Aubree had preached these words over and over without success in the past, but Harley sensed people had begun to listen to her. It was nonsense for a girl of seventeen to be down here among this rabble, utter heresy for a countess to do so, but they listened. She spoke with an authority that commanded attention.
“Won’t get me to work for no murderer. I’d rather starve,” Harley heard one man mutter.
“It’s her we’d be workin’ for, didn’t you hear?” another replied. “The earl’s gone off again and her pa’s a rich nabob.”
A third man snorted. “Her pa’d do better to buy her protection from that husband of her’n. And she just a poor mite of a thing.”
Harley felt a general stir of agreement along those lines, and a twitch of mischief caught at his thoughts. If the only way he could get Aubree off that box was to hire workers for the damned abbey, he would find her workers.
Nonchalantly, he answered the cynical gentleman’s assessment of the situation. “Seems to me the best thing a man could do is hire on and look after the lady’s interests as well as his own. I daresay the duke would be more than grateful to any man who protected his daughter. And at the same time, you’d feed your bellies. What more could a man want?”
He repeated this commentary in different words at every opportunity, until others began to repeat them for him. Before long, his casual remarks seemed to be the consensus of the crowd, and it needed only a slight impetus to push them forward.
Heath halted above the village and groaned at the melee below. How would he ever find trace of his wife in a crowd like that? There was no inn, no coach hire, no place he could start his questioning. But there was only one road toward London.
Fury settled into grim determination as he eased his horse down the rocky path toward the confusion below. The thoughts of what he would do to that lordly young pup when he caught him occupied his mind more than doubts as to whether he would catch them in time. He had no room for doubts.
As he edged his mount through a street thronged with fruit and vegetable carts, meat-pie and cider vendors, horse traders, and sideshow barkers, Heath discovered a small crowd gathering before Mrs. Croft’s tea room. Knowing this to be the village’s one claim to gentility, he found that an oddity. Local farmers did not generally crowd into tea rooms.
And then he caught sight of a bright-golden head raised up above the swarm of rough-garbed men and women, and his heart lodged in his throat.
Aubree looked up at a mounted gentleman winding his way through the jammed street, and her heart leaped with joy. He hadn’t left her!
She never considered Heath’s anger at her undignified speech-making.
The steely control of the muscles along her husband’s jaw warned all was not well, and his stiffly erect posture held all the authority and command his nobility and breeding required. He wore no hat, and he had abandoned the high collars of city dress, but his gleaming white cravat and tailored frock coat set him well above the country gentry. For the first time in over half a decade, the earl had come to town.
Silence fell on the small crowd in front of the tea shop, and a path widened before him. He maneuvered his horse between the townspeople and up to the box where his wife waited.
Aubree suffered a flicker of fear as she regarded Heath’s grim expression and she finally grew aware of the impropriety of her position, but she defied his anger with boldness. “My lord, you are returned!” She held up her arms for him to take her. “Did you find the physician for Michael?”
Instead of lifting her to the safety of his saddle, he swung down amid the rumble of the crowd. He was at her side in a single stride, his arm circling her waist and lifting her easily from her incongruous perch. “By Gad, little wench, I ought to throttle you,” he replied loudly enough for all to hear.
And before the crowd could gasp in shock, he pulled her against his chest.
In delight and relief, Aubree flung her arms around his neck, and before all the town, they greeted each other with the passionate response of lovers long separated.
Gasps turned to titters and murmurs of approval and outright laughter. Those who had moments before been eager to stand in the lady’s defense now wondered if it might not be more appropriate to offer a hand to the earl. The countess had played on their emotions, but the earl returned them to reality. Women belonged in the kitchen and bed, not on street corners. The men cheered lustily as the earl made his point.
The crowd surged forward, putting their pleas for employment to the man who had just ridden into their midst.
Keeping his hand about his wife’s waist, Heath looked out over the crowd with a sudden lifting of his heart. For the first time in seven years, they turned to him for guidance, instead of away in disgust. He knew the reason for this, of course, but he could not allow the brat to think she had the upper hand.
With a wicked grin, he announced to the waiting crowd, “Somebody has to look after her if the earldom is to have another heir. Any who wish to hire on in my employ need apply to me.”
Laughter and cheers drowned out Aubree’s embarrassed gasp of outrage.
Above the town, on the same hill Heath had occupied not minutes before, two riders watched the touching scene below with less than pleasure.
The older of the two turned to his fair-haired cousin with ill-concealed disgust. “You seem to have set your cap for a singularly fickle flirt, old boy.”
Geoffrey could not hide his dismay. He had been convinced only Aubree’s good breeding had kept her from acknowledging his pleas of devotion. This public display of affection certainly overturned that theory. A slow anger burned within him, and he replied more harshly than was his wont, “I thought you said the bastard sailed this morning. Is that his twin?”
“Or the devil, himself, straight from Hades. That’s the only explanation I can find. The bastard has more lives than a cat.”
Geoffrey shot his cousin an odd look. The livid scar streaking down one side of Harry’s face contorted as he glared at the loving couple below. Geoffrey stirred uneasily at the expression of hatred behind those narrowed eyes, but his own plight was too real to worry about that of others.
