palm and bowed over it. Assaulted by lavender and lace, Reid should have opted for a simple bow without a damned kiss. But now he was committed, he had no choice but to close his eyes and savor pressing his lips to the back of her hand. Beneath his lips, Audrey’s pulse thrummed as quickly as his heart hammered.
Had he just insisted on giving the lass dancing lessons? Dear God, he was daft.
Chapter Nineteen
Of course, it had to rain the following day. Audrey would have much preferred a shooting contest over dancing. But at least Seaforth had given her a way out. After three lessons, he’d realize she was completely lacking in dancing talent and would relent. Thank heavens she’d never be forced to attend another ball.
She awaited the earl in the long assembly hall with its wooden floor, built by the family from whom Papa had purchased the manse. Audrey had rarely ventured inside the room. It was stark and lonely, because Papa didn’t care for dancing and balls, either. Though a shell, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the walls were painted light blue. The ivory reliefs of dancing nymphs, framed by wreaths of ivy, left no question as to what the hall had been designed for.
Mrs. Hobbs had helped Audrey dress the part, and she wore a frosty blue gown with a matching fan, her slippers snug so as not to fall off and trip her. She had enough trouble managing to avoid tripping without her slippers making her twist an ankle or worse.
After taking three turns around the chamber, Audrey about decided the earl had forgotten their appointment, when the big double doors opened.
Reid grinned, moving through the doorway with broad shoulders, looking like a king. He, too, had dressed the part, his hair a wild mane cascading in waves to his shoulders. Atop his shirt he wore a navy velvet doublet and a lace cravat. As usual, he opted for a kilt in dark plaid rather than breeches. The muscles in his legs flexed as he stepped inside, his sporran swinging to and fro, though he wore no dirk in his belt as he usually did. “I see you found the assembly hall,” he said, arching an eyebrow.
She laughed and gestured to the empty space. “I do believe Gerald had to send in a cleaning crew to polish the floor.”
“A shame for such a magnificent chamber to have been ignored.” He slid one foot forward and bowed. “Shall we start with an Englis
h country dance?”
Country dances were Audrey’s favorite because they involved a great deal of standing and clapping. “Very well, but what shall we use for music? Perhaps I should ask Gerald to wheel the harpsichord in?”
“Nice try, lassie.” With a wry grin, he waggled his tawny eyebrows. “But since you didn’t cover your ears when I was singing yesterday, I thought I’d hum.”
Audrey chewed the inside of her cheek. His song had made her skin tingle. She’d nearly whimpered when it was over. And now he was planning to hum while she stumbled through a series of dances?
Holy help.
But hum Reid did while they both sprang into motion for the country dance, standing across from each other as if they were queuing in imaginary men’s and women’s lines. Another good thing about country dances was there wasn’t much touching and far more promenading. Audrey curtsied and he bowed at the end of the first set.
When Reid straightened, he examined her from head to toe. “You executed the steps quite adequately.”
Adequate was about the best compliment she’d hear. “Good enough to earn a passing grade at Talcotts at least.”
“My guess is you are a far better dancer than you give yourself credit.” He thrust out his hands. “Next we shall execute a minuet.”
Audrey took a step away, drawing her fists under her chin. “Oh, no. Surely we should do at least five more country dances before we try something as challenging as a minuet.”
“But why? As I recall, we danced a minuet at Lord Barnard’s ball.”
“Under duress and in a red gown.”
“I doubt your attire had anything to do with your feet.”
“Ah, but in that dress I could be someone other than Miss Audrey Kennet, wallflower, painter, and harpsichordist.”
His eyes narrowed as he drummed his fingers against his lips. “Very well. Imagine yourself to be the Duchess of Ne’er-Do-Well. I would imagine a prideful woman such as the duchess would flourish when in the public eye. Even if she didn’t flawlessly execute every step, she would hold her head high and act like the queen of England.”
Audrey cringed. “Miss Mortified Wallflower suits me better. Did you see that puppet hanging behind the others?”
“I did. And that wee marionette looks nothing like you, Miss Audrey.” When Reid spoke her name, his voice dropped even deeper than usual. He drew it out as if she were the only woman in the room—well, since she was in fact alone in the assembly hall with him, he most likely had nothing else to focus upon. But still, his tone made her stomach flutter as if a hundred butterflies had sprung from their cocoons.
Licking his lips, he stepped closer. “Let’s try something.”
She resisted her urge to back away. In fact, she squared her shoulders. “What would that be, my lord?”
“Close your eyes and stand very still.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“You’ll see. Now close your eyes.”
Letting out a sigh, she complied. No dance master had ever asked her to perform a minuet with her eyes closed. They knew she’d fall on her face, no doubt. The earl stepped so near, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. She could feel the masculine heat radiating off his body and with it, the scent of a vat of simmering cloves. “I want you to imagine yourself in a field of daisies.” His deep brogue rumbled. “You are not wearing a red gown, but one of gold, like the sun, gold like the precious metal that gleams when burnished.”
Audrey took in a long breath, sensing the golden sun radiating on her face.
“Birds are singing around you, their song filled with happiness,” he continued in that same deep bass. “You feel bubbles rolling inside like sea-foam on the shore.”
She licked her lips and smiled while her insides tickled.
He lightly touched her neck and caressed his finger down one side and up the other. “Can you feel the bubbles?” His fingers slipped to the back of her head, making her tingle all over.
“I do.”
