The Runaway Heiress

by Brenda Hiatt

  She heard a clock downstairs chiming one as she headed down the west wing corridor for the second time that night. Really, dancing had been exercise enough for tonight, she decided, turning the handle to her chamber. All she really wanted was her bed.

  "What the devil—?"

  The voice came from so close beside her that she nearly cried aloud. As it was, a little squeak escaped her as she whirled, her heart in her throat, to face Thor in the dimly lit hallway.

  "You . . . you startled me," she managed, once she'd caught her breath. No, she definitely didn't need any calisthenics tonight.

  "Obviously." His voice was cooler than she remembered. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me where you've been? I thought you went to bed some time ago."

  "I did. That is, I meant to. I . . . I needed to get something from downstairs." Only as the words left her mouth did it occur to her that she had nothing with her that she could claim to have fetched.

  He seemed to loom over her, though in fact he was almost three feet away. "And that necessitated you changing into something . . . nondescript?"

  The suspicion in his voice startled her. "I didn't want to go down in my nightrail," she said, still casting about for a plausible story to explain her trip downstairs.

  "And you don't own a wrapper?" His words fairly dripped sarcasm.

  With a mental shrug, she decided she might as well tell him the truth, as he seemed angry with her already. "Actually, I was going to the gymnasium, but . . . changed my mind." She couldn't quite bring herself to admit she'd turned coward upon hearing his footsteps.

  "The gymnasium?" If anything, he sounded more skeptical than before. "At one o'clock in the morning? Perhaps you planned to take a dip in the pool afterward, as well?"

  "No, of course not. That would take too long. I simply intended to exercise on the bars for half an hour or so, then come up to bed. But once I got downstairs, I decided I was too tired." That deviated only slightly from the truth.

  He stared at her in silence for a long moment, as though weighing her words. "Do you often go down to the gymnasium after the rest of the house is abed?"

  "Not . . . often." Would he forbid her to do so again? She had already come to look forward to her late-night exercise sessions.

  "Then perhaps you can tell me— No, never mind. It is late. We can discuss this further in the morning. Good night, Dina." He turned on his heel and disappeared into his room, leaving her almost as startled as when he'd appeared.

  His anger had seemed all out of proportion to her admission. Surely he couldn't really think she had been downstairs for any nefarious purpose? What evil could she have accomplished in less than half an hour? Her brain was too fogged with weariness to puzzle it out just then, so she entered her own chamber and this time made no protest when Francine picked up her nightclothes.

  Thor paced his room, cursing himself for his cowardice. Why had he not demanded the truth there and then, after Dina's ridiculous explanation for her late-night foray? Because he'd been afraid of the answer, of course. The very fact that she'd so clearly lied to him must mean she'd been up to something, and what that something might be now tormented him.

  In vain he tried to tell himself that she'd had no time to get into any real mischief. Even if her original intent had been to meet with one of her gallants from this evening's assembly —he recalled her look of alarm at Violet's teasing —she must not have actually done so. Perhaps the man in question had not come, his ardor cooled by Thor's own return home. He smiled grimly at the thought.

  No, it was as well he hadn't pursued the matter just now, given the late hour and his current state of mind. He would doubtless have said or done something regrettable. Now, though, Dina would have all night to concoct a plausible explanation for her behavior and he already knew how convincing she could be when she put her mind to it. Was not their marriage proof of that?

  He continued to pace for a few minutes, trying to anticipate what she might say in her defense and to frame his responses, but then he stopped and shook his head. If he was to think clearly in the morning, he needed to get to bed, but just now he was in no mood for sleep.

  Inspired by Dina's absurd alibi, he changed into pantaloons and a comfortable linen shirt, set a candle in a holder, and headed down to the gymnasium himself.

