Loving Lord Ash

by Sally MacKenzie

  Oh, dear. Percy might not have seen Roger before, but Huntington must have. He went to the local taverns and the cockfights where the gentry rubbed elbows with the local servants.

  Roger stepped into the silence her panic had created and bowed slightly. “Lord Trendal at your service, gentlemen.”

  His voice broke her paralysis. If Roger could be calm, so could she. And, thank God, Huntington seemed not to have recognized him. “Oh, please excuse me, Lord Trendal. May I present Sir Percy Headley and Mr. George Huntington?”

  Percy nodded at Roger, but then his attention returned to her. “I didn’t realize you had friends in London, Jess. How very . . . interesting. Does your husband know you are sauntering through the park with this fellow?”

  She opened her mouth to blister Percy’s damn ears, but Roger spoke before she could.

  “And do you know that your tone is insulting, sirrah?” His voice could cut glass. “You seem to be insinuating that Lady Ashton is doing something improper.”

  She was happy to see Percy turn a shade or two whiter.

  “No offense meant, of course. Jess is a childhood friend. I would hate to see her take a wrong step so soon after her arrival in Town.”

  Ha! Now there was a whisker if ever she’d heard one. “Don’t worry, Percy. I was out walking my dog with one of the Greycliffe footmen”—she nodded toward William—“when we encountered Lord Trendal quite by chance.”

  “I . . . see.”

  Ooh, she’d love to punch the slimy blackguard. His words were unexceptional, but his tone was not. She felt Roger bristle.

  “Lord Trendal.” Huntington looked as if he’d suddenly recognized the name—but still not the face, thank heavens. “I remember now. You’re the ‘Missing Baron’ everyone was talking about at the clubs last night.”

  Roger bowed again. “The ton does like to make a fuss about so many silly things, does it not? I’ve merely been traveling while my brother saw to the estate.”

  Percy waggled his brows. “One wonders where you encountered Jess.”

  Damnation. “I’ll thank you not to wonder—not to think—about me at all, Percy. What I do is none of your concern.”

  “And there is nothing to wonder about.” Roger sounded delightfully haughty. “I stopped by Blackweith Manor very briefly in my travels, of course.” He offered Jess his arm. “Now I believe Lady Ashton is ready to return to Greycliffe House.”

  “Yes, indeed. I’m suddenly not enjoying the park as much as I had been.”

  Roger gave her a warning look before nodding at the men. “If you’ll excuse us?”

  “Yes, of course.” Percy laughed. “Jess always was quite tetchy.”

  Oh, she’d show him tetchy. She’d get Fluff to charge the horses and—

  Roger put his hand over hers and squeezed warningly. “Shall we go?”

  “Yes.” She tugged on Fluff ’s lead. “Good day, gentlemen.”

  She and Roger—and Fluff and William—turned and headed back toward Greycliffe House.

  “Zeus,” she muttered so only Roger could hear. “Weren’t you afraid Huntington would recognize you?”

  “Not at all.” He smiled at William, who was still glowering at him, though not with quite the same ferocity. He must have approved of how Roger had handled Percy and Huntington. “I’m going to walk with Lady Ashton, William, to be certain she isn’t disturbed again.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  “I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

  “Don’t argue, Jess. You’re merely wasting your breath.”

  “Oh, very well.” They started up the hill, leaving William huffing behind them. She wasn’t finished with Roger anyway. “Why weren’t you afraid you’d be discovered?”

  “Because the nobility and gentry never actually look at servants; they look through them,” he said. “And they judge people by their clothing. I’m dressed as a lord, so of course that’s what I am. I’ll wager not a single member of the ton would believe you if you told them I’d been your footman.”

  “But aren’t you—” Jess stopped. She heard a dog barking up ahead. She couldn’t see it yet, but it was coming closer. Fluff woofed in response and pulled on his lead. Oh, dear. She did hope they weren’t in for a dog fight....

  No, thank goodness. It was Shakespeare. He appeared at the top of the rise with Kit.

