“The Eagle?”
“Yes.” They rode up to the pub, and Liam paid a young boy to take care of their horses. He led her inside and found a table in a back corner. They were soon each brought a tankard of ale, a bowl of lamb stew, and a piece of crusty bread. Liam watched Megan take a hesitant bite of the stew. She seemed to enjoy what she tasted because she quickly tucked into it like a starving man. “I take it you like it?” he asked, chuckling.
“Aye,” she replied, a blush creeping across her cheeks.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I remember you were always a hearty eater.”
“Aye,” she said softly. She played with the stew, stirring it mindlessly with her spoon. She let it rest against the bowl and took a drink of ale.
“You have…” he pointed to his upper lip.
“What?”
“Froth, right here,” he said, reaching over and swiping at the white foam that clung to her sensuous lip. When he touched her, he felt it like a charge of electricity through his body. There was a quickening in that part of him that had been dormant for so long. Excitement coursed through him that he silently exulted in. He watched Megan tear off a piece of bread and dip it in the stew before biting into it. How did she make something so simple as eating appear so sensual?
“Are you feeling well?” Megan asked him.
“Yes.”
“You’re not eating, and if I recall, you were the one that said you were hungry.”
“So I was…am,” he replied, forcing himself to take a large bite of stew followed by a piece of bread. “Eat up,” he encouraged her. “We’ve a long ride ahead of us.”
* * *
Megan shifted in her saddle. She enjoyed riding and racing horses, but she usually ended up back on solid ground after a couple of hours. She had been in the saddle all day, and her body felt it.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.”
“We can stop and stretch our legs.”
“I’d rather keep going.”
“As you wish, my lady,” Liam said.
Megan gritted her teeth. Every time he used her title, it felt like an accusation, as if he were saying she had not waited long enough for him to return. Her anger continued to build within her. They rode on until they came to two signs. One pointed straight ahead and read “Newmarket”. The other pointed to the left and read “Newmarket Racecourse”.
“Stop,” she ordered.
“What is it?”
“I want to see the racecourse.”
“But we’re just…” Liam pointed at the sign for the town.
“What?” Megan arched her brow at him.
“Nothing. Lead on.” He surrendered and held out his hand indicating that she should go forward.
Megan led them down the side road towards the racecourse. She crested a small, rolling hill and saw it spread out below her. Excitement raced through her, making her blood pound.
“Do you see that?”
“What?”
“That’s where Legend’s going to make history.” They sat silently as time slipped by.
“I think we should find a place to stay for the night.”
“Yes.” Megan reluctantly turned her horse to follow Liam. They came to an inn on the edge of town. Megan gratefully lowered herself to the ground. She clung to the saddle until her legs felt more solid beneath her. She gingerly stretched her protesting muscles. “I can’t wait for a soft bed,” she moaned as she followed Liam into the inn.
She watched him sign and pay the innkeeper. She took a key from him and walked upstairs to the room he had secured for her. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said as she inserted the key into the lock, opened the door, and slipped inside. The lock thunked loudly into place, even to her own ears.
* * *
The next morning dawned bright and much earlier than Megan wished. Her sleep had been plagued with images from the past. Feelings coursed through her she thought she had long since buried. She forced herself to get up when all she wanted to do was burrow beneath the blankets and shut out the world. After making quick work of dressing and gathering up her saddlebag, she crossed the room and looked in the mirror. Megan let out a sigh knowing there was nothing she could do to cover up the purple bruises beneath her eyes. She shook her head and made her way downstairs to the common room. She paused when she reached the bottom of the stairs and saw that Liam already sat at a table. Megan took a deep breath and let it go before she crossed the room to join him.
“Good morning,” she said cheerily, plastering a smile on her face.
“Sleep well?” he asked, pushing a cup of strong tea and a plate of dry toast towards her.
“Perfectly.”
“Liar,” he replied.
“You don’t look as if you slept much better.”
“Hmph,” he answered noncommittally.
They sat in silence while she nibbled at the toast and they both drank tea. He had added cream and sugar to hers, turning it a light brown and just sweet enough. She found herself touched that he remembered how she drank it. Stop it, she mentally berated herself, he left you. “I think we should go, don’t you?” she asked, once she finished eating.
“After you,” he stood and moved to help her to stand, but she avoided his touch. He followed her to the stable where they readied their horses.
The two mounted and retraced the route to the racecourse where The Jockey Club was located. They crested the hill, and once again Megan paused. She could just imagine Legend crossing the finish line ahead of all the other horses in the field.
“Megan.” Liam’s voice brought her back to the present.
“Yes, right. Shall we?” She led them down the sloping hill to a building set off to the side. “Hopefully, I’ll only be a few moments,” Megan announced. She slipped to the ground and rummaged through her saddlebag. She pulled out a portfolio and cheerily said, “Wish me luck.” She walked up to the door and knocked. Megan tapped her booted foot as she waited for the door to open.
“You know it might be too early.”
