“Heed the lady, Lord Lionhurst. You caught me unaware with that first punch, but that won’t happen again. Why the hell do you even care what transpires between me and my fiancée?”
“Because it’s clear to me you have no clue how to make a woman happy,” Alex answered.
“And you think you can make my fiancée happy?”
“I’m sure of it,” Alex replied, allowing his gaze to roam over Gillian’s face, her breasts and down lower to where he would dearly love to part her creamy thighs and plunge within. He tensed at the unexpected thought.
“You bloody sod,” Westonburt snarled before he barreled toward Alex and threw a punch. Alex ducked and stepped to the side.
“Tsk―tsk―tsk, Westonburt.” Alex wagged a finger. “Don’t you know I’m the reigning boxing champion at Gentleman Jackson’s five years running now?” Alex flashed a smile meant to irritate. “But if you really want to try me―” He began to remove his jacket, praying and hoping that Westonburt would take him up on the offer. Just as he got one arm out of his coat, a lone rider came bumping down the road, waving an arm in the air. Who the blazes was that? Alex squinted, trying to get a clear picture of the face, but the late afternoon sun made it hard to see his hand in front of his eyes.
“Oh, good!” a familiar voice called. Alex ground his teeth.
Lady Staunton flourished an arm draped in an absurd creation of purple bejeweled silk at them. Her ability to seek him out was amazing in a most unfortunate way.
Before he could ask what she was doing there, Gillian spoke. “Lady Staunton, how surprising to see you here.”
Alex jerked his gaze to Gillian. He’d already deduced she was clever, but her ability to make a general statement while filling her tone with disgust was brilliant.
“Your aunt invited me, and I could hardly refuse when I heard who would be in attendance.”
Alex longed to drag Lady Staunton off her horse and shake some sense into her. The woman was married. And even if she wasn’t, there would never be a future that involved the two of them again. “Where’s your husband?” he asked, giving her a pointed look.
“Not feeling well. I suppose he’s napping or something. He’s always ill.”
“Your compassion is astounding as usual.”
“You’re being cruel, and here I came looking especially for you.”
“During the middle of a hunt?” Gillian said. “How very odd.”
Alex had never known Lady Staunton to be embarrassed about anything in her life, but a blush stained her cheeks. He’d already developed a liking for Gillian, but anyone who could put Lady Staunton in her place had his utmost respect.
“Your aunt assured me the hunt should be concluding, and there are several games of whist going on in the card room. I simply had to find Lord Lionhurst. I must have a partner as my husband has begged off. No one will do but Lord Lionhurst.” She wrapped her possessive fingers around Alex’s arm. “We used to play all the time. Remember? Remember what fun we had and how good we were together?”
Alex brushed away her hand. “Your recollections are different than mine. I detest whist.”
“I’m unbeatable,” Westonburt said. “Maybe we can partner tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” Gillian repeated, the color leaving her face. “You’re staying for the house party, then?”
“Certainly,” Lord Westonburt replied, taking her arm and putting it through his. “Wherever you are, my pet, I’ll be.”
Her flinch made Alex want to toss Westonburt away from her. “I’m going home to rest,” Gillian said. “I feel a headache coming on.”
Alex really needed to teach her how to lie properly. As soon as he got her alone he’d give her a lesson.
“Shall I ride with you to introduce you to my aunt and secure your room?” she asked Westonburt.
“I thought I’d stay with you,” he replied.
Alex clenched his fists. He could only imagine what Westonburt was scheming.
Gillian shook her head. “Oh, no. That wouldn’t be proper, and Auntie would be offended as well. You are her invited guest, after all.”
Alex suppressed a chuckle at Gillian’s overt slight of Lord Westonburt, but his amusement died on his lips as his enemy led Gillian to her horse and hoisted her up.
Gillian smiled in Alex’s direction, but he could see by the lines between her brow that her smile was forced. “Until tomorrow,” she said with a wave.