  Kit did not look happy. He scowled at them as he strode down the hill, keeping pace with Shakespeare. His eyes slid past her to focus on Roger.

  Kit looked as though he was contemplating murder—if he didn’t suffer an apoplexy first.

  “Well,” Roger murmured, “perhaps there is one member of the ton who will recognize me.”

  Bloody hell! The naked footman was in London. He was tricked out in gentlemanly attire, but Ash would recognize those dark, cocky eyes anywhere.

  Cocky...

  His eyes dropped without his conscious bidding to the bounder’s fall. At least the damn reprobate’s male organ wasn’t advertising its enthusiasm for Jess—

  Unless it wasn’t announcing its presence because it had already enjoyed its sport?

  Zeus! He drew in a lungful of the chill spring air as he tried to beat back the red madness that threatened to overcome him. Think! They were in one of the most exposed sections of Hyde Park, and William was with them. They had a dog and a horse. They could not possibly have engaged in sexual congress.

  Could they?

  “Lord Ashton.” The blackguard bowed. “I don’t believe we were properly introduced when we met before. I am Lord Trendal.”

  Ash managed to nod in acknowledgment. Speech was still beyond his capabilities. He glanced at Jess. She looked worried, damn it. What had they been doing?

  He could ask William. William would tell him if they’d been . . .

  He took another deep breath. The scoundrel was still talking, looking damnably at ease, even smiling in a friendly sort of way.

  He’d show the bloody vermin friendly.

  “I just arrived in London the day before yesterday and was delighted—and surprised—to stumble upon your charming wife when I was out for my ride this morning.”

  Ash grunted, but it sounded even to his own ears more like a growl. Jess made a small sound of distress, and William straightened, ready to defend the Greycliffe honor, no doubt, even as he still held the miscreant’s horse. Even Shakespeare and Fluff stopped sniffing each other to look at him.

  The only one who seemed completely unaffected was Trendal.

  “I must tell you, however,” Trendal said, “that we just encountered two men who I feel very strongly do not have your wife’s best interests at heart.”

  “And you do?” The words were almost ripped from his throat.

  Trendal looked him straight in the eye and said calmly, “Yes, I do. Jess—Lady Ashton—and I have been friends for years. I care about her as a friend—as a sister, if you will.”

  Ash almost said something extremely crude, but managed to hold his tongue. There was something strangely convincing about Trendal’s words.

  “As your wife will explain to you later.”

  Jess frowned. “But, Roger—”

  “No, Jess. Lord Ashton needs to know about me and about Blackweith Manor.”

  What was this? Had the manor turned into a brothel, then? “What about the manor?”

  Jess and Trendal ignored him.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. It’s time. Things can’t remain as they are; everyone knows that.” Trendal laughed. “Or at least all the men who have any sense know it.”

  Good God, had Jess indeed slept with all the servants? Or was she running some odd sort of reverse whorehouse, where women paid men to perform? “What the hell are you two talking about?”

  He was shouting now, damn it. He’d made the dogs start whining. Their tails dropped between their legs.

  He took another deep breath, drawing the air in through his nose and letting it out through his mouth. “Pardo
n me. I should not have raised my voice.”

  “No, you should not have—”

  Trendal put his hand on Jess’s arm, stopping her. “Lady Ashton, your husband’s concern is completely understandable. Don’t let your temper get in the way of your good sense—or of what you truly want.”

  All right, so perhaps Trendal didn’t deserve to be beaten to a bloody pulp . . . yet.

  And what the hell did he mean, what Jess truly wanted?

  Jess glared at Trendal—she’d never taken well to being reined in—but then she swallowed her spleen and nodded.

  Trendal turned back to him. “Lord Ashton, now that you are here I can put Lady Ashton in your capable hands and be off about my business. But before I go, I must warn you about the men we encountered—Sir Percy and George Huntington.”

  “Percy.” He must have put a wealth of disgust into his voice, because Trendal nodded.

  Well, it was past time to settle the issue of Percy. Ash was very tired of that bounder trying to make mischief for him.

