by Jo Goodman
"My word," said Nigel solemnly. "She is yours until the gala is over, of course."
"Of course. I have no desire to steal her from you."
"I feel I must point out that you have to find her first."
Jericho's even teeth glowed white in the moonlight. "I already have. Miss McClellan, you may come down. And if you have a mind to hesitate, you will have to choose between Newbrough and me, for I hear him coming now."
Rahab also heard the earl's noisy approach as he returned to the site where he had found the lace. There was no choice to be made, but she was afraid Nigel would suspect something if she went too easily to Jericho.
"She's not a willing wench," the duke said. "She has a mind of her own."
"I thought as much when I followed Newbrough out the front gate. It struck me odd that she would even suggest a hunt at night, though I suspect she envisioned some other woman as the prey. No matter, I look forward to having the taming of her." Jericho urged his horse around and forward, stopping when he came to the base of Rae's tree. Grasping a sturdy lower limb, he gracefully pulled himself up into the boughs. In a matter of seconds he was at Rae's side. "There is no choice. None. You must come with me. I fear the others would have found you."
From Nigel's point of view it appeared Jericho was whispering encouragement in Rae's ear. "Have done with it, man. Get her down from there."
"I cannot come without a fight," Rae whispered back, ignoring Nigel.
"Flail away. I won't let you fall." He wrapped her waist firmly in one arm and made to lift her from her branch.
Rae took Jericho at his word and fought him in earnest, frustration at being captured so close to her goal making her arms work like small windmills. Her fists pummeled his shoulders and back and she landed several painful blows on his legs with her feet. It was only when she realized part of her enjoyed the one-sided battle that she was careful to miss more often than she connected.
"What is toward?" Newbrough demanded sharply as he reined in his horse beside Nigel's. His anger mounted as he was forced to watch helplessly while Jericho dragged Rahab from the tree. "You said I could have her!" he hissed.
"I cannot help it that you could not find her. You must have passed right beneath her if you came this way."
The earl did not care for having his failure pointed out to him. "I want her, Nigel."
"Call him out. Say you found her first and he took her from you. I'll support you."
Newbrough snorted in derision. "Think I am such a fool as that? It would suit you very well if I were to get myself killed in a duel." He dismissed the duke and turned his attention on Jericho as Rae was finally subdued. "Do you truly suppose she is worth the trouble?"
Jericho shrugged. "It is apparent you think she is, my lord. That was the only recommendation I required." He urged his horse forward until he was beside the earl. The hand that lay casually at Rae's waist slid possessively to the underside of her breast. "I shall try not to spoil her for you, Newbrough."
"You conceited lout!" Rae spit, twisting in Jericho's arms in an effort to free herself. "I want none of you! You are not a whit better than the company you keep! Put me down!"
"I'd advise you to consider your alternatives." Rahab quieted instantly. "The lady has made her decision, Newbrough. I bid you good evening." Jericho gave his horse a kick and started off in the direction of the road. The hand that had rested beneath her breast slid back to her waist. "I am sorry for the crude display," he said stiffly. A litany of curses rang in his head as he held her loosely in one arm and wished he could offer the comfort of two. He willed himself not to be moved by the fragrance of her hair as soft strands of it swept across his mouth. "It seemed necessary to convince Newbrough that I mean to keep you."
Rae shifted in the saddle so that she could see Jericho's profile. It appeared harsh and unyielding in the moonlight, as if sculpted from white marble, and retained all the warmth one might expect from that stone. She could find no cause for his coldness other than in response to something she had done. "Are you angry with me?" she asked.
"No."
"I see," she said in a tone that clearly showed she did not. "Did I hurt you when you pulled me from the tree? I thought to make it a realistic straggle, but I confess in part I wanted to strike you."
If anything his profile became bleaker. "Don't refine upon it. I deserved it and more." Behind him he could hear the duke and Newbrough following, and he urged his mount to a quicker pace. "Red, do you understand what awaits us when we return to Linfield? It was no mere search party the duke sent for you. He covered your disappearance by beginning the hunt."
She looked away from his face, unable to meet his grim glance. "I thought as much," she whispered. It was difficult to swallow and her throat felt raw when touched by the cold night air. "Do you think I shall have to wear the collar?"
"I shouldn't be surprised," said Jericho tightly. "But there is another matter that should concern you more. By capturing you I have claimed the right to have you in my bed."
"Any other man would have said he had claimed the right to bed me. I thank you for making that distinction."
"You don't have to worry that I'll touch you, Red. I wanted you to know that before we arrived. In front of the others I may have no choice but to treat you in a certain manner; in private you will choose how you wish to be treated. I won't let any harm befall you at my hands or the hands of others."