“My debtors will have me in Newgate if I go back to London, cuz. What in hell am I to do now? Is there any use trying after the Sotheby sisters? The younger one’s not so long in the tooth, and they say the old man is worth a fortune.”
The older man turned him a look that caused Geoffrey to pale. “You’ll leave the Sotheby’s alone. They’re mine. That one down there is yours. I’ll take care of the earl for you. It’s up to you to bed your countess. They’re all whores underneath. Once she tires of the games her husband teaches her, she’ll be ready enough for you. Play your hand right, boy, and we’ll both be wealthy men before year’s end.”
The thought of bedding a wealthy countess so excited Geoffrey that he paid no heed to his cousin’s implied threats. The Sotheby girls were mere peasants and more Harry’s style. He wanted to take London with Aubree on his arm, and in his bed. “Lead on, Macduff,” he brayed with a jaunty grin.
With orders for all petitioners to apply to his office at the abbey on the morrow, Heath disentangled himself and his wife from the mob and, with the help of Harley and Jamie, got her safely back on the road toward home.
“Harley, I could cheerfully wring your neck for allowing her to get away with this stunt,” Heath complained as they came to the crossroads between Atwood Abbey and Sotheby Manor.
The younger man threw Aubree an apologetic look and shrugged before Heath’s ire. “I’d heard you sailed this morning, or I would have warned you. I have no authority to rule her.”
“You sound just like Emery,” Aubree pouted. “Why does everyone feel it necessary to tell me what to do? My plan worked, didn’t it?”
Austin and Harley exchanged looks of exasperation. Reining his mount toward the road to his home, Harley made a parting gesture. “I’m damned glad you’re staying, Heath. I was seriously contemplating offe
ring my services to Wellington rather than ride guard on that one until you returned.”
With a wave, he rode off, leaving Heath to contemplate his young bride with a mixture of relief and frustration.
“Why, Aubree?” he demanded.
She gazed at him with wide-eyed innocence, belied by the mischievous smile of happiness on her lips. “Why, what, milord? Have I displeased you? Should we not be returning to the physician and Michael?”
“That is where I expected you to be when I returned home this noon. But you could not wait for me to be gone to be up to your mischief.”
Aubree set her mount toward home. “I had need to go before the market grew rowdy. Matilda had instructions for caring for Michael. I had no idea you would be returning with the physician.”
Heath rode beside her, uncertain how to chastise her behavior when his had been twice as reprehensible. How could he tell her he had read her letter and expected her to be halfway to London by now? How could he ask why she had not gone? He gave up the argument.
“We are both too inclined to act without thinking, I fear,” he mused aloud. “But you are young enough to learn better behavior.”
Aubree made a rude noise. “If I thought before I did everything, I would never do anything. If it is a prim-and-proper wife you want, look to Miss Sotheby. She is so proper she will not even look twice when a gentleman favors her with a glance. But do not expect such a wife to be happy with you when you go off sailing without a word to her, or return without warning and scare her half out of her wits.”
A grin twitched one corner of Austin’s mouth. “But I did not go off sailing, so there should be no need to warn of my return. You have been listening to gossips, I fear.”
Aubree’s ears grew crimson, but she did not retreat. “And what brought you riding into town as if you meant to tar and feather the population? Was your concern for Michael that great that you must chase after me to bring me home?”
She was much too sharp to fool, but he had no intention of admitting the error of his ways. “You will have to become accustomed to my presence. The ship sailed this morning, and I have nothing better to do than plague you.”
Aubree sent him a quick glance. She smiled contentedly. “An extra pair of strong arms is always useful,” she murmured.
And he had no choice but to grin in agreement.
The physician disdainfully wiped his hands on a lace-edged handkerchief and regarded his lordship with near contempt.
“The boy is scarcely worth the waste of my entire day. He still stinks of the cow pasture. There are important people dependent on my services, I’ll have you know. Next time one of your filthy tenants becomes ill, do me a favor and call the local apothecary.”
Aubree had been bent over the boy’s pallet when the doctor began speaking, but she was at Heath’s side before he finished, her delicate features flushed with fury.
“I will do everyone a favor and report you to the Royal College of Surgeons. In the meantime, I shall send for my father’s physician and ask for recommendations for someone more suitable to tend this area. I’ll not soil the air with the stink of quacks such as you, sir. Those given the gift to heal use it for all, not just for their own selfish purposes. I’ll nurse the boy, and someday I hope he becomes a great physician and you must come to him for healing!”
Aubree flew off as quickly as she had arrived, and Heath did not apologize for her behavior. Coldly, he handed the doctor a small purse. “My wife is hasty, but she is right. We’ll not need your services again, sir.”
After the doctor left in a huff, Heath returned to the pallet. “Is there any improvement?”
“I have been applying heat to his chest, and it seems to be a little clearer. The doctor suggested he would breathe easier in moist air. Do we dare trust him?” She threw him an uncertain look.