“They’re working horses already this morning,” she said, nodding to the track that was a beehive of activity. “Someone will be here.” She knocked again, her impatience coming through.
A man in a butler uniform answered the door. “May I help you?” he asked pompously.
“I’m here to register a horse.”
“I’m sorry, miss—”
“Lady Dalmore.”
“My apologies, Lady Dalmore,” the man bowed respectfully before continuing, “but ladies are not allowed in the club, nor are they allowed to enter a horse.”
“But Queen Anne raced horses.”
“Yes, my lady, and when you become the queen of England, so can you; however, since I do not foresee that title in your future, I will bid you good day.”
“But…” she jumped as the door was slammed in her face. Megan looked flabbergasted that the butler had actually shut it on her. “Did you see that?” she asked Liam, pointing at the building as she marched towards him.
“Yes,” he chuckled.
“Are you laughing?”
“No,” he tried to deny, but the deep laughter continued to roll out of him.
Megan stopped and stared at him. This was the first time she had heard any type of joy escape from him since his return into her life. “You…you…”
“Yes?” he asked as he dropped his horse’s reins and stalked towards her.
“I can’t believe you’re laughing. This is my dream and they’re stomping it into the ground. Hey, what are you doing?” Megan asked as he stepped past her and took the portfolio from her hands. “Give that back,” she ordered. She watched him flip it open and look through the papers inside. “What do you think you’re doing?” Megan tried to grab the folder from him, but instead he held it out of her reach.
“Do you want your horse to run the English races?”
“Yes.”
“They will not allow a woman to ente
r a horse.”
“Stupid men,” she muttered.
“But they will allow, say, her fiancée.”
“No.”
“Fine. Mount up,” he said as he handed her back the portfolio and walked to his horse.
“Wait,” she said, halting his progress.
“Yes?”
“This is just temporary, correct?”
“Merely an act to see you through the racing season until you can figure out a more permanent solution. You and Hamrick will oversee everything and attend the races. I’ll be working at the training facility. Nothing will change. You go your way and I’ll go mine.”
“Fine. You’re going to need to know specifics about Legend if this is going to work. They’ll ask you questions not just in the paperwork.”
“Educate me,” he prompted.
* * *
The entire time Megan enlightened him on the finer points of Legend and the races he had won in Ireland, he berated himself. Fiancée? he thought incredulously. Are you out of your mind? Several times she had been forced to gather his attention back to the present. You owe her this at the very least.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No.”
“I’ll wait for you here. Good luck.”
He nodded and mounted his horse.
“Don’t forget this,” Megan said, holding out the portfolio for him to take.
Liam approached the club. After he tied Draco to the hitching post, he walked up to the door and straightened his superfine. He knocked firmly and waited for the door to open. He looked up at the hilltop and saw Megan pacing nervously. He knew, not because he could see her well, but from years of experience, that she would be nibbling at her thumbnails, and by the time he reached her they would be nothing but jagged nubs. The door opened at that moment keeping his mind from wondering too far.
“May I help you?”
“I need to register a horse for the racing season.”
“Come in, sir. Right this way.”
The older man led Liam into a large room consisting of dark wood and heavy leather furniture. There were gaming tables scattered about but not overpowering. Paintings of horses hung on the walls. A bar ran the width of the room with bottles of amber liquids sitting on the shelves behind it. Spittoons were scattered amongst the furniture and the smell of cigars and tobacco pipes hung heavily on the air. This was truly a club for gentlemen. He would have to remember every detail so he could describe it to Megan. She would be in her element here. It really was too bad they did not allow women. He fought the smirk that wanted to spread across his lips at that thought.
He met with the secretary of the club, and showed the man the paperwork Megan had given him. Liam answered a few questions the other man had for him and paid a membership fee.
“Mr. McTavish, it has been a pleasure working with you. Here is a packet that will explain everything you need to know. What are the colors of your silks?”
“Yellow, blue and white,” Liam answered.
“Excellent. One last thing, you must accompany your horse to all the races.” The secretary handed Liam an envelope.
“Wait, what did you just say?”
“The owners must be present at all the races. It makes it easier to deal with any issues that should arise.”
“Thank you,” Liam said. He shook the man’s hand before he turned and left the exalted club. He mounted Draco and the pair headed up the hill to Megan.
“Well?” she asked, rushing towards him.
“Calm down. Everything is taken care of. Here is all the information you need to know.” He felt like a tropical bird, repeating the information he had just been given.
Megan took the envelope and ripped it open. He watched her as she skimmed the information.
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” she said. “Thank you.” She held the note to her chest.
“There is one little problem.”
“What’s that?” Megan asked, looking back over the information once more.
“I have to be at all the races.”
“What?!”
“Club requirement.”
“Bloody hell,” Megan muttered.
“My sentiments exactly,” Liam agreed.