  “I know the man only by reputation,” Trendal said, “which is sadly quite black, but Huntington I’ve had the misfortune to see in action. He’s one of those unsavory fellows who likes nothing better than to whisper unfounded, reputation-ruining rumors to as many people as he can. He’s the perfect tool for an unscrupulous individual—in this case, Sir Percy—because he never considers whether something he’s been told is true. He just passes it along, taking great pleasure in seeming to be in the know.”

  Ash nodded. Perhaps Trendal had some redeeming qualities. “I’ve made Huntington’s acquaintance, and I must agree with your assessment. In fact, I promised him a thorough drubbing if he insulted my wife again. I shall be delighted to make good on that promise.”

  Jess reached out to grip his arm. “No, Kit.” Her brow was creased with worry. “I told you he’s reputed to be quite dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “I’m not going to challenge him to a duel, Jess. I’m just going to bloody his face and blacken his eyes.” He grinned. “And break his blasted nose.”

  She dug her fingers into his arm. “But didn’t you hear me? Huntington is supposed to be very handy with his fives.”

  “As am I.” He couldn’t decide if he was flattered or insulted that she was so concerned for his safety. He looked at Trendal—the man was laughing.

  “I told Jess you’d strip to advantage,” he said, “but she wouldn’t believe me. Apparently you weren’t much of a fighter when you were a boy.”

  Jess whipped her hand off Ash’s arm, her face suddenly flushed. “You know I used to have to defend you from Percy.”

  “You thought you had to defend me.”

  “What do you mean? I kept him from hitting you.”

  “Only when you pushed yourself between us. I will say that for Percy; he wouldn’t hit a girl. We settled things later, after you’d gone home.”

  Jess’s jaw dropped. She was staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.

  Trendal made a sound suspiciously like a snigger and took his reins back from William. “I’m off then.” He swung up onto his horse. “I’m sure our paths will cross at some blasted society affair.”

  “Yes,” Ash said. “I’m sure they will.” He looked from Jess to Trendal. He didn’t know what had been between them, but he was willing to accept that it hadn’t been physical, at least not recently. Which meant he had to accept that the naked footman had been only Jess’s model when he’d walked in on them at the manor.

  All right. He was an artist, too. He understood how drawing—or painting—turned the simple act of looking into an intellectual exercise. And that naked hug—

  That was rather harder to swallow, but it was true they hadn’t been kissing or . . . or engaged in any other amorous activity when he’d opened the door. And while Jess’s hair had been down, her clothes had all been in their proper places.

  Thank God.

  He bowed slightly to Trendal. “I appreciate you protecting my wife from insult this morning.”

  Jess bristled. “Don’t be ridiculous. Roger didn’t protect me from anything. I didn’t need protection.”

  Trendal inclined his head. “It was my pleasure.”

  “Are you both deaf?” Jess’s voice was thick with annoyance. “I said I didn’t need protection. I can protect myself. I’m not afraid of Percy or Huntington.”

  Trendal continued to ignore her. “And it was a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Ashton. May I suggest, since I fear Sir Percy and Huntington will spread tales that I was misbehaving with your wife, we appear to be on good terms when next we meet?”

  “Of course you should be on good terms. Nothing happened.” Jess frowned at Ash. “I’ve told my husband that you are only a friend, Roger.”

  Perhaps he was being a fool, but for some reason at the moment he believed her. “I can be cordial if you can, Trendal.”

  Trendal nodded. “And Jess?”

  “How nice you noticed I was still here.”

  The man grinned. “Be sure you do tell Lord Ashton about how things are at the manor.”

  Trendal rode off, but Ash didn’t bother watching him.

  “How things are at the manor?”

  “Er, yes.” Her eyes slid over to William, and she leaned closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “It’s a bit, ah, irregular. I’d rather only you heard the tale.”

  This was somewhat alarming, but at least she was willing to confide in him. And if she was going to admit to shocking behavior, it was indeed best William not hear it. He turned to the footman.