  Holding the candle high a few moments later, he observed the large room with a sense of nostalgia. For years, he had been in the habit of exercising there for an hour or two every day. Now, however, it had been nearly two years since he'd so much as visited it. Some calisthenics and a vigorous session with the boxing bag would be just the thing to work off his anger and calm both mind and body enough for sleep.

  Removing his shoes, he moved to the first piece of equipment, refusing to examine why he was so angry, or what role frustration might play in that anger.

  Chapter Twelve

  On returning home in triumph with an enormous Yule log early the next morning, Thor congratulated himself again on his decision to visit the gymnasium the night before. Not only had he slept well as a result, but his mind was far clearer than it had been last night.

  That was fortunate, for it had allowed him to formulate a plan to ferret out the truth about Dina's activities last night, while he and most of the male servants hauled back the biggest fallen trunk they could find on the estate lands.

  His mother greeted them with delight, exclaiming over the size of the log, the largest in recent memory. "What a lovely addition that will be to tonight's ball. Everyone will see it blazing here in the hall before they go up to the ballroom."

  Thor helped the servants to place the log in the enormous fireplace in the great hall, then his mother ushered him into the dining room, where the rest of the family was still at breakfast. Dina glanced up at his entrance with a tentative smile, but he could not bring himself to return it.

  She looked more beautiful than ever in her fresh morning gown, but that only caused all of his suspicions from the night before to return in full force. He had nearly convinced himself that she would have some innocent explanation for creeping about the house in the dead of night, but now . . .

  Silently, he filled a plate from the sideboard and contemplated his plan as he ate. The first step, of course, was to force Dina to admit that she had lied about her whereabouts and intentions, but that should be dead easy—and he knew just how to do it.

  "Would you care to join me in the gymnasium?" he asked her softly as they all left the dining room half an hour later. "I thought you might show me which pieces of equipment you favor."

  Dina looked startled —not surprising, as so far today they had exchanged no words at all— but she did not demur, as he expected her to.

  "I suppose so. Shall I change first, or is to be a mere matter of pointing and talking?"

  Now it was his turn to be surprised. "Er, yes, now you mention it. Why do you not put on the same thing you wore for your intended visit there last night?"

  Surely that would elicit a reaction of some sort, he thought. However, instead of showing the alarm or confusion natural to a woman hiding a lover from her husband, she merely nodded.

  "Very well. Will you change as well, or do you mean only to observe?"

  "Observe?" The very thought of watching Dina cavort in the gymnasium brought him instantly erect —not that she would actually be able to use the equipment, of course. Still, he was glad of the interruption when his mother suggested they all go into the parlor to discuss the final preparations for the ball.

  "Not just now, Mother," he said. "Dina and I need to, ah, discuss somthing else."

  Lady Rumble beamed. "Of course, of course. You two run along upstairs, then." Her wink could be construed as a breach of the promise she'd made two weeks earlier, but he ignored it.

  Not until they were well out of earshot, starting down the west wing, did he answer Dina's earlier question. "I will change to appropriate attire as well. What say we meet at the top of the stairs in a quarter of an hour?"
>
  She agreed, and they repaired to their adjoining rooms. To distract himself from the barely-audible sounds of her dressing next door, Thor busied his mind with wondering just how far she meant to carry this charade. For it had to be a charade.

  Stripping off his warm woolen leggings, he again donned the breeches and shirt he'd worn to the gymnasium last night. Dina had never seen him in such informal clothing, even when he'd arrived in Scotland. Would she react to his changed appearance? Not that it mattered, of course. Still, he couldn't help noting in his glass that the open collar of his shirt showed a nicely tanned vee of chest.

  No. The point of this experiment was to prove that Dina was hiding something —though he devoutly hoped it wasn't a liaison with some other man. Still, until he knew, he should discourage any tender feelings toward her.

  A few minutes later, he left his room to find her already waiting in the hallway, clad in the same gray skirt and bodice she'd worn the night before. Seen in daylight, he had to admit it was an improbable outfit for meeting a lover. It looked like a servant's workdress, but less stylish. Still, on her it somehow contrived to seem quite fetching.