He watched helplessly as Westonburt rode off with Gillian. It wasn’t until they were out of sight and Lady Staunton’s fingers touched his hand that he remembered the lady was even standing beside him.
“Alone at last,” she purred.
He flicked her hand off his and quickly mounted Braun. “Quit seeking me out,” he snapped and rode off before she could utter a word.
Gillian dressed with care the next morning. She wanted to keep Mr. Sutherland’s notice, but she could not afford to alert her father or Lord Westonburt to her game. She came into the breakfast room prepared to be lectured by her father, but found Whitney sitting alone at the long table.
“Where’s Father?”
A smiled tugged at Whitney’s lips. “Too much riding yesterday. He’s in bed with both feet propped to ease his gout.”
“How awful,” Gillian said, working to control her own giddy relief as she piled eggs on her plate. Sitting next to Whitney, she met her sister’s gaze and worked to control her smile. It was useless. They both burst out laughing.
“We should say a prayer for his quick recovery,” Whitney said between gales of laughter.
Gillian nodded and glanced up to the ceiling. “May he recover next week.”
“Amen,” Whitney added, taking a bite of her bacon. They both burst into a fit of laughter again. Once their noise died down, they ate in congenial silence, until Whitney set down her fork and said, “You still have Lord Westonburt to contend with.”
Gillian set her own fork down and studied her sister. “I’ve thought about that. I think I have just the answer.”
“What?”
“Auntie has two activities planned for today. I want you to make sure Lord Westonburt thinks I am going to tour the village with the other guests. Tell him I had to take care of Father, but that I will be joining all of you in the village.”
“But of course you won’t be.”
Gillian smiled. “Of course not. I have every intention of hunting with the men again. By the time Westonburt realizes I’m not coming, he certainly won’t be able to leave Auntie’s touring party without appearing completely rude.”
“That’s brilliant!”
“Thank you. Let’s just hope it works.”
An hour later, full of excitement for a chance to finally be alone with Mr. Sutherland, Gillian rode Lightning up to the group of men gathered at the stables and glanced around, puzzled. Her gaze drifted from Trent to her cousin Cameron and their friend Lord Dansby. Finally, she met Alex’s eyes, and her heart lurched a little. Anyone’s would, really, she assured herself.
An easy smile stretched his lips and his eyes bore into hers as if he wanted to know the secrets of her heart. He looks at all women that way, you ninny. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Where’s Mr. Sutherland?”
“Your aunt insisted he come with her on a tour of the village since he’d never seen it.”
She turned an accusing glare on Trent.
“I tried to talk her out of it,” he said.
Gillian gritted her teeth in outrage. She certainly couldn’t protest in front of Cameron and Lord Dansby.
“Do you wish to join the village party?” Alex asked gently. “You can probably still make it.”
It would do her absolutely no good to join Mr. Sutherland on a tour of the village since her betrothed would be touring the village as well. In fact, it could harm her. “No.” She shook her head. “I prefer to best the three of you in hunting.”
“That’s the spirit,” Alex said.
A few short minutes l
ater, the four of them were off racing through the wind and following the dogs once again. Alex quickly took the lead, but Gillian was determined to beat him.
She took an unused path to gain a lead and charged over some rocks. As she crossed the last rock, Lightning jerked to a halt with a loud neigh. Gillian cursed herself for her recklessness. She jumped off her horse and bent down to inspect the leg Lightning was bending.
Blast and damn. His shoe had come loose. She glanced around, listening. Not a sound but the normal ones of the woods greeted her. Now what? She couldn’t ride Lightning like this. The only choice was to walk back to her aunt’s and have someone take her to get Mr. Ganter so he could fix Lightning’s shoe.
With a sigh, she found a sturdy tree to tie Lightning to, and once the task was complete, she started walking back the way she had ridden moments before. Within twenty minutes, perspiration rolled down her back and beads of sweat dampened her scalp. Grumbling to herself, she pulled off her riding gloves, rolled up her sleeves and yanked off her jacket. That was better. At least she wouldn’t perish from the heat this way. At a noise rumbling in the air behind her, she whipped around, surprised and grateful to see Alex riding toward her.
