Lady X

by Claudy Conn

  “Right then, my bonnie lass, let me show ye what such a man, a ‘devil-may-care’ man would do when a beauty such as yourself is alone in his company,” he said on a low husky note, the blue of his eyes deepening so that for a moment, Exerilla could only stare into them. Something about those eyes seemed…otherworldly. She was being fanciful she knew and shoved such a notion away.

  His arms crushed her, yet, it didn’t hurt. His mouth expertly found her lips and parted them with his own, and suddenly, she felt overtaken. Suddenly she was traveling to another Realm, one of stardust and flowers of every color.

  She was with him; in another universe where everything was dark and light and all that mattered were his lips on hers. His tongue teased as it entered and she knew she should kick and push and shove. She was aroused beyond any experience or expectation she had ever had in her life. She wanted to hold onto to him, and taste him forever.

  His deft handling of her was sensuous and exhilarating. It took tremendous effort on her part to try and make him stop. She did not succeed, but caved to the sensation he made blossom inside of her. It was as though a clear white light engulfed her and whispered for her to kiss him back. Before she knew what she was doing, she was doing just that.

  She was startled by her wild uncontrollable reaction to him and that got through to her and brought her back to earth. She wasn’t the sort that jumped into such things, but here she was shaken by a kiss!

  Stop it, she told herself, as she attempted to regain control of her wayward hormones. What was happening? She tried —to think logically, is it because he is from another century, and he is the ultimate playboy who takes and runs, and he is human…he will die of old age and you will not. Stop! That thought is what finally got through and sobered her.

  Okay, a girl from this time would display outrage and rake him down. She summed up the ability as she tried to yank away from that all consuming kiss.

  She found he immediately released her when she pulled away. She had thought she might have to struggle. She said with sufficient temper, “How dare you!”

  “I dare like this,” he whispered and proceeded to slip his arms around her again.

  She shuffled away from him on the seat and was immediately jostled to the narrow floor. He reached for her, helped her up and maintained a hand around her waist. She pushed at his fingers and said, “Unhand me, sir.”

  He laughed and said, “Do you prefer the floor to my touch?”

  “I think you know you have offered me insult, and it is true, I am unprotected, without even a ladies’ maid. That does not mean I am not gently-born or gently bred and even if I weren’t, is that how you conduct yourself with unprotected females?”

  She glared at him as he took his time and studied her as though she were in a glass bottle. What the heck was he doing?

  Then he asked, “Who the devil are ye, lass?”

  His hand was still holding her steady against the ride, but the coach was slowly turning into a courtyard. She put up her brow and answered, chin high, “I am Exerilla Radley, I was sent to stay with my er…late father’s friends,” she paused, distressed with herself for lying, but she had no choice. While she was here in this century she had a part to play. She swallowed and continued, “Their circumstances were complicated and they had no choice but to send me off to their relatives for the time being.” She eyed him as her brows drew together.

  His face and eyes appeared to sober, he reached for and gently stroked her cheek. His voice seemed sincere as he said, “Ah, I am sorry for yer loss, sweet lass. Have ye no living relatives in America, then?”

  She shook her head and looked away. Lying was something she had never enjoyed. She had to hide the fact that she was a white witch from her friends, but she rarely had to tell ‘out and outers’ or live a lie like this. This was a biggy and for some strange reason, lying to him made her feel queasy inside.

  He said, “Brave lass.” And then as though trying to change the mood, his tone was laced with a tease, once again, “Right then, m’darlin’, as I told ye, I am Lord Hunter MacTorry and I shall not allow any harm to come to ye. I am putting m’self at yer feet and in yer service.” He spoke as though to a child.

  She made a face like one and said, “Well, you have offered me insult and…”

  He frowned, “Insult was not intended.” He reached to stroke her cheek.

  She slapped his hand away, and he grinned before he set his blue eyes alight with playfulness, “Aye then, what is it lass, have ye a beau in the wings that might wish to call me out in the morning? Shall I give ye m’card to give to him?”

  “I wish I did,” she snapped at him.

  He laughed and eyed her, “I doona believe that ye haven’t a beau. Ye are too beautiful, or do ye frown them all away?”

