The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection

by Dorothy McFalls

  May remained frozen in the center of the kitchen while battling a mad desire to rush upstairs, fix her hair, and change into a newer gown. Radford would soon be on his way. She didn’t want his last memory of her to be one where she was dressed like an overworked servant.

  But if she were to move, Princess might bolt. The young filly might look strong, but as Radford had said, she was still very young and spirited. She shouldn’t be allowed to run wild through Bath. There were too many dangers she might encounter. She needed to be cared for, protected.

  May’s voice grew sore as she sang the same gentle lullaby. Luckily, her tune kept the horse’s interest. Princess continued to nibble.

  The front door squeaked as it opened. The filly’s ear twitched. Her attentions, however, remained fixed on the feast before her.

  A minute later, Radford limped into the kitchen, his cane clattering loudly on the stone floor. “Thank God,” he said between several deep breaths. “I thought I’d lost her for good this time.”

  His cravat hung loosely around his neck. He wore a black oilskin cape smudged with dirt. He looked adorably mussed. May couldn’t help but be drawn in by his larger-than-life presence in her kitchen.

  “I’m afraid she’s going to startle and run,” May whispered. “I’ve been singing to her.”

  A strange grin turned up the corner of his lips. “I heard. It was charming.” He spared May a quick glance. “She likes you, you know. I’ve never seen a horse so besotted before.”

  The thought of a horse in love with her had a strange effect on May’s mood. It pleased her to think that such a lean, graceful creature could find favor with her.

  “Come with me,” Radford said as he gathered the few remaining carrots from the kitchen cutting board and stuffed them into his pocket.

  “Where are we going?” May asked. She didn’t want to leave the filly. The silly horse needed her.

  “Outside.” Radford took May’s hand in his. “You are going to catch Princess for me.”

  “I am—what?” He had to be mad. She couldn’t catch a horse. What was to stop Princess from getting startled and kicking up her heavy hooves? May would get trampled . . . again.

  “No, no, don’t fret, May. I’ll be right beside you.” He led her around the house to where Princess stood in the backyard. She’d completely trampled Portia’s herb garden. The ground vibrated underneath May’s feet when Princess jerked her head from the window and sidestepped away from them.

  Distant thunder rumbled. Princess tossed her head up and down and sidestepped again, the storm obviously making her edgy.

  What to do? What to do?

  Radford needed her. Princess needed her. And all May could think about was how a horse had kicked her two days ago. She couldn’t brave the danger. It was madness.

  Radford pressed a carrot into her palm. She drew a deep breath. Madness or not, Princess and Radford needed her. She stepped forward and hummed the song she’d already used once to calm Princess. Her voice cracked as her nerves began to wan.

  “I’m right here,” Radford said quietly as if coaxing a skittish kitten. “Trust your instincts.”

  He set his cane on the grass and drew out a long leather lead line. “Keep doing what you are doing. You’ve won her interest. Now lure her closer with the carrot.”

  May clicked her tongue in her cheek as some carriage drivers would do before setting the horses into motion. The sound captured Princess’ attention. The horse lowered her head and flared her nostrils.

  “Hold out the carrot.” Radford’s cupped the back of May’s hand as he slowly guided her to reach toward the giant filly. He stepped directly behind May, his body conformed to the curves of her back. He folded an arm around her chest and held her safe within his cocoon. The leather lead line hung loosely in his grasp, brushing against the front of her threadbare calico gown.

  “Sweet Princess,” May sang. “Sweet, lost Princess, come home.”

  Step by step the horse approached. May swallowed hard and closed her eyes, fully expecting a loud clap of thunder to send the horse on a murderous rampage.

  Thunder did roll high in the sky. May’s eyes flew open. Princess didn’t seem to notice the rumbling sound while her flaring nostrils guided her to May’s hand.

  “Draw the carrot closer to your chest now,” Radford whispered.

  Her hand trembled as she coaxed Princess’ large head to hover inches from her own.