"I believe you." Her slender fingers slipped from beneath her pelisse and covered his hand holding the reins. "I truly do believe you."
Jericho would have liked to have pulled her closer then, feeling the narrow contours of her back against his chest, and offer more than the protection of his promises. He leashed the impulse, afraid that in spite of her confidence Rae would misinterpret his gesture.
After leaving his horse at the stables, Jericho escorted Rae across Linfield's wide lawn, their steps dogged by Nigel and Charles. At the entrance they caught up to him, handed their cloaks to Stephens, whose daring disapproval was wasted because no one gave him a glance, and followed Jericho into the library.
Newbrough poured a stiff drink immediately upon entering and nursed it while watching Jericho offer Rahab a chair with a solicitousness that set his teeth on edge. "There's no need to grovel for her, man. She's yours. You could take her now, and no one would stop you."
Jericho straightened, his eyes pinning the earl to the wall. "Is that why you followed me? Had you hoped I might flip up her skirts and have at her here?" Jericho laughed. "I admit to wanting her, but not so much that I will entertain an audience." He turned his back on the earl, dismissing him, and addressed Rae. "Would you care for a drink?"
Rae shook her head. The look that she saw pass between Nigel and Newbrough made her mute. It struck her that Newbrough intended to be privy to what happened in her bedchamber. She nearly disgraced herself by being ill at that moment.
Jericho eyed her keenly, wondering what had brought on her sudden pallor, but a small negative movement of her hand told him to dismiss his inquiry. He moved away from her and poured his own drink, offering one to the duke.
Nigel refused. "You must excuse me for a moment. I wish to make my other guests aware the hunt is over."
As soon as he left the room Newbrough spoke up. "I want her, Adams. She was promised to me."
"That is unfortunate. But for the time allowed by the rules of this game, she is mine. I have no intentions of giving her up." As Jericho talked he stepped closer to Rae, until he stood at the back of her chair.
"You do well to guard your captive," Newbrough said sneeringly. "Any man can challenge for her until she wears the collar. That is also part of the rules."
The loud report of a pistol firing somewhere on the grounds startled Rae. It seemed that even before she jumped Jericho's hand was on her shoulder, calming her. "I think that is our host's signal the game is at an end," he told her. When he gave his attention back to the earl, he did not remove his hand but allowed hi
s fingers to insinuate themselves intimately in the neckline of Rae's blouse. It was a gesture of ownership and had but one purpose: to remind Newbrough that he had been bested again. "Do you wish to challenge me, my lord? I doubt that I would kill you, for it would deny me the pleasure of wresting the title of Stanhope from your hands. But wounding you? Now that would be something to savor. Mayhap I would allow Miss McClellan to choose where the lead ball should lodge. Though the lady has no liking for me, I think she has even less for you. What say you, Newbrough? Shall I find my seconds?"
Rather than answer, Charles Newbrough flung his empty glass at the hearth and stalked from the room.
Rae drew an uneven breath. "I fear you are goading him beyond reason. He may not say nay to your next challenge."
"Do you think I care?" demanded Jericho in a strangled whisper. "I would like to strike him down every time his hot glance rests on you." Unwittingly his fingers pressed harshly on her throat, and her small wince made him pull back as if burned. "Forgive me," he groaned feelingly.
There was no time for Rahab to console him, because Nigel returned carrying the collar in one hand. The musical tinkling of its tiny silver bells would have been pleasant had they been meant for any other purpose than to remind everyone that Rahab was naught but a possession.
"Newbrough insisted," said Nigel as he handed the collar, key, and chain to Jericho.
Rahab's laugh was filled with contempt. "Tell your honored guest the truth, your grace. You fully intended that I should wear this bit of jewelry from the beginning. It has always been your determination to shame me."
"Would that it were a muzzle, my dear," the duke said pleasantly, seemingly unperturbed by her vehemence. "It would become you more. Still, it would be better if you entered into the spirit of the thing. Lord Adams has won you fairly."
Rae flinched slightly as Jericho fastened the collar about her neck and the bells sounded gently, giving her movement away. "I doubt there was anything fair about it," she said, as Jericho attached the chain to the back of the collar and then slipped the bracelet end of it on his wrist. He returned the key to Nigel's open palm. "No doubt you took great delight in giving him my direction."
"Have a care," said Jericho. "Accuse me of cheating again and I'll not answer to the consequences. I can see why the duke chose you for the hunt. It will give me great pleasure to return him to you a bit subdued."
"Vain coxcomb! Both of you are bastards!" Though she was expecting Jericho's retaliation, knew that he had to respond so that Nigel would not suspect there was anything but enmity between them, she was still surprised when he jerked his wrist sharply downward, causing her head to bow in an attitude of subservience. When she tried to lift it she discovered she could not because he had wrapped the chain around his hand, shortening it until only a few links were free between her neck and his fingers.
