A Pair of Rogues

by Patricia Wynn

  Ned emerged and, with his body completely in shadow, approached the curricle. He held out both his arms.

  Christina dropped their provisions down to him, then descended with the assistance of his hand.

  Inside, the barn was both airy and cozy, with last year's hay scattered across the floor. A pair of working horses occupied two stalls in the corner. They snorted and jerked their heads at the intrusion. The lantern Ned had lit was swinging slightly from a hook suspended from the central beam. Its warming rays swept in and out of the corners.

  Ned left Christina in charge of the food, while he unhitched his horses and brought them inside for a rubbing down. They had already walked off their heat, so he permitted them to nibble at the feed and drink water from a bucket as he briskly stroked their legs with straw.

  Christina spread one of the coverlets down on a broad expanse of hay. Then, she delved into the basket and found a large hunk of cheese, a good loaf of bread, and a knife for both, two plain mugs, and the brown jug of ale.

  She had barely laid out this simple picnic when Ned joined her, throwing himself to lie down facing her with his shoulders propped on one elbow.

  “You appear to have found a generous farmer,” she said, handing him a length of bread. She could see that he was trying not to grin as he shook his head. “It is amazing how generous men become when they are paid three times what their goods are worth."

  “Oh,” was all she could think to say.

  “Yes. Yon farmer was inclined to believe there was something havey-cavey in the notion of a person of quality desiring his barn for the night. I told him what I thought was a plausible tale of a sporting event and no rooms available, but he preferred to think the worst. Fortunately, I did not give him my genuine name, or I fear my reputation would be even more blackened than it already is."

  “But he does not know you have a lady with you!"

  “No, that he doesn't. He thinks you are my groom.” Ned's smile held a secret she did not think she should ask to have clarified. Somehow, however, that smile raised a blush to her cheeks.

  His teasing gaze shifted to the ale. He filled his mug and hers, before he said, “Would you now care to tell me what this prank was all about?"

  Christina's throat closed up. She nearly choked on a clump of cheese. She had given astonishingly little thought to what she would say; however, she excused herself on the notion that time had been so short. She had not had enough of it to form her story.

  That left her nothing but the truth.

  She could not quite meet Ned's gaze, when she said, “Louisa said you had been so overturned by Robert's accusations, which she knew as well as I to be in error, that she was afraid you would do something rash."

  “Oh?"

  “Yes, she was afraid you would go on a sort of rampage, as it were. Do dangerous things, I suppose. Things you might later regret."

  “What sort of things did Louisa have in mind?"

  Unmistakable amusement tinged his voice. Christina peered through the lantern light to find him staring at her with his cheeks taut as if one more word would send him into a gale of laughter.

  At the sight of his extreme enjoyment, frustration spurred her tongue. “How am I supposed to know what things? Rakish things, I suppose!"

  “You mean like saturnalian orgies, where the wine flows freely and bare-breasted nymphs dance on the table?"

  “Do you deny it?” She poked her chin into the air. “You were taking Levington along with you, too. Considering the number of times you have warned me of the evil to be associated with that gentleman, I find it strange that you would seek his company if you did not have some similar entertainment in mind."

  “Of course. And I am to thank Louisa for inspiring you to come along on our jaunt. Did she think you would wish to play a nymph?"

  Indignation, like a rising head of steam, came bursting from her lips. “I did not wish to be one of your nymphs! I meant to stop you from making such a cake of yourself! However, if you'd rather be an ass, you may simply leave me here. I am quite certain I can find my way back to London"

  Ned laughed and laughed so hard he had to roll over on his back. Rising to her knees, Christina tried to maintain an air of offended dignity, but his laughter was too infectious. She could not help wishing she could touch his face and feel his deep, delicious humor spreading through her own body.

  His reaction had to mean that Louisa had misjudged his intentions. Either that, or he found the notion of her stopping him vastly amusing.

  “Was that not your intention, then?” she finally asked, sitting back on her heels to gaze down on him.

  Ned stayed where he was in the hay with one arm crooked under his head. His eyes held a softer glow.

  “No, I did not plan to go to the devil as you feared. But you would have stopped me? Why?"

  Christina felt a lump that teased and tickled her throat, making it hard to talk. She quickly turned away. Her pulse was humming like a frenzied ocean wave.

  “Then, Louisa must have been mistaken.” She ignored his question as she gathered up the cheese and untouched bread.

  “Was she? I wonder. Still, I'm surprised to hear she sent you on such a dangerous mission."

  Christina had been trying to pick up the knife, but the low seductive note in Ned's voice made her fingers feel clumsy.

  “Louisa did not send me,” she said, her voice small.

  There was a long silence, before Ned raised himself to one elbow again. She felt the pressure of his relentless gaze as he studied her face.

  After a moment, she said, “Why are you staring at me so? Are you thinking what a mess I look?"

  “No. I'm thinking how beautiful your skin is in the lantern light.

  “Christina, come here,” he said softly.

  She swallowed. Putting down the knife she'd so foolishly gathered, she awkwardly crawled to sit near the place where his hand rested on the quilt.

  “Look at me, Christina."

  Slowly, she raised her lashes to meet his gaze.

