“You left out the part about picking the lock,” he said.
“If you continue to be impertinent,” said Lucy, “I shall send you to collect the plow without a wagon or horses and make you drag the thing back on your own.”
“It might be the faster option,” he said, his lips twitching at her continued struggle to coerce Athena into moving.
“Oh, do be quiet,” said Lucy crossly.
Lord Drayson laughed, and Lucy glared at him. The man could irritate her as no else had ever been able to do. He seemed to take great delight in teasing her, and why she continued to allow him to bait her, she couldn’t say.
“Stay there.” He directed Zeus over to her and chuckled when Lucy dropped the rope and skittered away.
“He is not going to eat you.” The earl used that commanding voice he often used which irritated her almost as much as his teasing.
“I know,” Lucy spoke without conviction. She watched the horse’s rather large mouth, thinking it could easily take a chunk out of her shoulder if he chose to give it a try. The closer the horse came, the more Lucy’s body trembled. Goodness, what was wrong with her?
Collins pulled Zeus’s head to the left, turning the animal until the earl’s leg brushed against Lucy. Her body still trembled, but not because of fear.
Lord Drayson leaned down and held out his hand. “Ride with me,” he said, his voice gentle. “I give you my word that nothing bad will happen to you.”
“But—”
“Lucy.” This time his use of her Christian name did not irritate her. The way he spoke it in a soft, hushed tone made it sound more like an endearment. It softened her heart and ignited it at the same time.
“Trust me,” he said, holding out his hand.
Lucy found that she did trust him, this man who gone from being an odious evictor to her friend in a matter of days. She trusted him enough to place her hand in his and allow him to swing her up on the horse in front of him as though she weighed nothing more than a kitten. Her legs dangled off to the side, and the horse felt uncomfortable beneath her, but as soon as the earl tucked her body tight against his, Lucy felt safe. Actually, she felt more than safe. A delightful sensation began in her chest and radiated through the rest of her body, warming her in a way that the sun or a blazing fire never could.
Lord Drayson maneuvered Zeus around so that he could retrieve Athena’s lead rope. Once he had it firmly in his hand all it took was a click of his tongue to get both horses moving slowly toward the outbuilding.
“I told you it helps to be on top.” Lord Drayson’s breath tickled Lucy’s neck, sending shivers down her back. Aside from her father, Lucy had never been this close to a man before, at least not like this. After the earl’s fall, she and Georgy had to wrap their arms around his chest to get him on the bed, but that had been different. Lord Drayson had been the despised enemy then. Now, however . . . well, Lucy wasn’t quite sure what to think anymore.
She no longer felt animosity toward him, except when he teased her, but even then it wasn’t true animosity. Lucy couldn’t deny that he continually surprised her, either. She had expected him to complain about all the chores, or at the very least, complete them in a sluggish, half-hearted manner. But Lord Drayson had cleaned the chimney flue, scoured the yellow salon, worked wonders in the stables and the yard, and had tackled every other job given him with alacrity. Now he was even willing to aid her in breaking into an outbuilding and plowing a new plot of ground for a vegetable garden. Her vegetable garden.
Not even the gardener would have agreed to such a scheme.
Lucy had once thought Lord Drayson cold and selfish, the type of person who couldn’t possibly be missed by anyone. But now she couldn’t help but wonder if someone was missing him and who that someone, or someones, might be. His family, certainly. Friends, possibly. Was there a woman in his life? Lucy’s entire body stiffened at the thought. Could the earl possibly be married or have an understanding with someone?
“Relax, Lucy,” the earl said and immediately muttered a curse under his breath. “Blast it all, I can’t seem to stop calling you that. It comes out so naturally. Why is that?”
“I do not know, Collins,” Lucy answered, speaking the truth. “Perhaps it is because you do not hold me in very high esteem.”
“On the contrary,” he answered. “I hold you in too high of esteem, which is likely my problem.”