  “That’s a good girl.” May couldn’t tell if Radford was speaking to her or the horse. Not that it mattered. The tender space behind her ear tingled in response to the caress of his gentle voice. Her legs grew watery.

  Radford raised the lead line and very carefully laid it over Princess’ neck. It felt like forever as he very methodically looped the line around the filly’s broad neck.

  “Beautiful,” he breathed. His arms tightened around May. “Beautiful.”

  May released the breath she’d been holding and let her head fall back his chest, thrilling in the feel of his body touching hers.

  His lips brushed her neck, nudging her to tilt her head to one side as his warm lips worked their way up toward her tender earlobe. He drew off the kerchief covering her hair and ran his fingers through her thick curls.

  “Hmmm . . . ” Radford purred. “You’ve been such a passionate student. I cannot wait to teach you how to ride.”

  May teetered on the verge of losing herself. It would be only too easy to open her heart to him again. She started to turn her head and accept his kisses when a large drop of rain landed on the center of her forehead.

  A second drop fell on her shoulder.

  And then the sky opened up.

  Radford tightened his hold on the leading rein as a constant patter of cool raid pelted them, effectively washing the magic away and returning life to as it was. Radford stepped around May to settle Princess.

  “Let me secure her to the post out front and then I’ll join you inside.”

  Chapter 21

  Why hadn’t Radford called on her earlier in the day? Just a moment ago he’d acted as besotted as his filly. A complete change from a few hours ago when he’d sent that impersonal message to explain his absence. Was it his worry over his missing horse that had kept him away? Or second thoughts?

  May worried over those questions as she moved stacks of boxes from the parlor’s chairs. The whole cottage was in a sad state of disarray. The thought of entertaining anyone mortified her. She ran her fingers through her tangled curls and smoothed her gown several time while waiting for Radford to join her.

  “What is this?” he asked when he finally entered the room. He shook the water from his cape but didn’t bother to remove it. Instead he lifted the heavy box from May’s arms and set it aside. “You are leaving, aren’t you?”

  He sounded utterly crushed by the idea.

  “Aunt Winnie and I discussed the matter at length after you left this morning. She plans to stay with my uncle. He can provide for her much better than I.”

  Radford gave a sharp nod. “And yourself?”

  She found she couldn’t look at him. “Why didn’t you call on me this afternoon?” She’d had a pretty speech all planned for him. She’d worn her best gown . . . and he hadn’t appeared. No note, only a brief message conveyed by a footman to the Newbury’s butler.

  “Princess had jumped the fence. There were spots of blood on the boards and I was concerned she’d done herself injury. I asked my mother to—” He suddenly began to pace. “I suppose you never received a proper explanation. I am sorry to have disappointed you.”

  May shrugged. “I needed to help Portia pack our belongings anyhow. I-I am leaving Bath.”

  “You can’t,” he whispered, his expression falling. “I won’t let you.”

  She caressed his cheek. “Oh, Radford, I cannot stay. The Duke of Newbury’s eldest daughter has three children and no governess. She has graciously invited me to go live with her and her husband in London, and I have accepted.”
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  “But what about us? I can’t believe you would walk away from our friendship. I . . . I . . . ” He turned away suddenly. “I need you, May.”

  Oh, how she longed to believe he truly needed her. Hearing those words only punctuated the reasons she could not stay. She believed he found her attractive. But attraction was not enough. Mere attraction was not what had held her parents together for more than twenty years.

  What would happen to their relationship when his leg healed and he no longer felt as if he needed to be her champion in order to regain a morsel of self-worth? He would declare his hasty marriage a disaster, that is what.

  Oh la, if only she could peer into his heart and see what it was he loved. Did he truly want her or was he simply drawn to the feeling of strength he got from rescuing her?

  “I don’t know you well enough to know if this is right between us. Unlike my gypsy ancestors, I cannot read the future. What happens when the shine of our attraction begins to dim and you realize that I’m not someone special?” May drew her hands down her short, slightly squat body. “I am not willing to risk ruining your life for a few moments of bliss.”