Heath felt his heart constrict at those wide hazel eyes brimming with worry. Her concern was evidence of the woman hidden behind the childish facade. In time, she would love her own children even more fiercely.
“I cannot see that it would hurt.” How long would he have to wait before fortune turned his way and he could claim her for his own?
At times like these, when they worked together, Heath thought she might accept him. Once, a decade ago, he might have had the confidence necessary to carry her off regardless of consequences, but experience had taught him caution. He would bide his time. She could not leave him yet.
John offered to look after the boy through the night, and after one last peek to make certain Michael’s breathing improved, Aubree returned wearily to her chambers. To her surprise, she found Heath waiting beside the fire.
He caught her expression with a wry grin. “You will regret that I did not sail with my ship. I grow restless already. Since I lack a billiard room, would you care to join me in a game of chess?”
She glanced toward the bathwater cooling in the corner of the room and back to the tall man lounging in his dressing gown before the fire. His curls were damp and plastered to his high forehead, and the faint aroma of his shaving soap wafted through the air. The look in his eyes decided her.
“It has been a while since I played, but I am willing to test your skills, sir. Where do you hide the set?”
Heath smiled in approval. “I will fetch it while you undress. Do you need any help with the fastenings?” he inquired.
Aubree’s hand flew to her drawstring neckline, and she shook her head, flustered. “No, I am fine. It is not necessary. . . I mean. . .”
He removed the ribbon from her hair, running his fingers through it until it fell loosely about her shoulders. “I am a fairly strong player, so I will give you a handicap. Bathe while we play, and I will be so distracted I cannot concentrate.”
Aubree giggled at this outrageous ploy. “That strikes me as highly improper, indeed, sir. And I cannot think it much of a handicap. Sacrifice two pawns and wait outside until I have changed.”
He grimaced. “You drive a hard bargain, milady. Agree to a forfeit should I win, and I will accept your terms.”
His midnight eyes penetrated her senses. The caress of his hand upon her hair alarmed her. But his kiss the prior night had been warm and full of the affection she craved, and she could not fear him now. Bravely, she lifted her hand to the brocaded robe above his heart. “The nature of the forfeit, sir?”
“A good-night kiss, no more,” he replied, though his eyes burned through the frail muslin of her gown to the woman beneath.
Aubree understood, in that moment, what it meant to be a woman desired by a man. Her stomach contracted and a burning flame flared into life. She had not known the sensation before and desired more of it, though she knew she played with fire. Austin had no more principles than she.
“A kiss, then, milord,” she answered, but her eyes spoke more.
He smiled, kissed her nose, and departed.
Aubree bathed, then donned a lace nightgown, and fastened her robe around it. She was very much aware of the lack of covering over her nakedness. Each step she took swung the robe to reveal bare ankles and limbs scarcely disguised in filmy lace. But she enjoyed the thought of teasing her husband with this display, and possibly distracting him into losing.
She met him at the door with a wicked gleam in her eye. Heath took in the display beneath the open front of her robe and growled. “Madam, I can tell right now you play dashed unfair. You’ll not find me such an easy mark in the future.”
He was not far off in his estimate. The heady scent of lilacs distracted him even when he closed his eyes to the beauty she displayed. If he opened his eyes, she made it a point to lean teasingly over the table to study the board. Heath groaned and bent his mind to the game, goaded on by the promise of winning his forfeit.
But when he finally held her king in check, every moment of suffering preceding it was worth it. He rose from the table and held out his hand. Aubree took it without protest, rising gracefully to stand before him.
He feasted on t
he splendor that was his until she lowered her lashes shyly, and a rosy hue flushed her skin.
“My lord, I forfeit a kiss, but no more,” she pleaded.
“There are many kinds of kisses, halfling, you would do well to learn them and be wary. Come here, and put your hands around my neck, and I will stare no longer.”
He guided her into his arms. The bracket of candles on the table flickered across her pale gown as she approached. And then he enveloped her in the circle of his arms and the room faded from view.
Aubree felt the heat of his neck beneath her palms as he pressed her closer, and her fingers wrapped in the thick, smooth curls of his hair. As he bent to kiss her, her breasts pressed against the hard musculature of his chest, and she was aware he wore no hampering shirt beneath the dressing gown. The warmth of his flesh seared hers at those points where they touched, and the rough hairs beneath the loosened neckline of his robe teased at her breasts.
She gasped as his hand slid below her waistline to press her hips next to his. When his lips touched hers, a rush of warmth invaded her body.
This kiss was like no other he had given her, and Aubree surrendered to the giddiness of it. Heath held her as if she were a part of his body and he sought to complete his possession. His mouth was hard and relentless, and she gave way beneath his insistence. Her lips parted and his tongue scorched its triumphant claim, branding her forever.
Melting beneath his demands, Aubree was scarcely aware at what point her robe parted, but as his hand caressed the flesh thus exposed, a shudder shook her from head to toe, and the flame of desire grew stronger. Strong fingers brushed aside useless lace and laid claim to a quivering peak. Aubree moaned and fought to escape this trap he laid for her.
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