Forgetting the teapot, she hurried off, leaving him to sit there in his soaked clothes. By the time she returned Colin had gotten his composure under control once again. He guzzled the ale, shoveled the eggs into his mouth and sopped up the yolks with the toast. Something touched his feet, and he looked down to see the tortoiseshell cat slamming its torso against his ankles and purring in delight.
He waited until Meg’s back was turned, then scooped up a bit of egg yolk on his finger, put his hand beneath the table, and let the affectionate feline lick it off.
The door opened, and she walked in.
He grabbed her sleeve as she approached, hauling her so close that her startled face was mere inches from his. “Where on earth have you been?” he demanded, beneath his breath. “We can’t stay here, not now—”
She stared at him, properly affronted. Then, with that casual, haughty elegance she could command at the bat of an eye, she shook him off, moved around the table, and sat down across from him, her eyes sparkling with humor and the love of what surely, to her, must be the ultimate adventure. “Really, Doctor, do you think I did not know? They were banging that notice onto the door at an hour unfit, even, for the roosters. Made enough racket to wake the dead. Now where’s that foolish maid? I could go for some tea and toast.”
He glanced over his shoulder then leaned forward, hoping no one had recognized her. “Ariadne, keep your cap on and your head down. Don’t meet anyone’s eyes. Just sit there, don’t say a word, and for God’s sake, keep your coat closed!”
“Really, Colin, I have no plausible reason to open it.”
“Plague take it, it’s not funny!”
“No, the situation is not.” She reached over and touched his wrist. “But your concern, is.” Grinning, she picked up his cup and angled her head toward the untouched pot of tea.
Rolling his eyes, Colin picked up the pot and filled the cup with the steeped brew, keenly aware of her eyes on his face.
She grinned, and raising the cup delicately to her lips, lifted her hand in an imperious motion for Meg to bring her some toast. “I have been on the run for several days now. I have seen these notices all over London. I expect to see them all the way to Norfolk, and with, I’m certain, increasing frequency.” She smiled sweetly, and leaned back as Meg set toast, butter and a pot of marmalade before her. “But I know, the shock of seeing one for the first time is rather distressing, is it not? By the way—”
She reached into her pocket, and grinning, came up with his spectacles. “Look what I found in the hay this morning.”
The memories came flooding back.
“Sleep well, Dr. Lord?”
So, they were back to this again. She, virginal and shy by night, bold and flirtatious by day. He couldn’t keep up with her, let alone understand her.
“Lady Ariadne—”
“I watched you sleep, you know.”
He tried to scowl, but she merely grinned, her eyes sparkling.
“You made a charming sight. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve never watched a man sleep before.”
“Let me guess,” he said wryly, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it for her. “I’m the one who drools. Who talks in his sleep.”
She laughed, opened his glasses, and leaning over the table, slid them onto his nose. “To be honest, good Doctor, I really didn’t notice. And if I did, I am not so sure I would embarrass you by telling you.”
“Marmalade?”
“Yes, please. And lots of it, if you don’t mind.”
He spread the jelly thickly over the toast, then handed it to her. Still grinning at him, she took a bite out of it, crunching happily and studying him pertly from across the table. His heartbeat began to quicken, and he suddenly felt hot all over. She was the only person he’d ever met who could reduce his composure to pudding; not even his admiral, not even Nelson had been able to shake him. But this girl—this playful, saucy, flirtatious little noblewoman—she could reduce him to a bucket of guts without even trying, just by paying him too much attention in all the right places.
Wishing he could ignore her, knowing he could not, he picked up his mug and brought it to his lips.
“I wish I’d met you before Father promised me to Maxwell,” she said baldly.
He nearly choked on his tea.
“Oh, Colin, you are so refreshing after the pampered blades of London! So artless, and totally unaware of yourself . . . really, there’s no need to glare at me as if I were an errant child, because you really are a lot of fun and I quite enjoy your company. You know, I might even keep you on as my personal veterinarian after I get married so that—”
“How was your ride?” he said tightly, trying to change the subject.
“My ride?”
“Yes, your ride. Meg told me you took Shareb-er-rehh out for a gallop.”
She grinned and stretched her hands over her head, totally oblivious to the pain she had just caused him with that single word—Maxwell—, totally unaware of the charming sight she made in her shirt, cap and breeches. “Ah, it was exhilarating! Shareb-er-rehh is all set to go, happy as a lark this morn because I gave him some pastr— I mean, breakfast, and now the sun is starting to break through the clouds, and you know something, Dr. Lord, I think it’s going to be a positively beautiful day!”
Just then, a terrified, inhuman scream split the air.
Colin jumped to his feet, nearly upsetting the table, his face paling.
“Lud, what on earth was that?!” Ariadne gasped, clapping a hand to her chest.
But the veterinarian threw down his napkin and heedless of the angry protests, shoved his way through a group of milling patrons in his haste to reach the door. As he charged outside, the other diners rose to their feet, their chairs scraping and silverware hitting their plates.
“What is it?”
“Dunno. Something going on outside!”
