Taming the Duke

by Jackie Manning

  But Dalton was another matter.

  Chapter Eight

  Alicia had barely slipped out of her ball gown when the first rays of sunlight sliced through the opening between the velvet drapes, slanting gold across the blue satin bedspread. “Please open the drapes, Marie. I love to see the sky at dawn.”

  “Mon Dieu, my lady,” Marie said, arranging the discarded ball gown on an embroidered silk hanger. “If I do, you’ll never sleep with the room full of sunlight.”

  Alicia sighed. “I’m not the least bit sleepy.” How could she explain to Marie that she felt much too exhilarated to lie down? She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. In her mind, she could still hear the lilting music, see Dalton’s handsome face smiling down at her as they danced. No, she didn’t want to waste a moment of this glorious feeling with sleep.

  “I must see to Bashshar,” Alicia said instead. She knew the guests from last night’s ball would be asleep by now. The stables and riding paths would be deserted. Now was the perfect time to work with Bashshar.

  Marie tilted her head, her black curls dancing beneath her frilly cap. “Ah, then I will fetch your riding habit.” The maid stifled a yawn. “Do you wish the blue or the brown?”

  “Neither. I’ll wear my usual attire, and I can dress myself.” Alicia hoped Marie wouldn’t inquire which gown that might be. There was no way the French maid would understand why a lady would want to dress in breeches and a loose-fitting shirt.

  Alicia sat at the dressing table and began to remove the pins from her hair. In the mirror, she could see Marie’s look of shock.

  “My lady, that is for me to do.” Marie dashed to her side and carefully removed the pins and pearls from Alicia’s hair. As the maid chatted, Alicia’s thoughts kept wandering back over the glorious events of last night. Her body tingled as she remembered how hard and strong Dalton’s arms felt when he held her, when he kissed her….

  “…pile your hair or pull it back with a ribbon?” Marie’s accented voice ended with a question.

  Caught daydreaming, Alicia blinked. In the mirror, she saw her thick, heavy hair cascading to her waist. “I—I’ll braid it myself, Marie. Thank you. Now, I insist you leave and get some rest.”

  Marie yawned again. “Very well, my lady.” She curtsied, then left for the maid’s quarters in the adjoining anteroom.

  With practiced fingers, Alicia wove her wavy hair into one long braid down her back. She smiled, invigorated by the memory of Dalton’s proud gaze at her triumph. Who would have thought she could enjoy herself with Dalton’s mother and her friends in the same room? Yet she had, thanks to Dalton.

  After the maid left, Alicia changed into the cotton shirt and leather breeches. She pulled on her boots, then tiptoed down the back stairs through the gardens toward the stables.

  When she entered Bashshar’s stall, the stallion tossed his majestic head in welcome. “Good morning, beauty,” she said, patting the stallion’s black satiny neck. He nuzzled under her arm while she snapped the lead to his halter. When she led him into the paddock, the horse suddenly whinnied nervously, tossing his head.

  Alicia glanced around, but no one was there. She felt disheartened. For the past few days, she had been able to move the horse into the open paddock without the stallion reacting in panic. Just then, a cloaked figure, wearing a maroon cape and hood, slipped around the side of the stable into view.

  At first Alicia was relieved to see a logical reason for Bashshar’s alarm, but when the woman threw back the woolen hood, Alicia recognized Elizabeth. Her mouth looked hard in her unsmiling face.

  Elizabeth scowled. “I have something I wish to say to you,” she said, her voice shrill.

  Bashshar tossed his head as though he might rear. Alicia wasn’t certain she could control the animal. “Easy, love,” she crooned softly, stroking the animal’s neck. She turned toward Elizabeth. “Please, step back, Elizabeth, so I can put Bashshar back in his stall, then we can talk.”

  “There’s no need,” she answered. “I’m not afraid of him.”

  Bashshar’s ears flattened, his eyes were ringed in white. “You should be,” Alicia said, her voice even despite her concern. “I can’t handle the horse if you don’t step out of his line of vision. Get back, I say.”

  “Not until I’ve said what I came here to say.” Elizabeth’s neck fasteners loosened on her cape, opening to reveal a lime-green gown of tissue chiffon. It appeared she was still wearing her ball gown from last night.