Her stomach fluttered at the sight of him. With his black hair fanning away from his face and his powerful shoulders bunched over his horse in determination, he looked more like a dark god than a noble Englishman.
He pulled his horse up in front of her and jumped down. “What happened?”
“In my excitement to win the race, I got careless and rode Lightning where I shouldn’t have.”
“Over the rocks?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Did you do it too?”
He nodded. “I did. I was just luckier than you. I saw your horse. He’ll be fine. He just needs a new shoe.”
“I know.”
Now he looked surprised. “How do you know?”
“I checked. My stable master taught me long ago all about horses.”
“I’m impressed. Most women don’t know the first thing about horses.”
“I’m not most women, Alex.”
“I already know that, peach.”
Nothing he’d said was scandalous, but it was the way he said it. His tone held the promise of illicit actions. Heat unfurled in her belly and made her curl her toes. Her eyes wandered to his lips. What sort of forbidden things had he done with those lips?
His chuckle broke her musings, and she hurriedly drew her gaze farther up. Big mistake. His eyes burned into her, and she felt as if he undressed her layer by layer.
“It’s hot today, isn’t it?”
She nodded. There it was again. Something forbidden in his tone. Maybe she was imagining it. “Why did you call me peach?”
“Because your lips are full and pink like a ripe, juicy peach.”
Heat not only uncurled in her belly this time, it engulfed her entire body. She had never experienced desire, but she desired Alex. She was certain of it. She was also certain to act on it would be the greatest folly and act of selfishness. “You mustn’t call me peach.”
“I know. I won’t again. It slipped out.” He grinned like a mischievous child.
“Do you call all your women by nicknames?” Dear God, why had she asked that?
A hard look crossed his face. “I don’t have a harem of women, Gillian. I usually keep one mistress. I am loyal when I’m with her. And no, I never give any of them nicknames.”
For some inane reason, his admission pleased her. It was stupid really to be pleased. His words meant nothing for her. She was not special to him. She did not want to be special to him. “Can you take me to my stable?”
He nodded and without warning lifted her off the ground and swung her onto his horse. Within seconds he was settled in front of her, and they were galloping back toward her house. She had no choice but to wrap her arms around him or risk falling backward off his stallion. Heaven help her, but touching him sent an unwelcome thrill through her. He’d taken his jacket off, like her, because of the unusual heat, and the only thing separating her bare fingers from his bare skin was his shirt.
The muscles of his stomach rippled underneath her fingertips, and she found herself wondering what he would look like with his shirt off. No doubt breathtaking. She tried very hard to think on anything other than him, but it was hopeless. Nothing else held the appeal he did. His broad shoulders and powerful thighs fascinated her. How did a man who stood in line to become a duke become so fit? Most Englishmen were soft and not well developed. “Do you work at the shipping yard a lot?” she asked. She had to press close to his ear to ask him the question, and when she did she got a whiff of pine and leather. He smelled just as manly as he looked.
“How do you know about the shipping yard? My working there is supposed to be a secret.”
“Trent told me. He finds it admirable that you took the time to learn what the men you employ actually do.”
“I’m glad he doesn’t consider me a fool as most in the ton do.”
“Does it bother you that they look down upon you for owning a company?”
“No. Their opinion doesn’t concern me at all. But your cousin’s does. He is one of the few people I admire. He’s done exactly what he wanted with his life, regardless of what Society expected.”
“I admire him too,” Gillian admitted.
“Is your father about?” Alex asked as her house came in sight.
“Yes. So if you don’t mind, we’ll go straight to the stables and not the house.”
Alex swerved his horse to the right. “I don’t mind. I thought as much.”
As they approached the stables, Mr. Ganter appeared. “My lady, where is Lightning?”
“He’s got a loose shoe because of my carelessness. Can you come fix it?”
“Certainly, I’ll just get my tools. But I’m surprised at you. I taught you better, didn’t I?”