  Instead of the mocking humor she'd half expected to find, she saw a loving tenderness she had never seen in his eyes before. Her lips parted on a sigh as Ned reached one hand to cup her face.

  He brought her down onto the hay beside him and covered half her body with his own. He gently stroked her hair, watching each smooth, straight piece as it fell through his fingers.

  “Don't let my laughter disturb you,” he whispered, his gaze drifting back across her features to caress her eyes and her lips. “You may yet prove to be my salvation."

  Christina welcomed his kiss with every fiber of her being. She purred as his lips met hers and his gentle hands moved over her. Alternately gathering her body for a deeper embrace and freeing his hand to run his fingers over her cheek, her head, her throat, and her eyelids, Ned made gentle love to her.

  She wanted to drown in his affection, to lose herself in his rising need, to forget all that she had ever been and never would be again.

  In him, she sensed a similar wonder. A bright, new beginning which could never be sullied by memories of his past. To her, his past meant nothing except for that moment long ago, when he had held her on his lap and whispered comfort into her ears, when he had taught her the meaning of kindness. And now, she felt herself hurtling back into that memory as if a bird were flying her home, back to a time before her aching restlessness had ever begun.

  “Christina.” He breathed her name on an ecstatic moan.

  It made her smile, and she stretched like a cat.

  “Christina, my love, I have to get you back to London intact, but if you continue to move like that, it will be more difficult than I care to admit."

  “Intact?” With a questioning tilt of her head, she sought his eyes.

  “Yes. Undefiled."

  His lopsided grin, and its accompanying rueful look, made her chuckle. With a disappointed sigh, she said, “If you insist."

  He heaved a sigh, too, and she delighted in its u
nsteadiness. She would never doubt that their embrace had affected him as much as it had her.

  Ned left her in the straw while he corked the ale they had barely touched and covered the remaining food. Then, he stood and smothered the light.

  In a moment, Christina felt him kneel down beside her and cover her with a quilt. He lay down a few inches away, but she quickly closed them, snuggling into his shoulder. Although he wrapped one arm about her, she felt him tense.

  After a while, he cleared his throat and she listened as he said, “You know what Robert will expect of us both now?"

  His choice of words brought her up short. With a sense of deflation, she said, “I suppose I do."

  “And you would have no objection?"

  His even asking made her wonder what objections had come into his mind. Fear of these, when she had been so certain he, like she, had embraced the notion of marriage with joy, made her respond with her former wariness. “Must we go through with it? I had no intention of forcing you into marriage when I came."

  His pat on the shoulder reassured her that, at least, he did not suspect her of that. “Nevertheless,” he said, “we must pay the piper."

  He cleared his throat again. “I shall try to make a good husband, Christina."

  The strain in his voice nearly broke her heart. What could it mean, but that, in spite of the passion they'd shared, the thought of being bound to her still gave him pause?

  “I know you would,” she said, endeavoring to conceal her hurt beneath a practical tone. “But, who knows? If no one but my family ever learns of this mishap, maybe you will not be trapped."

  “I can think of much worse things,” he said, but his sober timbre revealed nothing of his feelings.

  “I agree. But shouldn't we wait to see what happens tomorrow?"

  “I suppose so."

  * * * *

  As Ned lay there that night, pondering the regrets she must harbor for having put herself in such a hapless situation, he felt her move away from his arm. A blast of cool air filled the spot she had occupied, chilling him to the bone.

  Was he not to lie every night with Christina beside him as he'd dared to hope?

  All, it seemed, would depend upon Robert and his opinion of Ned.

  Chapter Twelve

  Robert discovered Christina's absence when he and Louisa sat down to a late dinner. He had not complained about the hour, for the cook had been instructed to prepare his favorite roasted capons with a truffle sauce.

  “Where is Christina?” he finally asked when, after a polite wait, she did not appear.

  “I am not sure,” Louisa said, nervously applying herself to the asparagus soup. “She asked to spend the afternoon with a friend she met at school. I had expected her to be back before now, but Marston says there has been no sign of her."

  Robert hitched his brows. “Have you sent a footman round to collect her?"

  “No.” Louisa glanced at him contritely. “I am greatly afraid that I have forgotten the name of the friend she went to see."

  “Good gracious!” He fell back against his chair. “Did you say she went alone?"

  “No, of course not! She took her maid."

  “But you must remember the chit's name!"

  “I know I cannot."

  “Well, think. Was it Jane—Marie—Henrietta?” He kept reciting names, growing more worried by the second.

  Louisa had hoped to get through dinner before Robert began examining her or grew this agitated. She had hoped the roasted capons would do the trick, but now saw that was not to be.

  To put a halt to this torture, she played her next card. “Perhaps Marston will remember where she said she was going."

  Robert's frown spoke volumes. “I should have thought you would have questioned him before.” In a tone of wearying patience, he added, “Let's have him in."

  Louisa rang for their major domo. She knew from experience that any conversation with Marston would take up more time than it ought, due to the exaggerated dignity of his speech.

  Nevertheless, Robert's queries to his butler occupied no more than a quarter of an hour, still leaving the whole of the night ahead.