  She frowned at him, “Is it working?”

  He laughed, “Aye then, I think I have yer measure. Ye wouldna let any other call me out, would ye? No, ye would call me out yerself before ye set anyone to do it fer ye.”

  She couldn’t stop the smile that instantaneously curved her lips, “You got that right.” Oops, she thought again. Modern slang won’t do.

  Again he eyed her as though puzzled, but seemed to shrug it off as he inclined his head and said, “Right then, I repeat, sweet lass, I am most humbly at your service.”

  “Charmingly said, but I think I know the only service you want to offer,” she said on a grimace.

  He burst out laughing and then looked her over, “Indeed, I know ye are American, but lass, ye have a lively mind and mouth.” Saying this, he had her arms gently in his hands as he brought her close and pressed her breasts against his rock hard body. She didn’t struggle. She found she couldn’t struggle because she damn well didn’t want to. Everything about this man excited her and she hadn’t been ‘excited’ in a very long time.

  Her eyelids got lazy and she felt that electric current she had experienced before when she looked at him. It shot through her and she swore she could feel the sizzle tinge her skin and light up her blood. She thought of Mellencamp’s song, Hurt So Good. This is what it hurt so good meant and it did, yes it did. He didn’t try to kiss her this time. This time his lips were at her ear and he murmured, “Exerilla Radley of America, ye have secrets as we all do, but lass, yers I’ll bet are worth the effort. I doona think we are not destined to meet over and over again…”

  Exerilla’s heart began pounding against her chest, her mind began racing. ‘What was he saying? What did he mean? And most definitely, what the frigging heck?’

  * * *

  The main galley of the Red Bull was full to overflowing with gentlemen and to Exerilla’s way of thinking, all of them seemed more than a little festive, for a lazy spring afternoon. None of them looked like farmers. Farmers would be out tending their crops. Besides, from the way they were dressed, she took them for what they were, gentry.

  She overheard them talking and realized most of them were not locals. Apparently most of them were there for the cock fight that was scheduled to take place in the recesses of the inn’s rear courtyard that very evening. She winced at the thought.

  Exerilla found a great many stares directed at her as she made her way through, but they seemed more curious than leering still, she did feel mildly uncomfortable. Lord Scotsman seemed to take umbrage, glaring at them till they hurriedly looked away as he led her to a private dining chamber.

  It was as though he had taken possession of her as he gently steered her through and saw to her immediate comforts. She couldn’t deny being impressed.

  She was in fact, aware of a very deep sensation of gratitude. Just what did a poor woman do when she was alone in this century and needed to stop for a respite?

  He saw her within the chamber, saw her seated on a velvet cushioned chair near the low burning fire in the small hearth and stopped to touch her shoulder reassuringly. His blue eyes were alive with concern and his dark brows were drawn in a frown. “I am sorry, Miss Radley, I did not realize the inn
would be so crowded at this time of day. The men seem to be enjoying a bit of sport but none will bother ye. More of a sporting tavern, ye see, as the stagecoach never really stops here.” He sighed. “It will all be over soon. Sir Jacob is mollifying the coachman right now with a bit of the ready and a hearty meal. That done, his horses rested, he will drive ye off to Dover to meet yer people with no more harm done.”

  “That sounds like a plan but it isn’t, not for me,” she shook her head and sighed. “First of all, I can only wonder what those men out there think, seeing you escort me in here alone. In this day and age, things like that aren’t done. Secondly, ‘my people’ as you call them,” she had put the words in quote with her fingers. “Will not be there to meet me as I doubt they can just stay about the stagecoach depot and wait all evening.”

  He frowned as she spoke and again she realized she would have to play her part a bit better. She was saved by a young serving girl who entered with a tray laden with refreshments.

  “Ah,” he said as he poured a glass of wine, got on one knee and handed it to Exerilla. “A truce, Miss Exerilla Radley?”

  He shook her to her core.

  Everything he did, totally and completely caught her off her guard. She took the glass because she damn well needed it and said, “Oh please, get up.” She couldn’t prevent the tickle in her throat from escaping as she ruefully smiled.