“Cor, what a bloody awful sound—”
Ariadne ran to the door to see what the commotion was all about, but the other patrons were there before her. Again came that chilling scream, and she felt the hair rise on her nape and her blood running cold as she shoved her way through the other people and halted in her tracks on the doorstep just outside.
Her hand went to her mouth in horror.
In the space of a moment, she saw it all. An old, broken-down bay horse, harnessed to a cart and screaming in terror as a man beat it about the ears with a stick and another man, holding a bucket and some sort of knife, tried to get close to its neck.
And the veterinarian. Her veterinarian, striding angrily down the lawn towards the frightened animal, his fists clenched and his back stiff with rage.
“Colin!” she cried. Then, she broke from the crowd and raced headlong across the lawn after him. “Colin!”
He never stopped, his angry, hitching stride carrying him toward the horse at a speed she would never have thought him capable of attaining. Breathless, she caught up to him and grabbed his arm. His jaw was set, his eyes hard and furious behind his glasses.
“Colin, you can’t just interfere—”
He shook her off, shoving his way through the small group that surrounded the horse until he reached its head.
“I beg your pardon,” he ground out, with barely suppressed fury, “But may I offer a bit of advice here?”
He caught the gelding’s bridle, and Ariadne saw the poor, suffering animal turn its face against his chest in grateful relief.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you blighty bugger?” the farrier cried, raising the scalpel as Colin came between him and the horse. “Get out of here and mind your own business, I’ve got work to do!”
Cradling the gelding’s head in the curve of his arm, Colin turned blazing eyes on the farrier. “There is no need to practice phlebotomy on a horse with the mere complaint of harness sores. Leave him be.”
People came running from the inn, and soon there was a small crowd surrounding the horse. An awed murmur rippled through
it like lightning through thunder clouds.
“Who the hell are you?” the farrier persisted.
Filled with pride and admiration, Ariadne stepped forward. “He is Colin Lord, London veterinarian, and if says the horse doesn’t need to be bled, he doesn’t!”
“Well, I say he does, and I damn well ought to know!”
“He does not need to be bled! No animal does!” Shielding the gelding’s face from the enraged farrier, the veterinarian turned to the horse’s shocked owner. His voice was shaking, unsteady with rage. “Look, Mister—please. Let me treat him. For God’s sake, I won’t charge you a damned penny—”
The farrier flung his bucket down in the mud. “You questioning my skills? You think I don’t know what I’m doing? Who the hell do you think you are, to just come in here and tell me how to do my job? Huh? You tell me, you bastard!”
The crowd stirred uneasily, anticipating a fight.
“Tell me!”
“He’s going to hit him,” whispered a man standing near Ariadne, jerking his head toward the farrier. “You can’t push John Beckett too far, I tell you!”
“Nah, he won’t hit a lad with specs,” another hissed back.
“Ye want to make a bet? My money’s on Beckett.”
“And mine’s on the veterinarian!” Ariadne cried. “Don’t let him hurt that poor horse, Doctor Lord! You hear me? Don’t let him!”
Her shrill cry sent the farrier over the edge. Scalpel raised, he went for the gelding’s jugular, and from her close vantage point, Ariadne saw it all.
The perfect composure of the doctor’s face. The absence of hesitation as he stepped protectively in front of the gelding. The quick, upward flash of his fist.
And the farrier, crumpling to the wet gravel, his nose spraying a fan of blood.
Colin stepped back, shouldering the horse away with him.
“Huzzah for you, Colin!” Ariadne shouted, caught up in the moment and jumping up and down as the crowd went wild around her. “Give the blackguard what he deserves!”
The farrier stumbled to his feet, one hand covering his bleeding nose. “You hit me!” he roared, flinging down the scalpel. “Damn yer eyes, ye bloody hit me!”
“Yes, and I’ll do so again if you so much as come near this animal with that scalpel.” Still holding the gelding, Colin turned to the shocked owner. “Sir, please. I’ll buy the beast from you. The dog, too. How much do you want for them?”
“Well, I—”
“Twenty pounds? Thirty?”
“You bloody HIT me!”
The farrier hurled himself at Colin, and in the space of a heartbeat, Ariadne saw her veterinarian draw a breath—no, it was more a sigh than a breath—glance heavenward in a plea for divine patience, and then whirl to drive his fist into the farrier’s jaw with such force that the man’s head rocked back, his knees buckled, and he fell sprawling on his back in a fresh pile of dung.
And this time, he did not get up.
The crowd, shocked, went dead silent as Colin turned calm, patient eyes upon the horse’s owner. “Sir? You were saying?”
“T-t-twenty pounds,” the man stammered, backing away. “Twenty pounds and they’re yours.”
Colin smiled. “Done.”
CHAPTER 10
They did not linger at the inn.
In moments, the old bay gelding was harnessed and being backed into the shafts, someone, at Colin’s request, had found some sheepskin to protect the animal’s sores, Shareb was being tied to the chaise, both dogs were loaded, and they were hastily on their way, the milling knot of people on the lawn growing smaller and smaller with distance behind them.
Dr. Lord, it was obvious, was eager to put as many miles between them and the inn as quickly as possible.
