by Regina Darcy
Lord Eanverness’s eyes narrowed when he heard the name. “Miss Drew, you will scarcely countenance it, but wretch though I am, if I had a daughter I would not sanction a marriage to a man of Lord Walsingham’s character. He is a drunkard. He cannot keep servants because of his ill treatment. He is riddled with debts. No, you shall not marry him,” he said decisively. “I will, as you ask, send you to your family in Bath, although as they do not know you are in England, some intercessory activity may be necessary. But we can figure that out. In the meantime, would you consider going riding with me? I realise that you have no reason to trust me, but it’s my custom to ride in the morning and I would like you to accompany me. If you are at all doubtful as to my intentions, we can bring one of the household staff along.”
“I should like to go riding with you,” she said, her eyes shining.
NINE
Lord Eanverness sent word to the stables that he would be going riding and that he would be accompanied by a lady. Georgiana protested that she knew how to ride, but the Duke gave her a quelling glance. “Perhaps you do, but you aren’t wearing a riding habit and if you’ve only just returned from a school in Florence, I shudder to think what you regard as riding.”
“I ride very well!” Georgiana protested.
Lord Eanverness took her arm as they headed toward the stables. “If you ride a horse as well as you play the piano,” he said, “I’ll forego my hesitation.”
She smiled at him, a mixture of innocence and flirtation, although she didn’t realise it, transforming her into a beguiling coquette. The Duke, who thought himself immune to all manner of feminine wiles, wondered if he had succumbed to the one remaining weapon of a woman that he had never considered: purity. She was, he could tell, entirely without artifice.
“I have had more practice at the piano,” she said diplomatically.
He laughed out loud. “Minx,” he said fondly.
The horses were tethered outside the stable, but there was no one in sight. The Duke sighed. “God knows where they’ve run off to,” he said. “Put your foot in my hand; I’ll help you.”
She slid easily into the saddle. The Duke gave her horse a critical appraisal. “I’d have given you a mount with a bit less spirit,” he said. “We’ll go easy for a bit until she’s got the measure of you. Don’t let her have her head; she’s a fine mare, but she’s independent. There’s no telling what mischief she might get into.” He looked at Georgiana with a bemused expression. “She is, I suspect, rather like her rider.”
“I don’t get into mischief!” Georgiana declared.
The Duke mounted his horse. “How can you say that you don’t get into mischief? You run away from home—”
“To avoid a marriage to a man you yourself say is debauched.”
“—you find yourself in the company of harlots—”
“They said they needed a pianist!”
“—you lead me to believe that you are playing your own game in the matter of amorous activity—”
“—I was in the library and you sought me.”
“—You do me the singular humiliation of sending me from your bed—”
“You entered my room without knocking.”
“And then you make me fall in love with you,” he finished. Georgiana felt the blood rush out of her face. She stared at the Duke with an open mouth.
“What’s this?” he inquired when she said nothing. “No flippant rejoinder? No quip? No stout-hearted defence of your virtue?”
“Is that a ploy?” she asked hesitantly. “What you just said?”
“That I’ve fallen in love with you? What sort of heartless woman are you, to throw such doubt on my earnest declaration.”
“You may not have realised it,” she said, “but I am not experienced in the ways of men and women.”
“Something of that thought had crossed my mind,” he replied wryly.
The horses had begun to slowly move as their riders continued to talk. Lord Eanverness pulled very lightly on the reins and steered the horse away from the castle, Georgiana’s horse following.
“I am not experienced,” she repeated. “So if you were to say what you just said now, merely because you thought that it would be more effective at arranging an assignation than your previous attempt, I have no way of knowing if I am being made a fool of.”
“Georgiana,” he said, his voice tender, “I have no intention of making a fool of you. I cannot expect you to understand how I feel. I don’t understand it myself. But until I met you, my life as a man has consisted of an endless sequence of deeds which I now cringe to think of. You have seen me at my lascivious, calculating, dissolute worse. Can you believe me when I say that I want you to see me at my best, and that I want to be a man worthy of your innocence?”
“Do you truly, truly mean it?” she asked him, her eyes wide and questioning.
“I do,” he said.
“And you promise that you will be a man of honour, a man of whom to be proud, a man who will abstain from such vulgar pastimes as those which took place last night?”
“With the right woman to distract me from my sinful ways,” he said, his lips widening into a grin. “It’s all on you, my love. If I am to become a man of virtue, I must have a rescuing angel to fight Lucifer when he tempts me.”
Her expression was so serious that he wondered if he had overplayed his hand, and squandered her trust.
She sighed. “I don’t know, my lord. It’s a gamble, to be sure.”
There was a glint in the Duke’s dark eyes which hinted at a recollection of the very temptation he was forswearing.
“I’m accounted rather lucky at gambling,” he told her.
“Perhaps you would like to try your luck?”
She smiled at him. “Perhaps I would.”
He leaned toward her, maintaining his grip on the reins and bringing his horse to a halt. “Seal with a kiss?”