  “A few moments, May? I don’t want just a few moments. This is a lifetime I’m talking about. You might not be able to see the future, but I can. For the first time since the accident I can actually visualize a tomorrow without dark clouds.”

  “That hope you feel is because you are taking care of yourself now. You are healing, becoming stronger. Soon you’ll be able to prove the doctors wrong and ride again.”

  “No,” Radford insisted. “It’s you who have transformed me.”

  If you care for him even a little, you will let him go. His mother was right. He was confused, scared that he may never be the strong man he once was. He needed time to heal and see for himself that there were scores of women who could make him happy.

  “Please do not press me,” May said. Her voice wavered as she held back a flood of tears. “My mind is set. I will not marry you.”

  The affection flew from his expression. His gaze was as cold as the jade stones his eyes resembled. He slapped his white-gloved hand against his thigh, a sure sign of his agitation.

  “You can drop the act.” He laughed then. It was a mirthless, pained laugh.

  May’s heart stopped. “I don’t understand—”

  “You must be the most skillful coquette I have ever met, ma’am. Imagine, I had believed you the most innocent of creatures.”

  Innocent? May had never thought herself innocent. She’d suffered enough rejection and heartache to understand the harsh realities of the world. She splayed her hands in front of her. “I am who I am, Radford. I have never played any games.”

  “Hah!” He tossed a hand in the air and paced, his cloak billowing out behind him. “You look at me with those large sorrowful eyes and see my disabilities. Admit it, you find me lacking.”

  “Lacking?” Like an empty headed parrot, she could only repeat the outrageous charge.

  “One favorable nod from the Duke of Newbury and you’ll become the rave of the season. Every beau of the town will be panting after you. That is what you want, isn’t it? That’s why you choose London over me.”

  May shook her head, unable to believe her ears. The anger dripping from his tongue singed them. “I don’t understand, my lord.”

  “My lord, is it now? You retreat to that prudish formality I once thought attractive? Well, it no longer wields the same power it once did, ma’am. I now know who you are. I’d been kidding myself. You are no different than Lady Lillian. All you care about is increasing your social position.”

  “Social position?” The thought was laughable. May would have laughed too if the hurt hadn’t cut so deeply. How could he believe such a thing?

  “And I was tearing myself apart trying to figure out how to convince you to be my wife?” He rounded on her then with violence brightening his eyes.

  May refused to cower while her heart was breaking. What hurt worse than his words was the solid conviction with which he’d uttered them.

  May sighed deeply.

  “Before your uncle, the duke, took you under his wing, you must have thought I was the best you could do. I needed a wife and you were so kind to me, pretending to be so blind to my infirmities, weren’t you?” He grabbed her arm and shook her. “I thought you had tender feelings for me. More’s the pity, I actually believed you.”

  May stumbled when he pushed her away. Her foot caught the corner of the tiny occasional table, toppling it. The woodland sprite figurine Radford had given her plunged to the floor and shattered.

  A tear tumbled unbidden down her cheek at the sight of the poor broken fairy creature. She had done nothing to deserve such a bad end.

  Nothing at all . . .

  “My lord,” May said. She drew a deep breath, blinked back what felt like a flood of tears, and straightened her shoulders, making herself as tall as her squat figure would possibly allow. “I would thank you to leave now.”

  He gaped at her for a moment and appeared unwilling to budge. It took all of May’s willpower and considerable pride not to throw herself into his arms and beg his understanding.

  If only their friendship didn’t have to end this way, shattered on the floor in so many pieces like the ruined figurine. Repair would be impossible.

  They were from two different worlds.

  “Good-bye, Miss Sheffers.” His voice was as stiff as his lame leg. He dipped a half bow before leaving her little cottage forever.

  * * * *

  The morning sun shone so brightly it nearly burned Radford’s stinging eyes. The early heat quickly dried up all evidence of the storm that had raged through the night.