“You were magnificent back there,” Ariadne gushed, “Simply magnificent! I would never have guessed you could fight like that, being such a quiet and gentle person, but my goodness, that awful man deserved everything you gave him and I’m so proud of you! How anyone could be cruel to such a kind old horse as—what did you say his name was?”
“Thunder.”
“Thunder, is beyond me. Just think of what would have happened to that poor horse if we hadn’t come along in time.”
Her companion cast a quick glance over his shoulder, oblivious to the way Ariadne was smiling up at him, and she wondered if her own eyes reflected the same worshipful adoration toward him that those of animals did. At the moment, she didn’t care. At the moment, she was just a little bit in love with Colin Lord, maybe even more than just a little bit, and who wouldn’t be, after seeing what he’d done back there?
“You’re a hero, Colin.”
His face looked pained.
“And I’m so glad you gave that man what he deserved. But, do you think that having Thunder along is going to complicate things for us?”
“Actually, it should be to our benefit,” he said, finally relaxing as it became apparent that they weren’t being followed. “Every money-hungry reward hunter from here to Norfolk is on the lookout for a bay horse and a young, flame-haired woman. Thunder may be a complication, but he is a necessary one.”
“How?”
“No one is going to be looking for two bay horses, similar in size and color—”
She laughed. “Dr. Lord, how can you even compare such an animal with Shareb? They are night and day! At least Thunder seems to enjoy pulling the chaise, which should put Shareb back in good humor.”
“So stop complaining.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Dr. Lord, sometimes you are too high-and-mighty for your own good. Acting better than you are. Such behavior is highly inappropriate.”
“And how would you like me to behave?”
“Appropriately.”
“And what is appropriate?”
She sniffed. “Suitably subservient.”
“Yes, your Highness.”
“Don’t get smart.”
“Of course not, your Highness.”
She laughed and playfully swatted him with her cap. He couldn’t prevent his lips from twitching. Then she coaxed Bow into her lap, and moved her feet so that their other new acquisition, the gun dog—whose soulful brown eyes were gazing reverently up at the doctor—had a place to lie down.
“And what are you going to call your new dog? Stern?”
“What?”
“If that one’s Bow, then is this one Stern?”
“Why don’t you name him.”
She looked at the dog; unlike the horse, he appeared to be nobly bred, with a beautiful head through which an off-center blaze ran, and plenty of muscle under his short white coat with its brown ticking. He had the look of an aristocrat about him, and he needed a suitable name.
“Marcus,” she announced. “We’ll call him Marc.”
“Aurelius?”
“Antony.”
Colin, grinning, reached down to scratch the dog’s ears, and glancing at his employer, saw that she was leaning back in her seat watching him.
Not just watching him. Studying him, with admiring, worshipful eyes—just as she’d been doing ever since he’d stepped in and rescued Thunder from the farrier. It was unnerving. Disconcerting. And, if he were honest with himself, flattering, because her perky energy, her bubbly spirits, drew him like water to a sponge. God help him, how was he going to endure this all the way to Norfolk? He looked away, pretending indifference, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her still watching him from beneath her cap. He could see her red locks, her pouty mouth, the bored, restless look in her eye that spelled trouble.
She sighed.
He didn’t say anything.
She began drumming her fingers against her knee.
“Would you like to drive?” he asked, trying to think of something to amuse her.
“No.” She sighed again. “I would not like to drive. I would like to talk about . . . last night.”
“That’s unfortunate, because I
would not.”
“Don’t be a prude, Colin. It’s not as though anything happened.”
She drew her legs up, turned on the seat, and then startled him by lying back until her shoulders were against his thigh, her head in his lap.
Colin went stiff.
“My lady, this is not appropriate,” he said, his light humor vanishing.
“What, do you mind so very much?”
“It’s not that I mind, but—”
“Then what is the trouble?”
“You’re betrothed.”
“Yes, but I’m not doing anything wrong. Besides, I am most comfortable, you’re a very handsome man, and I enjoy looking at you.”
“You shouldn’t enjoy looking at me, you belong to somebody else.”
“Not yet I don’t. Until I’m married I may look at anyone I please. And right now, I find it immensely pleasing to look at you. It’s unfortunate that you don’t like to look at me.”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“It’s obvious.”
“So, I behave within the confines of propriety. There is nothing contemptible about that.”
“No, but how utterly boring. So, good doctor, are you saying you do like to look at me?”
He merely turned that patient, unflappable, stare upon her that said more than words ever could.
“Well?” Ariadne pressed, her eyes sparkling.
“Any attraction I feel for you is a useless emotion.”
“So. That doesn’t mean you cannot have it. Are you attracted to me, Colin?”
“Ariadne, this conversation is doing neither of us any good—”
“I don’t see the harm in it. Because right now, you see, I’m not feeling very pretty, garbed as I am in a man’s clothes and watching what’s left of my reputation fade away with every mile we get closer to Norfolk. It’s reassuring to hear that someone finds me attractive, especially someone who, I must say, is the hero of the hour.”
Her companion just looked straight ahead, his eyes bleak.
“You are a hero, you know.”
“And you are a flirt. Sit up, Ariadne, and act like a lady.”
“I cannot act like a lady when I’m masquerading as a man.”
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