  "Shall we go?" he suggested, determined to reserve further judgment until after they reached the gymnasium.

  The room looked quite different illuminated by winter daylight flooding through the high windows instead of by a single wavering candle. Forty feet long and twenty wide, the gymnasium housed horizontal metal bars on stands, rings suspended from the ceiling, two fencing dummies, a boxing bag affixed to one wall, and several sets of barbells and dumbbells. A locked cabinet in the corner contained fencing foils and sabres, along with the equipment for various outdoor sports such as archery and croquet.

  It was a man's room —so much so that he felt it slightly irreverent to bring the very feminine Dina in here at all. Really, she could not have hit upon a poorer alibi last night. Glancing around, the absurdity of it struck him afresh.

  "What did you have in mind to do here?" she asked when he had stood several moments in silence.

  He hid a grimace. "I was going to ask you the same thing. I'd like you to show me what you had planned to do last night. Before you, ah, changed your mind."

  Her green eyes narrowed with dawning comprehension. "I see. Very well. I generally begin my regimen with a few stretching exercises, to loosen up my muscles. My brother's fencing master used to say that was essential before any exercise to prevent injury."

  Thor blinked. "My own master said the same. Did you often listen in on your brother's lessons?"

  "As often as I could without Silas's knowledge. I also managed to speak privately with his master on occasion."

  Clearly she did know a bit about physical training, at least as it pertained to fencing. She wouldn't be able to bluff her way through actual exercises, however.

  "You were going to show me which of our paraphernalia you prefer to use," he reminded her.

  She looked as though she were about to say something, then changed her mind. "Of course," she murmured instead and moved to the center of the floor.

  As he watched in growing amazement, she spread her arms and twisted her torso from side to side, then bent over and touched her palms to the floor— something Thor was fairly certain he himself could not do. But women's bodies were more flexible than men's, weren't they? He thought he had read that somewhere.

  Swallowing, he wondered how it was that she managed to make such simple motions seem so erotic. No, it was simply his wayward mind —and body— doing that, he decided.

  After another minute or two of stretching exercises, some of which involved her actually sitting on the floor, Dina got up and fetched a wooden crate he had not noticed from a corner, then set it under one of the horizontal bars. The crate allowed tiny Dina to reach the bar, more than seven feet above the floor. Thor had to admit that the very presence of the crate here implied that she had done this at least once before. Perhaps his suspicion had been unfounded after all.

  Reaching up, Dina grasped the bar and in a smooth, controlled movement, pulled herself up until her chin reached the bar, then lowered herself, feet dangling. She repeated that exercise ten times, then dropped lightly back to the crate.

  "Did you not say you were going to join me?"

  Thor realized that his mouth had dropped open and belatedly closed it. He would never have believed that a woman, particularly a small, delicate woman like Dina, could do such a thing.

  "Er, yes. Of course." He moved toward the rings, telling himself that her size must make those pull-ups easier, not harder. Still, it was increasingly obvious that this was by no means her first visit to the gymnasium.

  Giving only the minimum attention necessary to his own indifferent performance on the rings —he had, after all, exercised less than twelve hours ago— Thor watched as Dina moved from one piece of equipment to another, using each one with practiced ease. Some of the exercises displayed her figure to advantage, even under that loose-fitting gray gown. He couldn't seem to keep his mind from imagining what the body underneath must look like.

  But that wasn't the point, he told himself firmly. He had put her to a test, and she had passed it. Finally, after a brief struggle with his pride, he walked over to the parallel bars, which she was just about to mount.

  "Dina, I owe you an apology."

  She raised her head, giving him a remarkably perceptive look. "Yes, I believe you do. Did you honestly think I was slipping away last night to meet some paramour? I'm sorry to think your opinion of me could be so low."