“I dreamed that I was being kissed last night,” she recalled, heat colouring her cheeks.
“Did you?” he asked, inching ever closer to her. She swayed slightly toward him.
“I did. It was a very pleasing dream, to be sure.”
“Was it?”
“It made me wonder if anything in real life could possibly measure up to that kiss,” she admitted, her eyes downcast.
“Why not find out?” he suggested, tilting his body so that he was halfway out of the saddle, and close enough, if she leaned slightly his way, to provide her with the opportunity to test the remembrance of that night-time kiss against a second one in daylight.
“Catch me and see!” she called out, digging her heels into her horse’s sides and started galloping away from him.
Lord Eanverness, despite himself, burst into laughter. He prodded his horse to follow, and the stallion did his bidding, quickly building into a rate of speed that appeared to have the power to catch Georgiana on her fleet mare. But then, suddenly, the horse continued on its path but the Duke did not. Turning in her saddle to taunt him, Georgiana was aghast to see the horse riding her way as the Duke and his saddle tumbled to the green grass beneath them.
Quickly she raced back.
“My lord!” she cried out. “Are you hurt?”
Lord Eanverness was sprawled on the ground, his arms spread out, and the saddle in a heap across from him. His eyes were closed.
“Dear . . . my lord, please don’t be dead,” she begged as she dismounted. She rushed to his side and fell to her knees. She took his wrist in her hand. “You aren’t dead!” she exclaimed with relief. “You have a pulse.”
“I do,” said Lord Eanverness, his eyes still closed. “I’m very glad to hear that.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I fancy I’ll be able to walk to the altar by the time we’ve announced our wedding date,” he said.
“Your Grace, this is no time for a jest.”
“I agree.”
“Can you not open your eyes? Why are they closed?”
“T
his is why.”
His arm came up around her and pulled her close. She eagerly gave him the kiss that he sought, her eagerness compensating for a decided absence of experience and technique. He, on the other hand, had no such drawbacks, and between the two of them, they found the kiss to be entirely satisfactory.
Abruptly, Georgiana pulled away. She took big gulps of air, trying to regain her breath. Embarrassed she lowered her eyes. “Your saddle!” she gasped suddenly. “How did it come loose?”
“I suppose the nitwit of a stable lad failed to—”
But Georgiana was already on her feet. “Look! The leather has been cut!”
Lord Eanverness rose, admittedly more gingerly than was his want. He bent down to examine the saddle.
“What the—”
“I told you!” Georgiana reminded him. “I told you that I heard a plot to kill you. This is proof.”
Lord Eanverness examined the saddle. There was no doubt that the girth had been deliberately cut with a knife. His expression was grim.
“It would seem that you were correct,” he said. “I somehow have acquired an enemy. We’ll go back to the stables and talk to the stable hands. One of them may have heard something.”
“I could have been the reason you were killed,” Georgiana realised. “It’s because I made my horse gallop away that you fell off your horse.”
“Please,” he said with a pained expression. “I beg of you, Georgiana. You must tell no one that I fell from my horse.”
“Why ever not, my lord? You did fall.”
“Think of my reputation,” he murmured as his horse trotted back to him. “First, felled by the love of a maiden. Then unseated by a saddle. I shall have the devil of a time trying to regain my former stature.”
“Your former stature, my lord, is the very thing you do not want to regain!” Georgiana replied tartly.
Lord Eanverness helped her onto her horse before mounting his own.
“Can you ride bareback?” she asked.
“I can do many things,” he replied. “You are going to marry a man of many talents, did you not know?”
“You have not proposed, my lord and I have not accepted,” Georgiana replied with a smile.
“Nor will I, until you stop calling me ‘my lord’ and begin to call me William.”
“William,” she repeated. “Shall I call you ‘Little Lord Willie’ like the song?”
“You shall not,” he replied. “And after we are wed, I shall explain why.”
TEN
Lord Eanverness was an expert horsemen, controlling his horse even without a saddle. They rode at an easy pace, although Georgiana was anxious to get to the stable so that the mystery of who was plotting against the Duke could be solved. He seemed unconcerned about the matter, and chatted casually as they rode. He found out more about her family and agreed that they would need to make contact with her Drew relatives as soon as possible.
“Under the circumstances, I can hardly ask your stepfather for your hand if he has already promised you and your inheritance to another man. I, on the other hand, may have a vile reputation, but I cannot be accused of being a fortune hunter.”
“Do you have your own fortune?” she asked.
“I do,” he said, sounding amused by her ingenuous question.
“I don’t know my relatives. I don’t know if they’ll accept you.” What am I saying?
“Oh, they’ll accept me,” he said with assurance.
“How can you be so certain? You said yourself that your reputation is not of the finest.”
Lord Eanverness took her hand and kissed her fingers. His control over his mount was so strong that they were able to continue to ride, hand in hand, until they reached the estate grounds.
“Because, my dear,” he said, “you have just spent a day and a night under my roof, without a chaperone. They will be relieved to accept my offer to make an honest woman of you.”