  “I’m going to walk with Lady Ashton, William. Could you take both Fluff and Shakespeare back to Greycliffe House?”

  William looked a little doubtful, but clearly he felt Ash should have things out with his wife. “I’ll do my best, my lord. Perhaps Shakespeare can show Fluff how to go on.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Listen.

  —Venus’s Love Notes

  Ash offered Jess his arm and led her off toward a less frequented section of the park. A breeze blew past, sending a loose strand of her hair across her face. She batted it away—and said nothing.

  What could be so shocking she couldn’t tell him within William’s hearing?

  He was back to thinking her a whore or a madam.

  No, he wasn’t. He’d been insanely angry about the naked footman, and yet that had turned out to be wasted emotion. He would wait to see what she had to say before he lost his temper.

  If she ever said anything. She did not look like she was going to speak anytime soon.

  They strolled along the path, completely alone except for the birds calling in the trees and a pair of squirrels chasing each other over the grass. Ash watched as one caught the other and mounted—

  Oh, damnation. He looked away. Well, it was spring. It was the time for mating....

  Hmm. If Jess had not had relations with Trendal, then she wasn’t increasing, which meant he could—

  No. Not yet. He had to hear her story first. Perhaps there was someone besides Trendal who’d visited her bed.

  “When you abandoned me at the manor, Dennis—Mr. Walker—took pity on me.”

  And he still had some rough patches to smooth over before he could hope for sexual congress with his wife.

  “I’m sorry, Jess. That was not well done of me. I should never have left you like that.”

  She waved away his apology. “It was a difficult time. I was at fault, too.”

  She certainly was. Zeus, he’d forgotten about Percy. There was no way he could have misconstrued that encounter, but at least it sounded as if Jess and Percy were no longer on familiar or even civil terms. Still, he’d keep an eye on Jess as they went about to see how she acted around the blackguard.

  And around other men. She was so beautiful with her black hair and violet eyes and alabaster skin, she’d likely have all the damn dandies buzzing around her, even though she was past the first blush of youth. Or perh
aps because she was—and was married and experienced.

  They’d best not think she was available for dalliance.

  “I was concerned that the household was completely male,” she was saying, “especially after what you thought happened with Percy—”

  “What I saw happen with Percy.”

  She shrugged, clearly unwilling to pursue that topic at the moment. “As I say, I was concerned, but Den—Mr. Walker assured me I was quite safe because . . .” She flushed.

  “Because . . . ?” Where the hell was she going with this?

  She stopped and turned to face him. “Kit, you must give me your word that you’ll keep what I’m going to tell you secret.”

  He didn’t have to do anything. “Why? Has Walker been doing something illegal?”

  “No—” She flushed and looked away. When she looked back, her expression had hardened. “No one is being hurt by what happens at the manor.”

  Good God, Walker was breaking the law. “I will not harbor criminals. I expect my employees to carry out their duties with honor.”

  “And Mr. Walker does. He’s very honorable. And kind.”

  What the hell could the man be doing? “Is Walker the only one involved?”

  “No.”

  She was not going to make this easy for him. “I suppose Trendal must be part of it, too, but is there anyone else?”

  “Yes.”

  Who else could . . . damn. Jess knew about it, and she was clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. “So you participated as well?”

  She turned bright red. “No! I couldn’t . . . I mean, that is the whole point . . . well, not precisely, but—” She broke off, crossed her arms, and glared at him. “This is ridiculous. Either you swear you will keep my confidence and do nothing to cause harm to Dennis, Roger, and the rest of the staff, or I shall not say another word.”

  “Zeus! The entire staff is involved?” This was what happened when you ignored a property as thoroughly as he’d ignored Blackweith Manor. As the damn proverb had it, When the cat’s away, the mice will play. He’d not only been away for eight bloody years, he’d made it exceedingly clear he was never again setting foot in the place. He shouldn’t be surprised the mice had set up their own kingdom. He was lucky the manor hadn’t become notorious.