  Alicia clenched her fingers beneath Bashshar’s halter and stroked his neck. “Very well, but speak in an even, low voice.”

  Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “You’ll not give me orders.”

  Bashshar tossed his head, almost lifting Alicia with him.

  “You might marry Dalton, but you’ll never keep him. Everyone knows Dalton enjoys his little jokes, but choosing a stable girl as his bride is really too hilarious.”

  Alicia stiffened. “Now that you’ve had your say, please leave. You’re upsetting Bashshar.”

  “I’ll take care of Bashshar,” she said. From the corner of her eye, Alicia saw Elizabeth withdraw a coiled whip from the folds of her cape. Bashshar saw it and reared, screaming.

  “Elizabeth, step away,” Alicia ordered, trying to hold on to the lead but knowing she wasn’t strong enough.

  Elizabeth drew back her hand, the leather whip singing through the air in a dangerous arc, missing Alicia and the horse’s face by inches. Alicia released the animal’s lead and threw herself at Elizabeth, trying to tear the whip from her.

  “Let go of me!” Elizabeth cried, stumbling to the ground. Alicia bent over her and wrestled her for the leather coil, but Elizabeth refused to let go. Bashshar screamed again in outrage, and Alicia knew that the animal might kill to protect her.

  Alicia grabbed hold of Elizabeth’s hair and yanked her out of the way just seconds before Bashshar’s deadly hooves pounded into the ground where Elizabeth had been.

  Dust stung Alicia’s eyes and filled her mouth as she pulled Elizabeth safely out of the stallion’s reach. Elizabeth’s fingers clawed at her side, as though unaware of the danger. Finally, Alicia yanked the whip from Elizabeth’s grasp.

  Elizabeth sat up and slapped Alicia alongside the face. “That beast should be put down. He tried to kill me!”

  Alicia pulled her hair from her face, then ran toward the horse. Bashshar dashed wildly back and forth, screaming.

  “You should know better than to draw a whip on an animal,” Alicia said, trying to keep her voice low.

  Elizabeth stood on wobbly legs. “I had to protect myself. Everyone knows that Bashshar has gone crazy. If you really knew anything about horses, you’d put the beast out of its misery.”

  “Wait here. I need to calm him down.” Alicia’s tone of voice gave no quarter. Instead, Elizabeth refused, and ran alongside.

  “Get back, you fool,” Alicia ordered. “If he decides to run at you, there’s nothing I can do.”

  “I can do something,” Elizabeth fired back. “I’ll have the stable master put him down.”

  “Elizabeth, get back inside the stable,” Alicia said. Bashshar bared his teeth, ears flat. There was murder in his eyes.

  Alicia stood, shoulders back, and looked him straight in the eyes. “Easy, easy,” she said, lowering her arms to her side, her hands hidden. She spoke softly, never taking her eyes from him. The massive stallion tossed his head, shivering, but within minutes, was under control. Finally, the horse trotted over to her, and she hugged his neck. “It’s going to be all right, Bashshar. All right.”

  Alicia led the horse into the stable. She walked him inside the box stall, turned him to face the door, released the lead, then slowly backed out of the stall. With a feeling of relief, she slid the bolt across the lock.

  A few minutes later, Alicia shut the stable gate and stepped into the sunlit paddock. She found Elizabeth still waiting by the fence. “Elizabeth, if you ever do that again, I’ll ask Dalton never to allow you ne
ar the stables, do you understand me?”

  “You think you’ve won, don’t you?” Elizabeth’s angry gaze raked over her. “Well, I’m here to tell you that your trick won’t work, Miss Spencer.”

  Confused, Alicia strode near her and wrapped her arm around the fence post. “What trick?”

  “You know what I’m talking about. I’m referring to last night when you forged the note saying that Dalton was waiting for me in his coach.” She tilted her chin, her green eyes narrowed. “How convenient that your lover was available to help with your plan.”

  Alicia shook her head. “What are you talking about? What lover?”

  Elizabeth sniffed. “Justin Sykes, as if you didn’t know.”