  “I’d rather pull you down here with me,” he said raising his eyes to hers before he started to rise.

  They were interrupted at this juncture by a male voice at the door his lordship had left wide open. “Food! Damn, but you are a smart fellow, Hunter ole boy.’ Then, as the young man she knew to be Sir Jacob spied Exerilla demurely seated by the fire, he promptly turned a bright shade of red and lamely mumbled, “Oh…oh, well, hallo.”

  “Jacob, allow me to introduce Miss Exerilla Radley to ye. The poor lass was Jerry’s prisoner during his harrowing drive and I am trying to make it up to her.” He inclined his head, “Miss Radley, Sir Jacob Cressly.”

  Sir Jacob seemed overcome with guilt as he stammered incoherently and bent his head toward her in his attempt to apologize and finally managed, “Miss Radley, what you must think of us? I…oh well, what can I say? I do beg your forgiveness.”

  He didn’t look much older than she was herself and she could see that he truly was embarrassed. She smiled and waved it off, “Well, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Uh-oh,” his lordship said ruefully. “Not his fault, but mine? I should like to know the road ye took to get to that one.”

  “You are older and should have stopped your awful friend. Sir Jacob is probably my age, and no doubt has been allowed to think that other one is just a blood out for sport.” She turned to Jacob, “But you know, sir, that is not the way to look at it when you force people to endure your sport. One doesn’t engage in sport at others expense. Think about that.” She eyed him and although she thought that he looked sufficiently abashed, added, “It is all well and good to go out and have a jolly old time when you don’t drag unwilling people into your game. What you did was short of kidnapping.” She wanted to send her message home, for she could see he wasn’t a bad sort. She couldn’t figure out what he was doing keeping company with a creep like the one called Jerry Swit and for that matter, a player like MacTorry.

  Sir Jacob had by now been slain both by her ‘take command and motherly diatribe’ and her spirit. His manner immediately became deferential as he said, “You are, of course, absolutely in the right of it. I can only attempt to make up for our conduct by personally seeing you safely to your destination.”

  “Nonsense,” X said waving this off. “As long as your friend is finished driving the stage, I am hopeful of freshening up and going along as I originally planned.”

  “Nevertheless, I shall personally attend you as your outrider,” he looked at Hunter. “We all will.”

  “Indeed, Jacob, it is the least we can do,” Hunter responded and once again, Exerilla noted a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

  A shuffling step brought their heads around to find Jerry Swit at the open doorway. He looked very pleased with himself and ready for another frolic. It occurred to Exerilla, that this was a very bad man. All her senses were repulsed by him and not just because of his recent behavior. She did not get a wave of evil from him, but she got one of devilry at any cost. Her natural instincts and magical components said this was a selfish and possibly dangerous man. She cold shouldered him and refused to look his way.

  A young serving girl had attempted to walk by in the hall behind him, but hearing her; he turned and reached out, caught the girl by the arm and drew her to him. The serving girl giggled, but Exerilla was disgusted by everything about him. It was not the sort of behavior a gentleman engaged in while in a lady’s company.

  “Jerry!” Jacob attempted to bring him to order. “We have a guest.” Jacob turned and hurriedly offered in an obvious attempt to make light of the situation, “Our driver, Miss Radley, Jerry Swit.”

  Swit turned away from the little pretty maid at the door and stared at Exerilla intently as a low whistle escaped his lips. “Whoa darlin’, what have we here? You are the finest piece of…”

  His lordship took a threatening step toward him and said, “If ye canna maintain manners in front of a lady, then I’ll be asking ye to leave.” No one listening or watching his lordship doubted his ability to carry through on the threat.

  “Easy there Scotty,” Jerry Swit said. “No insult intended.” He smiled at Exerilla who immediately looked away once again.

  Jacob stepped forward strategically blocking Swit from getting closer to Exerilla and said, “Jerry, Miss Radley was in the coach, you see and…”

  Jerry cut him off and gently pushed him out of the way as he stepped toward her, “Were you my love? Did I shake you up a bit? Never mind, all is well that…”

  Exerilla saw that his lordship was about to lay a threatening hand on Jerry and hurriedly interjected, “I prefer that when you speak, you don’t do it in my direction. I consider your actions way beyond my ability to forgive and besides that, I don’t like you.” She had gotten to her feet to tell him this, with one hand on her hip and the other wagging a finger at him. “As it happens all is not well that ends well. I have been virtually abducted and mean to report you to the authorities when I arrive in Dover at the stagecoach depot.”