He said it so casually, as though he was working through his thoughts aloud and didn’t mean for anyone else to hear them. But Lucy had heard his words loud and clear. They filled her soul and made her body stiffen even more. They caused her heart to race and her mind to whirl. With his arms around her waist, his solid chest against her back, and his breath on her neck, Lucy’s emotions had never been more muddled. She needed to slide off Zeus and put a stop to this. Wife or no wife, he should not be holding her this way, saying such things to her, or making her feel so . . . confused. Her plan had not included developing a partiality for one another. Such feelings would only cause additional complications when the truth finally came out.
“You’re tensing again,” said the earl in her ear. “You must learn to relax and ride with the horse, not against it.”
Lucy willed her body to relax, refocusing her thoughts on the movements of Zeus rather than the man seated behind her.
“That’s better,” he said. “Now take the reins.”
“Me?” Lucy gasped, shrinking against him. “Have you lost your senses?”
He chuckled, and she felt the reverberations down her spine. Lucy wanted to melt against him and leap from the animal at the same time. If only the ground wasn’t so far away.
“This animal is the most docile creature I have ever ridden,” he said. “You ought to take the reins and see for yourself.”
Lucy felt shaky and weak, though she wasn’t sure if it was the horse or Lord Drayson that caused it. Probably a combination of the two. Yet she found herself allowing the earl to thread the reins through her fingers and hold them captive beneath his.
“That’s it,” he said quietly, showing her how to guide the horse one way and then another. “That’s not so bad, is it?”
On the contrary. Lucy’s mind had never been filled with more upheaval. Everything about this was wrong, wrong, wrong. If Lord Drayson knew who he really was—who she was—he would not consider touching her this way, whispering in her ear, or holding her on any level of esteem.
When at last they reached the outbuilding, Lord Drayson gave her hand a squeeze and said, “Hold Zeus steady a moment.” Before Lucy realized what was happening, he had slid off the horse and had raised his hands with the intent to help her down. The top of the horse suddenly felt a great deal safer.
But Zeus took a step forward and Lucy panicked, lunging for the earl’s arms. He caught her with a laugh and held her tight against him for a moment before releasing her waist and holding her shoulders captive instead.
“So tell me,” he teased. “How does it feel to survive a barebacked horse ride?”
“It feels . . .” Lucy looked into his striking blue eyes and lost all coherent thought as feelings and emotions crashed and collided about inside her. Wonder, fear, confusion, desire, guilt . . . they were all there, skirmishing it out like a group of unruly farm boys.
“I couldn’t agree more,” said the earl quietly, as though Lucy had finished the sentence.
Ever so slowly, he ran the knuckles of his fingers along her cheekbone, igniting sensations Lucy had never felt before. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
With a gasp, she drew away from his touch, taking a quick step back. “What if you are married?” she blurted. “Or have an understanding with someone? Or . . . ?”
His jaw tensed, and his hand dropped to his side. “You think me the sort of man who would run away from a wife or fiancée? You did say I appeared on your doorstep like a coward, fleeing something in my past.”
“Yes,” Lucy murmured, for that is precisely what s
he had said even though it was not even close to the truth.
“I would never leave a loved one to fend for themselves,” said the earl firmly. “That, I know.”
“Of course not,” Lucy said, berating herself for devising such a wicked lie in the first place. This was exactly the reason impressionable young ladies should not read novels. They placed silly ideas in one’s head that would pop out at the most untimely moments. She should have told Lord Drayson the truth as soon as he’d opened his eyes.
“You are right to shrink away from me though,” he said with a sigh, raking his fingers through his wavy hair. “You do not know me and I do not know myself.” He paused, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. “There was a time when I was so certain you knew more about my past than you let on, but I don’t believe that anymore. You are not the sort of person who would intentionally deceive another. I know that now, and my sincerest apologies for ever thinking otherwise.”