  “You’re talking nonsense, Elizabeth. I really don’t—”

  “Save your lies, Miss Spencer.” She pushed a stray lock from her cheek. “Dalton will learn the truth, and when he hears that you had Justin kidnap and hold me at the gamekeeper’s cottage, he’ll realize what a vicious little guttersnipe you really are.”

  Alicia could hardly believe her ears. “Are you saying that Justin Sykes kidnapped you last night?”

  Elizabeth’s lips thinned. “Don’t pretend that innocent act with me. When I tell the dowager duchess—”

  “I suggest you do just that,” Alicia said, suddenly aware of why Dalton was so positive that Elizabeth wouldn’t be at the ball. How could Dalton be so thoughtless? She turned toward the stable door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Elizabeth, there’s something I must do.”

  Elizabeth reached out and grabbed Alicia’s arm. “Don’t turn your back on me. Our conversation is finished when I dismiss you.”

  “I haven’t time for polite formality,” Alicia said, yanking her wrist free. She stormed inside the stable and didn’t stop until she reached Cinnamon Rose’s stall. Opening the door, she threw a saddle across the mare’s back. Anger and outrage flared as she realized what Dalton had done to keep Elizabeth from the ball. Perhaps Elizabeth was spoiled and willful, but she had feelings, just as everyone else. Two wrongs don’t make a right.

  When she had finished saddling the horse, she led the mare into the paddock. Relieved to see that Elizabeth had finally left, Alicia hesitated a few minutes to steady her nerves. Her knees felt like jelly and her hands were shaking. Her clothes were dirty and her left shoulder seam was ripped from scuffling with Elizabeth, but she knew what she must do. Climbing onto the mare’s back, she rode astride toward the manor house.

  “His Lordship is not in,” Ives intoned in a deep monotone, his gray eyes staring at an imaginary fixture above her head.

  “Then where is he?” Alicia insisted, thankful it was still too early for the houseguests to be awake and catch sight of her standing in the middle of the great hall, still disheveled from her ordeal with Elizabeth. Although Ives must have noticed, he gave no outward sign.

  “I imagine his lordship is where one might usually find him at this hour, miss.” Ives’s face remained emotionless.

  Alicia wondered if Ives enjoyed giving roundabout answers. “And where would that be, Ives?”

  “In his quarters, miss.”

  Alicia hid her growing frustration as she eyed the old servant. Obviously he knew that, very soon, she would become the new mistress of Havencrest, and he might be testing her. “And just where are his quarters, Ives? I wish to know so I can send one of the grooms from Marston Heath to His Lordship. I hear your master is looking to interview a new valet.”

  Ives’s surprised gaze met hers for a fraction of a second before his features schooled back into bored unconcern. “His Lordship is staying at the hunting lodge, my lady. Shall I send a groom to show you the way?” A corner of his mouth lifted.

  “That won’t be necessary. I know the way. Thank you, Ives.” She heard his dry chuckle as she turned toward the front door.

  Alicia rode Cinnamon Rose across the fields, the mare’s long legs covering the distance in smooth, graceful strides. She drew back on the reins when they approached the stream near the stone, thatched cottage she had seen so many mornings while out riding. A trace of gray smoke curled from the chimney. She dismounted, then tied the animal to the trunk of a nearby ash tree.

  A whinny in the distance brought her attention to the attached shed where a white-faced, largeboned chestnut gelding stood. She recognized the horse as one Dalton favored. She braced herself as she strode toward the hunting lodge door. She knocked, her pulse hammering.

  “Come in, Alicia,” Dalton said when he opened the door. He must have seen her arrive because he didn’t appear surprised to see her. “Visiting your fiancé without notice and unchaperoned is frowned upon by the ton, my dear.” His lips lifted into a crooked smile. “But most welcomed by me,” he added, his eyes twinkling. His gaze took in her appearance. “If the ton were to see how lovely you look in breeches, Alicia, the fashion would become London’s latest vogue.”

  Alicia ignored the compliment as she stepped inside. She removed her riding gloves and glanced about the room. Mounted stag heads and stuffed falcons in flight peered down upon several walls lined with books. An overstuffed sofa and several chairs surrounded the granite fireplace that ran the length of room. Simple, yet very masculine.