Chapter 7
They decided to avoid London on the trip home. An hour after they left Newmarket, they both wished they had stuck to a more well-traveled road. Instead, they were on a country lane that bisected a dense copse of trees. Two men appeared ahead of them. They wore homespun clothing and old hats. Black cloth covered the lower halves of their faces. These were not the elegant highwaymen of romantic tales. These were the desperate men of reality.
“Stand and deliver!” one of the men ordered. Both ruffians held a pistol trained on them.
Liam adjusted Draco so they were between the men and Megan.
“Hand over your valuables and money.” Liam tossed his money pouch to one of the men, and Megan followed suit. “I’ll take that ring, too.”
“But my husband gave me this.”
“And from the feel of this pouch he can buy you another one.”
“But—”
“He’s right, dear, give him the ring.”
Megan tore the item from her finger and slammed it into Liam’s outstretched hand. “Here.” She watched in anger as the man took the ring that John had given her on their wedding day. He bit down on it to see if it was real, and rage rushed through her. She knew that the gold and gems could feed a family for a long while, but it was the sentimentality that was attached to the ring. John had been a good man who had taken her in when she was at her lowest and given her a reason to live when she thought she had none. She blinked furiously to hold the angry tears at bay. She refused to show any weakness in front of these two rabble rousers.
“Thank you, ma’am. Now, if you’ll both be so kind as to dismount and lead your horses over to those trees. That’s right.” He nodded to his partner who quickly dismounted his own nag and grabbed two lengths of rope. The man moved them to where he wanted them. “Now face the tree.” He first tied Liam and then Megan up separately so the rope was pulled taught and they could not undo the knots or reach each other.
“Do you see them?” an unfamiliar voice asked, drifting on the breeze.
Megan looked excitedly at Liam and opened her mouth to find it stuffed with a piece of cloth. The man quickly did the same thing to Liam, before slapping their horses’ rumps and racing to his.
“I think I see something over there,” one of the voices called out.
The two men raced off in separate directions, forcing the search party to split up, ensuring they never were close to finding Megan and Liam. Megan squirmed and made noises as she attempted to get the attention of the men giving chase to the highwaymen. When she realized the sounds of hoofbeats were getting farther away, she rested her head against the rough tree bark in defeat. Not only had she lost her wedding ring, but their horses were gone, as were Legend’s papers. She drew back and kicked the tree in frustration. A few minutes later, a fat raindrop landed on her cheek.
“Nooooo!” she screamed for as loud and as long as she could around the filthy cloth in her mouth. Her silent tantrum did not keep the downpour at bay. The only thing she could be grateful for was that there was no lightning or thunder accompanied the rain. Despite being under a canopy of leaves, in a matter of a few minutes she was completely soaked. She couldn’t even see how Liam fared because they were tied directly behind one another, facing opposite directions. If she ever found those two scurrilous highwaymen they would be sorry they had ever been born. Megan tugged in frustration at her wet bindings causing them to tighten more around her delicate wrists. “Grrrr!” she growled in frustration. She reared back and kicked the tree once more.
“Easy now.”
She jumped when she felt big hands flex at her waist and moist breath against her ear. Megan whipped her head around and saw Liam, free, and moving around the tree with a knife in his
hand. She shook her head and made all different noises to get his attention. He pulled the rope away from the tree and sawed through it. She pulled against her restraints until the rope snapped and she unceremoniously fell backwards into a large puddle of mud. Megan pushed herself up and ripped the filthy cloth from her mouth as deep, male laughter reached her ears.
“Are you going to just stand there and laugh, or are you going to help me up?”
“You were the impatient one that caused yourself to be in your current situation.”
“Just never mind,” she said trying to get enough purchase to see herself out of the mud hole.
“Here.”
She looked up and saw Liam’s proffered hand hovering in front of her face. She ungraciously took it. When she once more stood upright, she fought with the knots.
“Allow me.” He sheathed the knife and worked at the knots, loosening them. Once he had them free he took her wrists and gently rubbed them, causing the blood to rush back into her hands and fingers.
“Ouch.” She winced as it felt like hundreds of pins pricking her fingers and hand.
“How’s this?” Liam asked as he massaged her hands.
“Better,” she said, a smile flirting on her lips. She looked up at him and was mesmerized by his beautiful blue eyes rimmed with dark lashes. Those eyes still caused her stomach to flip in excitement. Liam’s hand left hers and cupped her face as his thumb gently rubbed back and forth along the apple of her cheek. Before she realized it, she stood on her tiptoes to meet his lips as they descended downward.
Megan could not hold back the moan when their lips touched. She felt him try to pull away, but halted his progress by hooking her arm about his neck. When he tried to make the kiss chaste, Megan would have none of it. She had dreamed of his touch, his kisses, for five long, lonely years. Touches and kisses she thought to never feel again. The rain camouflaged the tears of joy that raced down her face. Megan pressed her body close to his and threaded her fingers through his silky, wet hair.
* * *
“Stop,” Liam ordered. He placed his hands on Megan’s shoulders and pushed her away even as he took a step back.
Enticing the Weary Warrior Page 8