  How dare the sun shine? The earth should be shrouded in darkness. That’s how he felt, why shouldn’t the world share his grief? A brightly liveried footman had arrived shortly after breakfast and handed him a folded piece of foolscap bearing the Duke of Newbury’s seal, along with the missing teacup from his set wrapped in a dainty handkerchief.

  The sight of the lonely teacup crushed his aching soul.

  He’d sat up all night wasting page after page of foolscap in a desperate attempt to recapture the flowery words he’d once spoken to charm the young ladies, words that could win back May’s bruised heart. Those words were no longer his to spout at will. That carefree young man had died on the Peninsula. His words were now fatally tinged with bitterness . . . and pride.

  His pride had ruined him yesterday. He’d wanted to sweep May into his arms and kiss her until she was gasping for air. Her open dismissal of his need for her had killed the impulse. For a horrifying moment he felt like he was again sprawled and split open, helpless on the battlefield.

  Out of fear, he’d fought back. Anger had done well to hide his fears . . . and had managed to push away his first glimpse at regaining a pleasant life.

  After setting the delicate teacup on the desk in front of him, Radford broke the ducal seal and unfolded the foolscap. The note, signed by the duke, was brief and terse.

  “Miss Sheffers has asked me to return this teacup to your person. She sends with it her regrets for having kept it so long. Upon her leaving Bath this morning, Miss Sheffers also personally requested that you make no attempt to contact her. I am to assure you that she bears you no ill feelings.”

  Radford read the letter through several times, each time feeling emptier than the last.

  She was gone . . . and wanted nothing from him.

  He’d been a damned fool not to pursue her in the first place. He tore the dratted marriage list from his pocket and smoothed it out on the desk beside the Duke of Newbury’s letter.

  None of the requirements of the list seemed to make a bit of sense anymore. The check sheet had led him down the wrong path . . . if not for fate, he’d presently be engaged to a lady most unsuitable for him.

  He lifted the list and tore it neatly down the center. He’d forgotten to factor in so many intangibles such as passion, carin
g, and love. Those were the qualities he should have been looking for when beginning this fool’s search for a wife. And those qualities weren’t to be found in any one young lady. As May had shown him, he needed to find those qualities first within himself.

  Her compassion and understanding had opened his heart . . . now she was gone and he felt raw inside. He rose from the desk and limped across the room. With an angry flick of the wrist he tossed the cursed list into the fireplace and watched as the corners of the paper that had once outlined his future curled and burned.

  A gentle pressure touched his shoulder. Radford reached up and cupped his hand over his mother’s frail fingers.

  “I knocked,” she said. “I grew worried when there was no answer.”

  Radford didn’t say a word for a long time. He just continued to watch as the foolscap slowly burned in the banked coals.

  “I have made a mess of my life, Mother,” he confessed after the last evidence of the marriage list was destroyed.

  “No, dear, you are doing just fine. You are just unhappy right now.” She choked back a soft sob. “I was wrong to press the suit between you and Lady Lillian. I see that now. She wasn’t right for you.”

  Lady Lillian, a fine woman by all accounts, would one day make a lucky man very happy. Just not him. He needed a very special woman to lift him out of his dark moods. He needed a woman to teach him that life was worth living again.

  How had he let his pride chase such a woman away?

  “I apologize for my behavior, son. I should have never let the prestige of connecting our family with one as respected as the Duke of Newbury’s get in the way of your happiness. Your happiness is all that is important to me. Please tell me you believe that.”

  Radford drew a long, deep breath. His life wasn’t over. That gypsy at the fair had told him that he’d been hiding instead of living. Today, he believed it. “I do, Mother. I want the best for you as well.”

  “That Margaret Sheffers—” his mother said, “she is the lady whom you love?”

  Radford limped over to the window and watched as his horses pranced and played in the fields. It was time he began to live again. Even if it meant he’d have to subsist as a lonely man, he would embrace each new day with all the challenges the rising sun brought with it.