  Embarrassed that his suspicions had been so transparent, Thor cleared his throat. "I realize now how foolish I was. It's just that, well, we really don't know each other very well yet, do we? Pray forgive me."

  For a long moment she stared at him, tight-lipped, but then her expression softened. "Very well. You are forgiven. I'm sure my explanation did sound rather improbable, as I've taken pains to keep my activities here a secret."

  "Then my parents do not know you frequent this room? Nor Violet?" That explained the late-night visits.

  She shook her head. "Violet and I have used the swimming pool together on two occasions, but when I asked if she ever used the gymnasium, she seemed certain that Lady Rumble would not approve. I know I should have asked permission, but—"

  "But as a newcomer to the household, you didn't want to risk it," he concluded. "I suppose I can't blame you for that. Surely you would prefer to exercise during the daytime, however?"

  "Well, yes, but not at the price of your parents' opinion of me."

  He suddenly realized how callous it had been for him to leave her here as he had, with only Violet to call friend. What must she have thought of his sudden disappearance —and why hadn't he considered that before? He'd been so preoccupied with his own feelings —his feelings for Dina —that he'd given no real consideration to hers.

  "Again, I apologize," he said, trying to convey his sincerity with voice and expression. "I can't imagine that my parents would think any less of you for wishing to improve your health. Indeed, my grandfather was a famous sport and gymnastic enthusiast —it's why he added this room and the swimming pool to the house."

  "Yes, Violet mentioned that. But he was a man, which is rather different."

  Thor couldn't deny that. Had he himself not been extremely skeptical that a woman could use this equipment at all? But now he shrugged.

  "Different, yes, but not necessarily in a bad way. Tell me, how do you come to be so, ah, active? This is, as you say, an unusual pursuit for a female. Never tell me it was your brother's idea?" He couldn't imagine Silas Moore encouraging his sister in such a way.

  She laughed, confirming his assumption. "Certainly not, though I suppose you could say he was the original impetus for my decision to better myself physically. He was a bit . . . well, a bit of a bully when we were younger —as were some of his friends."

  Thor frowned. "He allowed his friends to bully you?"

  "Silas has always liked to show
off." Her cheeks had pinkened now, and not from her recent exercise. She stared past him at the knotted rope that hung from the ceiling. "He enjoyed demonstrating how easy it was for him to pinion both of my arms behind my back with only one of his hands. Then, he and his friends thought it great fun to perch me in the big oak tree and leave me for hours, or to shut me into cupboards, because I was so small."

  He couldn't imagine such a thing. While he had teased Violet as much as any brother might, he had always been extremely protective of her when it came to other boys. Nor had he ever physically bullied her. "Did your parents not intervene?"

  "The boys never actually hurt me, and I didn't wish to be a tale-bearer. Besides, I became quite adept at climbing down trees and escaping from cupboards —and at being extremely difficult to catch. In a sense, I suppose they did me a favor, as those experiences made me determined to become as quick and as strong as my stature and gender would allow."

  Still frowning, Thor motioned for her to follow him from the gymnasium. "That's a charitable way of looking at things, but I can't help thinking of the lot of them as cowards. What schools did your brother attend?"

  "Rugby and then Cambridge."

  "Ah. I was at Eton and Oxford." He was glad to know that the group of savages Dina described had not been associated with either, but now he itched to know just who they were. Doubtless he was acquainted with some of them, as the world of the ton was a small one.

  "So, in self-defense, you began studying calisthenics and gymnastics?" he prompted when she had walked beside him in silence for some minutes.

  "I also ran and swam when I could, learned as much of fencing and boxing as my Uncle Kendall would teach me, and listened in on Silas's lessons in those disciplines."

  "Boxing?" he echoed in disbelief. "I can't say that I've ever heard of a woman who boxed —and precious few who fence. Perhaps we'll spar sometime so that I can see what you've learned." He was joking, but the look she turned up to him was perfectly serious.