“Good.” His fingers continued to caress. “The willow warbler is singing so beautifully, his music makes you want to laugh and spin. Can you imagine laughing and spinning beneath the warmth of the radiant sun, lass?”
Her entire body surged with glorious warmth. “Yes,” she whispered breathlessly.
“Do not open your eyes,” he growled, his lips very near her ear, so much so, he barely had to whisper.
In the next instant, he lifted her by the waist. Air swept beneath her slippers as together they twirled across the floor. Reid’s deep laughter filled the room. “Let go, lassie. Dance amongst the daisies.”
Audrey threw back her head and allowed laughter to peal from her throat. “I’m flying!”
“You’re dancing. You ken the tempo; you’ve played it hundreds of times on the harpsichord. One, two, three, four, five, six,” he repeated while he executed the dance and scandalously held her in his arms. “Say it with me, lass.”
Keeping her eyes closed, she imagined the minuet in her mind’s eye. “One, two, three, four, five, six…”
Before she knew what had happened, her slippers lightly touched the floor as Reid’s cadence continued, so light and refreshing, she couldn’t help but follow along with him. One, two, three, four, five, six, they executed the pattern over and over like they’d been drawn together for the soul purpose of dancing a minuet. Reid’s leg brushed hers. Their palms lightly touched. Audrey opened her eyes. His gaze remained fixed, staring into her soul as he counted the rhythm, slowing ever so gradually. Unable to think of anything but the beautiful green eyes captivating her, consuming her, Audrey had no choice but to dance and dance.
Until their feet stopped moving.
She stood breathless, enchanted.
One corner of his mouth ticked up in a grin while he cupped her cheek with his palm. “That was the most flawless minuet I’ve ever danced, lass.”
“Was it?” she managed to say while her heart hammered.
A lock of hair slipped over his eye, making him look devilishly handsome. She sensed him moving closer.
Am I floating?
Her insides fluttered with anticipation while his lips moved closer, looking as delicious as the filling for a cherry tart. Reid’s long lashes fluttered closed. As soon as their lips met, dizzying euphoria swept over her. But their kiss didn’t start with a soft brushing, a hint of teasing. This was a body-crushing, bone-melting, and provocative kiss. Fire thrummed through Audrey’s blood while passionate heat spilled through her soul.
Slipping her hands around Reid’s waist, she dug her fingers into the thick bands of muscle undulating across his back. Allowing herself to cast aside all trepidation, she followed his lead, swirling her tongue and clinging to him as if he were a buoy in an ardent storm.
Every inch of her flesh craved more. More kissing. More touching. To have him hold her tighter. He kneaded his fingers down her spine until he grasped her buttocks and pulled her flush with his hips. Heaven help her. But something deep inside her still craved more. More hands. More rubbing. More closeness.
More hard, masculine flesh.
Lowering his head, Reid’s clean-shaven chin slid down her neck, fluttering kisses all the way. He moved a hand to her waist and slowly up her side until his knuckles lightly caressed the top of her breast.
Gasping, Audrey’s knees gave out as his tongue swirled over the sensitive skin where his hand had just been. Her hips thrust forward while another unbelievable wave of euphoria swept over her. How could a girl withstand so many sensations at once? When she felt his hardness against her abdomen, Audrey had no misgivings.
The part that frightened her most?
She wasn’t frightened.
She wanted him to rub against her. She wanted his mouth on the tops of her breasts and his fingers kneading her through the heavy damask of her gown.
Audrey didn’t open her eyes until something hard hit the back of her head.
Chapter Twenty
For the love of everything holy, fierce desire clamped Reid by the balls and sent his mind into a maelstrom of lust. Jesus Christ, the tiny sighs and moans whispering from Audrey’s throat were enough to bring any man to his knees. Reid had bedded his share of women, but none so lithe and incredibly virile as the lass in his arms.
Och, how her laughter had set his heart to soaring. If only they could have twirled across the floor eternally so that he could listen to her laugh. Such unabashed and happy emotion had ensnared him, had captured his heart and taken over his mind. He should never have gathered her in his arms. And by the time he realized his folly it was too late.
She’d caught him. And he wasn’t free to be caught.
And then he’d lowered his gaze to her lips. Sweet, moist, red lips that begged to be kissed, that pleaded and beckoned his head to lower. Heaven help the burst of fire spreading through his loins. In two ticks of the clock his hands grew a mind of their own while he kissed her. Showed her exactly what he wanted and how much he wanted it. His fingers kneaded, discovering every inch of her long, slender back until he finally found soft, feminine buttocks.
God, save me.
Not one logical thought filled his head while he backed her to the wall. He needed more. More kissing. More touching. More Audrey.
She flinched and gasped when her head rapped the wall.
Reid did, too.
For a moment their gazes locked. Staring. A hunger so fierce swirled low in his gut. Her tongue slipped over her bottom lip as she looked away while color flooded her cheeks.
Reid’s throat thickened. What in God’s name was he doing? There he stood wanting the lass as if she were an alehouse tart. Audrey wasn’t a woman to be used. She was a jewel, a princess. The lass was a delicate flower, a woman on the precipice of adulthood who knew nothing of men and their goddamned wiles.
For the love of life, he would kill any man who attempted to take advantage of her as he was doing now with one hand groping her arse and the other cradling the most delicious breast he’d ever had the pleasure of cupping in his palm.
He blinked, sliding his fingers to her neck.