Lucy had never felt the need to utter a curse more than now. In the skirmish of her emotions, guilt planted the others a solid facer and now stood triumphant, lording over the rest of them. Guilt, shame, remorse. What had she become? The earl had been right about one thing. He did hold her in too high of esteem. Lucy dreaded the day when she would come crashing down in his eyes.
She looked away from his handsome face, wishing she had the courage to blurt out the truth. Instead, she swallowed the words, needing time to think, to prepare, to figure out exactly how to tell him she was a worse person than he could imagine.
Why the devil had she ever broken her promise?
Lucy glanced up to see Lord Drayson watching her. Before he could verbalize his thoughts, her fingers fished the hairpin from her pocket, and she strode forward with purpose.
“Ready to learn how to pick a lock, Collins?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, Miss Beresford.”
Lucy hesitated only a moment before shoving the pin into the old and rusty lock. She wanted to tell him she was not deserving of any sort of respect and that he ought to call her Lucille, for that is the name her mother used whenever she found it necessary to bring Lucy to task.
How very sad that one could exert a great deal of effort over one’s entire life and climb so far only to tumble all the way back down in a matter of days.
Much to Collins’s satisfaction, he and Miss Beresford discovered not only a wagon in the outbuilding, but a plow as well. It was quite ancient. The wood was dry and brittle and the metal rusted, but it seemed solid enough to do the job, so Collins hefted it into the back of the wagon, hitched up both horses, and assisted Lucy onto the seat before jumping in next to her. His arm brushed against hers, and she quickly scooted away, leaving enough space for a small child to fit between them. It was a far cry from the cozy horseback ride they’d shared earlier, but it was probably for the best. Although Collins had assured Lucy that he would never leave anyone behind, he really had no idea what—or who—laid in his past.
Was he capable of running away from a family, or simply running from life in general? Collins prayed not. He craved the return of his memory, but there were moments, like now, when he couldn’t help but wonder if he might be better off not knowing the events that had brought him to this point. But life could not continue as it was forever. Like it or not, he needed to know.
With Lucy quiet and stiff at his side, they rode back to the dower house in relative silence, each lost to their own thoughts. Once they arrived, Lucy quickly made her excuses—something about helping with luncheon—and disappeared inside. Collins watched her go, berating himself for his earlier actions. Who was he to take liberties with the daughter of a respectable vicar? Lucy had been right to remind him of his place and keep him firmly in it.
With a sigh, he jumped from the wagon and squinted into the sun. It was now high overhead, promising more than enough daylight to plow the area and return the borrowed equipment to its rightful place before dark. If he hurried, perhaps there would also be enough time for that jaunt into town, so Lucy could purchase her seeds and Collins could track down the doctor.
Unfortunately, the work didn’t go as quickly as he had hoped. It took some time to learn how to use the plow effectively, and when he was finally beginning to make progress, Georgina brought him some freshly baked bread, along with ham, cheese, and a pitcher of ale. He gratefully took a break and enjoyed the food before returning to the rigorous work.
Hours later, Collins paused to rub his sore and blistered hands. As he did so, he spied Lucy walking quickly away from the house in the opposite direction from him. He pulled Zeus to a stop and watched her rapid movements. She was heading down the carriage path, presumably in the direction of town. He frowned and glanced at the sky. Was she so determined to purchase seeds that she would travel on foot at this late hour? He could think of no other reason for her hasty departure.
Collins worked quickly to unhitch Zeus from the plow and returned the worn horse to the stables. Then he hitched Athena to the small cart and jumped in, giving the reins a quick flip. Not ten minutes later, he turned from the carriage path onto the road in a very slow pursuit of Lucy. He could only hope he was traveling in the right direction.
“Come now, girl. I know you can do better this,” encouraged Collins, whipping the reins yet again. At the rate Athena meandered along, they would not overcome Lucy until her journey home from town.