  Marston could not remember the name of the young female the Lady Christina had gone to see, however, he could state that her ladyship's maid had returned just after five of the clock. She had taken a tray upstairs, leading Marston to suppose that his Grace's sister had made her way back into the house somehow without his knowledge.

  “Perhaps she's in her room, then,” Louisa said smiling.

  “And not coming down at the gong? If that is so,” Robert huffed, “then she is being abominably rude not to have sent us word.” He eyed the tempting capons Marston placed before him at Louisa's request, but he refused to be distracted. “Let's have this maid of hers down, shall we?"

  “Before we finish dinner? It will be quite ruined if we wait."

  “Christina could very well be ruined if she proves to be missing!"

  “Robert!” Louisa's shocked whisper, accompanied by a glance their servant's way, served to remind him to be discreet.

  “Very well, then,” he grumbled, but she could see that nothing would appease him. “It can wait that long, I suppose."

  They ate hurriedly, with Robert declining any port after dinner, before he insisted on calling Christina's maid down to the drawing room.

  Mary met them there, the fright on her young, round face enough to confirm Robert's worst suspicions. In a trembling voice, she confessed that Lady Christina had undertaken a prank, that she had thought to be back long before dinner, but had never returned.

  “What was the nature of this prank?” Robert's restraint was near to bursting.

  Tearily, Mary informed him of Ned's tiger, the clothes she had procured for her mistress, and the last she had seen of her riding away on the back of Lord Windermere's curricle.

  “Windermere?” Sinking into a chair, Robert clapped both hands over his eyes. “She is ruined! My sister is completely and irretrievably ruined."

  “That will be all, thank you, Mary.” Louisa shooed the girl out with an admonishment to keep the story to herself. Then, with a contriteness, she did not have to fabricate, she hastened to her husband and took up his hand.

  “Do not be distressed, my dearest. I am certain everything will turn out right."

  “I told Ned to stay away from Christina, but he must have gone against my wishes. It is clear he persuaded her to run away with him."

  “No, no!” Louisa cried. “I am sure you are wrong. You heard what Mary said. Ned knew nothing of Christina's intentions."

  “But what could have possessed her to do such a wayward thing?"

  “Well, as to that...” Louisa knew it was time to take her portion of the blame. This was the moment she had been dreading. “I am terribly afraid that something I said might have put the notion into her head."

  Robert dropped his hand from his eyes and, with a look of increasing dread, raised them to scrutinize her face. “Louisa, what have you done?"

  “Oh, Robert. You mustn't look at me with such suspicion. If I said anything to lead Christina to ruin, I am most heartily sorry. But I cannot believe it will come to that.”

  “It has already come to that."

  “Now, Robert. I honestly think he loves her, and if that is so, surely he will do nothing to harm her."

  “Ned, in love with my sister? Or anyone? He doesn't know the meaning of the word."

  “I do think he loves her. And she him!"

  “Then she must be ruined. Have they gone to Gretna Green? Or is it something worse?"

  A look of hope crossed Louisa's face. “Oh, do you think they might have gone to Gretna? That would account for her being so late! I had not thought of that."

  Robert gave a snort of disgust. “Yes, I suppose we must hope he has taken her to Gretna and not simply ravished her instead. But you have not told me yet what you said to make her go off on such a start."

  Recalled to her own crim
es, Louisa inwardly grimaced. “I merely told her that Ned had been here and that I was afraid his disappointment would drive him back into his old ways. Which was true! I have been afraid he might eventually drink himself to death or break his neck in a carriage race if he does not settle down."

  “You must have said more than that."

  “Well, perhaps, she thought I meant he was in immediate danger. Which he might have been, which is probably why she went to save him now."

  “Louisa, surely Ned told you he was taking Levington on a shooting trip."

  Louisa felt the color draining from her face. Her fingers flew to her mouth. “Levington was to go along? Oh, dear! I quite see now why Christina did not come back after speaking to Ned."

  “Do you? Then you have a sharper mind than I.” Robert stood abruptly and started for the door. “I shall have to track them down."

  “But Robert"—Louisa ran after him and attached his arm—"how can you leave when we don't know where they've gone? They could be anywhere between here and Scotland."

  He looked down at her impatiently. “Do you expect me to do nothing?"

  “No, but first we must give them a chance to return. They may be on their way back right now. Surely, if Christina's intention had been to go to Scotland, she would have left us a note."

  Robert raked a hand roughly through his fair hair. He was clearly muddled as to the course he should take. “I could travel up to Ned's estate. See if they've stopped there."

  “I cannot believe they have gone so far, but perhaps Ned did not discover her until they were far outside London. In that case, he might have taken her up into Yorkshire, although I am inclined to think he will bring her back just as soon as he can."

  “That's what an honorable person would do,” Robert said with doubt.

  “Then, we must put our faith in Ned."

  “Faith in Ned! Have you lost your mind completely, Louisa?"

  She drew herself up and dropped her hold on his sleeve. Her eyes filled with moisture.

  “There, there,” Robert said, patting her shoulder awkwardly. “I did not mean to snap at you so, but all along I have wondered at your trust in those two. They have never merited it, and only see what has happened now."