  “And to what do I owe the honor of your visit?” Dalton asked, and she realized he had been staring at her. He motioned for her to have a seat.

  Alicia held back her anger. “Elizabeth just called upon me, and she had an interesting story to tell.”

  “I prefer not to bring the servants while I stay here, so I’m unprepared for company. Forgive my manners, but I’m afraid I keep no form of refreshment other than cigars, whiskey and brandy.” He lifted a brow as he gestured to the crystal liquor decanters along the sideboard. “A bit early in the day for you, perhaps?”

  She refused to be distracted. “Is it true?” She sank down in the wingback chair beside the fireplace and glared at him. “Did you ask Elizabeth to meet you last night, then arrange for Justin Sykes to kidnap her?”

  “Kidnap her?” Dalton appeared surprised, then shrugged. “You obviously already believe her. What do you want from me?”

  Tell me that Elizabeth had lied. How she wanted to believe that Elizabeth had exaggerated, but she needed to hear the truth. “I want to hear what happened in your own words.”

  He took a deep breath and leaned against the back of the sofa. “I sent Elizabeth a note. I asked her to meet me in my private coach. Although I suggested nothing about what would happen once she arrived there, I knew what she would think. And yes, I arranged for Justin to be waiting for her.

  She felt struck down as the last shreds of hope fell away. “How could you?” she whispered.

  He studied her for a few moments before speaking. “Justin Sykes is my friend. Regardless of his reputation, which I think is mostly unfounded, I trust him. I know Justin would do nothing to comprimise Elizabeth, regardless of what she says.” His voice was soft and gentle. “I knew of no other way to prevent her from being embarrassed when our engagement was announced. Besides, she might have created a scene.” He gave her a pleading look.

  Alicia refused to be put off. “Do you have any idea how frightened Elizabeth must have been? She might have believed you were being held for ransom, or maybe killed. She might have been afraid for her life.”

  Dalton’s mouth lifted slightly. “I’m certain if the situation were reversed, Elizabeth wouldn’t be so thoughtful of your feelings.”

  Alicia took a deep breath. “That has nothing to do with it. She’s obviously in love with you, Dalton, and you’ve treated her abominably.”

  Dalton glanced out the window to where Cinnamon Rose grazed peacefully in the morning sunlight. “Yes, I believe I did.” He met her gaze with a look of contrition. “What do you want me to do?”

  She was surprised by his sudden turnabout, and she wasn’t sure how to answer. “You might at least dignify the situation with the truth,” she said after a short pause. “Elizabeth believes the idea wa
s mine—that I put Sykes up to it.”

  Dalton shook his head and smiled. He rose, strode to the hearth and tossed another log on the fire. “Elizabeth will believe what she wants to believe.” He looked at her sidelong. “When she comes to her senses, she’ll look at the note and realize the handwriting is mine.” He returned to the sofa and sat down across from her. “I had arranged for Justin Sykes to stay with Elizabeth for more than one reason.” He draped one arm across the back of the sofa and absently stroked the polished wood.

  Her gaze followed the play of muscles of his forearms under his white sleeve, and she was reminded of the wondrous feelings she had when he held her in those arms last night on the veranda. She wanted to curl up beside him and feel his strong, protective embrace once again.

  She mentally shook herself. Whatever was wrong with her? She must remember that while he had kissed her passionately last night, Elizabeth was being held against her will by Justin Sykes!

  Dalton’s intense blue eyes studied her. “I had little choice, Alicia. It was the one way my mother would agree to accept you into the family.”

  Alicia gasped. “Your mother knows of this?” The question felt like a brick in her throat. She stared at him as she finally understood the real motive behind his trick. “You’re blackmailing your mother, aren’t you? If she refuses, you’ll threaten to expose Elizabeth as spending the night with Sykes.”

  Dalton lowered his gaze and offered no denial.

  She rose to her feet and made a dash for the door, but he was faster. He caught her by the wrist.

  “Alicia, you’re sweet and innocent. You have no idea the kind of people we’re dealing with.”

  Her eyes narrowed with accusation. “Oh, yes, I do.”

  “Alicia, wait.” He held on to her wrist. “My mother is used to having her way. She won’t rest until I marry Elizabeth, and there was no other way.”