  “Do you, do you really mean to do that, love?” Jerry clucked his tongue. “Well then, perhaps I can make arrangements in that regard. Perhaps you shan’t reach Dover, any time soon.”

  “Zounds, what kind of blackguard are you, Jerry?” Jacob was honestly shocked. He turned to Exerilla, “He doesn’t mean it, Miss Radley. He just always goes too far with his jests.”

  “I don’t find him amusing,” Exerilla kept a watchful eye.

  Jerry said on a low note, “But I find you beautiful.” Oddly enough, he surprised X by turning at that and sidling over to Hunter who was looking like a storm just before it erupts. He said in contemptuous voice, “I see you ordered dinner. Mean to feed the chit and soften her up, eh?”

  MacTorry was on him. Apparently his effort to contain his temper failed in that moment. Exerilla watching him sucked in air. He looked like a veritable windstorm brewing itself into a full blown hurricane. She saw an ominous threat in his deep blue eyes. She put out a hand, “Please…we don’t wish to draw attention to ourselves.”

  Hunter MacTorry’s voice was a low throttled growl as he spoke to Swit. “I already told ye, if ye doona mean to be polite ye may quit our company. Doona think that I shall tolerate much more of ye. If I have thus far, `tis because I doona wish to bring attention and scandal to Miss Radley, after all she has endured because of us. But if ye persist Jerry Swit, I may have to put an end to yer filthy mouth here and now.” So saying, he walked the two steps over giving his arm to Exerilla. “May I take you to the table, lass?”

  She placed her hand on his forearm and stepped closer to him. She wasn’t
sure what to make of the arrogant Scotsman, but she did feel safe in his company.

  Why she should feel that way was beyond her immediate logic. All she knew was what she felt and what she felt was guided by her inner witch. She may have shielded her witch from detection, but it was there, deep inside mewling at her, guiding her, demanding wishfully for release. Her witch always recognized good and evil in warlocks and witches, but humans were a tricky lot. A soft sigh escaped her. She was in such a pickle.

  ~ Five ~

  “YE HAVE HAD yer fun, Jerry, so now just leave it be,” his lordship’s voice was low, hard and underlined with a warning. He was sick of Swit and ready to land him a facer, sling him over his horse, tie him on and lead him to Dover as unconscious as he could keep him. He could keep him that way with the flick of his wrist, but one of the reasons he was going to Dover was to follow Swit to his ‘connection’.

  It was obvious however, that the blackguard’s eye had wandered meaningfully over Miss Radley’s luscious form. It made him sick to see Swit look at her.

  He wouldn’t allow the scoundrel to annoy her on his watch. He was going to have to determine a way to steer Swit in another direction. He couldn’t break with him. He had to continue the pretense of a shaky comradery and he had to manage him without coming to blows. Jerry was key to many things that he needed.

  He saw Swit stare at Exerilla and clenched his fists as he watched the man’s gaze linger at her full breasts before traveling up to her luscious lips. He wanted to beat him into the ground; he ground his teeth with frustration.

  He saw her seated within the confines of the stagecoach once again, but noted that her profile was visible at the window. Jerry wouldn’t take his eyes off her.

  Even though the late afternoon light was giving way to the evening, her profile was tantalizing. Jerry’s interest was palpable as he stared at her and said, “No, I won’t let that pretty little bit of fluff get away from me just yet. I am not done with her.” His lips curved into something like a sneer, “I am not letting it stand, the way she talked to me. She needs a lesson, my kind of lesson.” He shrugged, “Besides, in the end she won’t be able to resist me. Women rarely can and a woman like her, so beautiful, her body so perfect, she was made for one thing, wasn’t she? And I mean to have that one thing before she gets to her destination. So if you don’t like the notion, you better hang back, you and young Jacob.”