“Do you mean that I am compromised?” Georgiana asked with a worry wrinkle. Her quest for an adventure had never included the ruination of her character.
“You are.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I suppose we shall need to marry as soon as possible.”
“I believe so.”
They approached the stables. Lord Eanverness dismounted from his horse but told her to stay on hers. “I don’t expect anything untoward,” he said, “but if things should turn ugly, I order you to ride away as fast as you can and procure assistance.”
Georgiana slid down from her horse. “I am not a coward. I will not leave you.”
“Georgiana—”
“I am not your wife and you cannot order me about.”
“I doubt very much if I shall be successful in ordering you about even when you are my wife,” he muttered. “Very well, then, but stand behind me. Listen closely to the sound of their voices when the stable hands speak, and consider which of the voices you heard last night.”
She would not walk behind him, but compromised by walking beside him. Lord Eanverness sighed. “You’re a wilful girl and I begin to have sympathy for your stepfather.”
He stepped into the stable before she could counter with a retort to his remark. She could see the stable hands clustered around the stalls.
“Gentlemen,” called out Lord Eanverness. “I would like to have a word with each of you. Please come up and introduce yourselves to the future Duchess of Eanverness.”
It was a plausible ploy, Georgiana thought. She stood with a girlish dignity as each of the lads came up to her. One of the young men with a sullen expression on his face gave her a curt nod.
“James Darby, ma’am.”
“Hello, James. Have we met before?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I think we have,” she said.
The introductions continued. When she recognised the second voice that she had heard the night before, she repeated her query, and again the young man, this one a belligerent-visaged youth, denied that he had met her.
“All right,” Lord Eanverness said when the introductions had ended. “James and Harris, you stay. The rest of you may go.”
The young men looked uneasily at each other. “What you want with us, Sir?” asked James.
“I wish to know which of you tampered with my saddle,” Lord Eanverness said casually as if the topic were something he would normally have asked in the course of a typical transaction with his stable staff.
“Not me,” James declared.
“Nor me,” Harris added.
“Really? Then why did I fall off my horse?”
“No idea, milord.”
“I think you do have an idea, and if you don’t answer me, I’ll send for the magistrate and he’ll be much less tolerant than I am. Attempted murder is frowned upon, you know.”
“’Twasn’t attempted murder!” declared Harris.
“Then what was it?”
“Teachin’ you a lesson.”
“In equestrian skills?” Lord Eanverness inquired congenially. “Or in acrobatics? I suggest that you tell me why you did it or I shall resort to much less civilised methods of obtaining the information that I need. You attempted to kill me. Why?”
“You ruined my sister!” James burst out.
Georgiana held her breath. Lord Eanverness had admitted that he had been a libertine. Had he trifled with the virtue of a stable hand’s sister?
“Who is your sister?”
“Lucy Darby, as you should know.”
“There is no Lucy Darby in my employ, I know that.”
“She’s a maid for Lord Carstairs. Leastways she was until they discovered she was in the family way and they sacked her. She told me what you done.”
“I wish she had told me,” Lord Eanverness said in a leisurely tone. “I must have extraordinary skills of seduction if I can impregnate a girl who lives ten miles away.”
“She said that you were calling on Lord Carstairs and you saw ‘er and had your way with ‘er.”
“Did she, indeed?” Lord Eanverness examined his cuffs, which had suffered from the grass and dirt upon which he had fallen. “Go home to your sister and bring her to the castle. We shall find out then if I am the culprit who forced your sister.”
“You trust me to come back?” James asked uncertainly.
“Should I not trust you?”
“I’ll be back.”
“Yes, you will. Harris, you will not leave. One is sufficient for this errand; two might be tempted to flee. Stay in the stables. If you are gone, I’ll set the hounds after you.”
“Would you really do that?” Georgiana asked as they walked away from the stables.
“Set the hound upon him? No, I would not, but he doesn’t know that. A formidable reputation is rather an advantage.”
“You truly did not have an assignation with his sister?”
They were at the front door of the castle. “My dear Georgiana,” Lord Eanverness said, “I do not force myself upon women.”
“What if she was willing?” Georgiana asked tremulously.
She felt the Duke’s firm fingers lifting up her chin. “My dear Georgiana, I am all that I have said and more. But I am not a debaucher of innocent girls. You should know that.”
He had not forced her when he realised that he was in her bed in error. She believed him.
“I do,” she said as they entered the door which Rivensley had opened. “But if my family takes objection to you, I may tell them that you forced me.”
“Dear God!”
“It would be very persuasive,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“It would also be a crime.”
“They would not prosecute. That would entirely ruin me.”
Despite himself, he began to laugh. “Georgiana Drew, you have entirely turned my life upside down. Let’s bid good-bye to the ladies and then await the return of James and his sister. I haven’t had an agenda this crowded since my coming of age party.”
The ladies, however, had already left, the stagecoach having arrived early. The gentlemen who had taken part in the previous night’s antics had left as well, when they learned that their host was away.