After a bit more encouragement, Athena finally broke into a canter, though it was still several bends in the road later before he finally caught sight of Lucy. She certainly had a quick stride.
As Collins neared, Lucy glanced back once, then again before stopping and spinning around to await his approach.
“What are you doing?” she spluttered as he pulled the cart alongside her.
“Accompanying you to town,” he answered, holding his hand out to help her onto the seat beside him. She looked beautiful in a fresh pink day dress and a matching straw bonnet.
“I did not ask you to accompany me, Collins,” she said, refraining from taking his hand.
“You did not have to ask,” he said calmly. “I know my duty as coachman.”
“I would prefer that you do your duty as gardener and finish plowing the garden.”
“I am nearly finished, and Zeus was in need of a break.” Both of which were true. It would take Collins an hour at best to finish the plowing now that he knew what he was doing. “Had you bothered to come and have a look, you would have seen for yourself.”
She glanced behind at the road from whence they’d come. “But—”
“Surely you did not intend to walk to town unaccompanied at this hour,” said Collins. “What would your mother say?”
“She would give me a kiss and say, ‘hurry back,’ for I do it all the time. This part of the country is more lenient about silly proprieties.”
“Or perhaps it is the Beresfords who are lenient,” teased Collins.
Her beautiful brown eyes flashed at him in anger, reminding him of the conversation they’d shared when he’d first awoken, along with another distant memory that he couldn’t quite place. How many times had she been angry with him in the past?
Collins cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, Miss Beresford. It seems that I must call upon your forgiveness yet again. But if I may be so bold, would your mother really condone a trip to town this late in the afternoon? It will likely grow dark before your return.”
Lucy opened her mouth to argue before snapping it closed and looking away. When she finally spoke, it was to quietly say, “No, Collins, she would not. I suppose I should have waited until tomorrow.”
“So this part of the country is not as lax as all that,” said Collins with a hint of a smile. “Is not Georgina coming this way to visit her family soon? Why did you not beg a ride with her and . . . Mr. Crandall, was it?”
“They are not to go until after dinner, and the mercantile will be closed by then,” explained Lucy.
“Well then,” s
aid Collins, holding his hand out to her once again. “Might I offer you a ride, Miss Beresford, so that you may purchase your seeds and return home before the sun retires for the day?”
Still she hesitated, biting down on her lower lip. “The townspeople,” she said finally. “There might be talk.”
Collins lifted a brow. “A great many people employ a coachman, Miss Beresford.”
“Yes, but—” she quickly cut herself off. “Oh, never mind. I suppose it is a silly concern anyway. Yes, Collins. I shall be glad for the ride.” She accepted his hand only until she was up in the cart, then quickly let go, sitting as far from him as possible.
Collins whipped the reins and they were off, trotting toward town at a leisurely pace. This time he did not mind the slowness of the journey. He let the horse go as it pleased.
“Have you decided on which seed packets you will purchase?” Collins asked in an effort to make conversation. He’d missed Lucy’s company these past few hours and refused to spend what remained of the ride in silence.
“It will depend on what is available, I suppose,” said Lucy. “I am sure the owner of the mercantile will be able to offer suggestions.”
“I’m sure he will,” agreed Collins, and the conversation ended. Something told him that he had never been one for small talk. It felt much too trying and not at all his style. Perhaps silence was preferable, for he absolutely refused to comment on the weather.
“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” said Lucy. When Collins chuckled, she cocked her head at him. “What was so amusing in that?”
“I do not think small talk suits us very well, do you?”
She laughed softly. “Not at all. I’m quite dreadful at it, actually. You already know how fond I am of lovely days.”
“You did make that very clear this morning.”
She lapsed into silence. Another bend in the road later, she said, “You are very good with the ribbons. Who taught you how—” She immediately stopped and blushed. “How silly of me to ask a question you cannot answer.”
The Fall of Lord Drayson (Tanglewood Book 1) Page 9