“You did. I’m sorry.”
“Yes. Well, don’t be telling me, tell Lightning.”
As Mr. Ganter disappeared into the stable, Alex turned in the saddle to look at her. “Your stable master is very familiar with you. Does he always dress you down?”
“Only when I need it,” she said. “He really is like a father to me.”
“Strange since your real father is alive.”
Mr. Ganter thankfully came out at that moment and saved her from having to explain herself to Alex. They returned to Lightning at an even quicker pace than they’d come, which prevented conversation with Alex. No doubt a good thing since the more time she spent with him, the more personal information she seemed to reveal. She didn’t want him asking too many questions.
Once Lightning’s shoe was fixed, they rode back quickly to her aunt’s house and parted ways with Mr. Ganter as they entered the courtyard.
Gillian was surprised to see her aunt pacing there. Auntie rushed toward them as they approached, sending dread ricocheting through Gillian.
“Stop the horse,” Gillian demanded, sliding off the steed the moment he stood still. She ran to her aunt. “What is it, Auntie?” Gillian asked, grabbing her aunt’s hands. Alex’s boots clopped to the ground as he dismounted. Then he stood behind her, a calming, reassuring presence.
“You need ask?”
“Is it Whitney?”
“Whitney? No. Your sister is being rowed in the boat by that American.”
“Mr. Sutherland,” Gillian supplied, fully aware that her aunt was not pleased with the idea of Gillian wedding Mr. Sutherland and moving so far away. But her aunt had seemed to settle to the idea when Gillian had refused to be swayed.
“Your betrothed is livid. We returned, as did the hunting party. But guess who was not here.”
“Me,” Gillian whispered, knowing exactly where her aunt was going.
“Yes. How clever you are, my niece. That wouldn’t have been so terrible except he”―Auntie cut her eyes at Alex―“was missing as well. And your dolt of a cousin told your betrothed that he”―she
cut her eyes at Alex again―“had raced into the woods to find you when you hadn’t shown up at the hounds and neither of you had come back.”
Gillian glanced at Alex. “You raced to find me?” Had he been worried for her?
He shrugged. “I couldn’t let harm come to my secret weapon.”
“What do you mean?” Auntie demanded.
“Nothing,” Gillian assured her. “He means nothing.” How stupid of her to think for a second that he’d been concerned for her actual welfare. Of course he was only concerned that she be fit to help him carry out his revenge. “Shall we go in and get refreshments, Auntie?”
“Not quite yet.” Aunt Millicent was staring hard at Alex. What on earth was her aunt up to? “Lord Lionhurst, why is it that you are approaching the age of―”
“Three and twenty,” Alex supplied.
“And you are not married?”
“Auntie, please,” Gillian scolded.
“Luck, I suppose.” He offered the answer with a casual shrug and a wink in Gillian’s direction. Her stomach fluttered in response.
Auntie smacked his arm and served him a scowl. “Be serious, young man.”
His eyes flicked to Gillian and held hers. “I asked a woman to marry me when I was but a green boy of eighteen. She taught me that women prefer titles to love.”
“A foolish woman,” Aunt Millicent murmured. “You seem to attract foolish women, Lord Lionhurst.”
Gillian blinked at her aunt’s cool green gaze, which was not focused on her. “Must you speak so plainly?” Gillian moaned, rolling her eyes heavenward.
“I must.”
Judging by the chuckle Auntie’s response drew from Alex, her aunt had failed to shock him with her bluntness.
“Your uncle loved my direct nature. He always said so. Since he passed, I strive to practice it every day.”
“Oh, I daresay it’s perfected, Aunt. You are as direct as the straightest line.”
“Lord Lionhurst, do you love direct women?”
“I love a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it.”
She should not look at him. She should murmur an excuse and hurry away. Leave her aunt and Alex to this pointless banter. But she did look. His eyes held hers, and she was sure he had been speaking of her, and she was once again inexcusably pleased.
Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel) Page 16