"Her tongue is too sharp by half," said Jericho, giving the chain a little jerk so that Rae's head bobbed against her will. "See, she agrees."
Rae twisted her head within the collar and glanced upward at Nigel, loathing in her narrow gaze. Her movement clearly accused him rather than the man who held her. She saw in his thin-lipped smile, in the icy glitter of his dark stare, that he was well pleased that she had been brought to this pass. She doubted that he would honor his bargain to release her now even if she penned the letter in front of him. Her abortive escape this evening had put an end to that. If he was concerned about Newbrough's not having her, he did not indicate it. It was as if he sensed a certain ruthlessness in Jericho that he thought she would do well to experience.
"It is not yet late," said Nigel, as Rae looked away from him and studied her folded hands. He felt immense satisfaction that she had known it would do no good to plead with him, though he admitted he would have liked to hear her entreaties. Had he found her in the woods she would have felt the sting of his riding crop for trying to thwart him and make him a fool in front of his guests by taking her leave. "The others will be returning shortly. Do you wish to resume play, or would you rather retire?"
Jericho brought Rae's head up, forcing her to look at him while he pretended to examine the familiar features of her face. "I am in no hurry to retire, but I confess I am anxious to have the last of Newbrough's notes in my possession. I would like to see if my luck will continue to hold. What say you, Miss McClellan? Can you possibly put a hold on your enthusiasm to share my bed?"
"Go to hell."
"I doubt that I would be admitted," he said with complete sincerity. "Yes, your grace, I rather think I'll play a few hands."
The card game began thirty minutes later. Lord Evans told Jericho, only half in jest, that he was queer in the attic for not taking Rahab immediately to his chamber and commencing a little slap and tickle. Though Rae blushed deeply at the slight, she held her tongue while Jericho shrugged off the comment good-naturedly. It was then that Rae realized that the respect she was accorded as Nigel's mistress did not extend to the captive of the hunt. It seemed that every man save Nigel wanted to slip the bracelet from Jericho's wrist and attach it to his own. She survived the humiliation of the deliberately rude and speculative stares by entertaining thoughts of making every would-be stallion a gelding.
Unaware of the designs upon their manhood, all the observers were seated in their usual places, with the exception of Rae, who had no choice but to sit at Jericho's side. The length of the chain made it difficult for Jericho to gather his tricks without pulling on Rae's throat, and rather than remove the bracelet from his wrist, he ordered her to take in his cards. That she did so without demur won a salute of delighted murmurs from everyone but Newbrough. The earl had lost interest in Rae for the time being and only had eyes for the fall of the cards as Nigel continued to lose hand after hand to his opponent.
Rae did not understand Nigel's purpose, for it appeared to her that he was deliberately allowing Jericho to win, though it was done with such skill that she suspected the observers put it down to successive unlucky deals. She was certainly giving him no assistance, and when she dared to glance about the room she could find no one who had taken her place. It did not make sense to her that he would give up Newbrough's notes when the earl had threatened to disclose to London at large that Nigel was not the rightful owner of Linfield. Jericho was of no help, for his face was at its most inscrutable, giving nothing away of his innermost thoughts. His deep blue eyes remained hooded, while his mouth neither lifted nor turned down at the corners, no matter what the outcome of the cards.
The room was so quiet as the last hand for the notes was dealt that Rahab was loath to breathe for fear of setting the bells at her throat to tinkling. Jericho broke the spell by pulling her close and kissing her full on the lips. The bells jangled wildly, masking the thumping of her heart. "For luck," he said, but Rae thought she surprised something in his eyes that said it was not for luck, but love. It was only as Jericho fanned his cards in front of him that Rae realized his intimate touch had caused an alarm of a different nature than she had been feeling of late. His mouth on hers had sent a shiver of pleasure through her. Unconsciously one of her hands fluttered to her abdomen, as if assuring her babe that everything was as it should be.
Jericho momentarily lost his concentration as he caught the shudder of what he could only perceive as revulsion sweep Rahab. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand fall to her stomach, and he wondered if she was going to be sick. Cursing himself for the weakness that made him want to touch her, he gathered the shreds of his wounded pride and appointed himself to the task of taking this last hand.
He very nearly did not win because of his early careless play, but Nigel made an equally careless blunder by reneging on his hand, and the win went to Jericho. Lord Lesley announced the final score, and Jericho accepted the notes Nigel handed to him with none of the satisfaction he might have felt had the circumstances been different.
Jericho stood, bringing a bewildered Rae to her feet. The jingling of the bells as she twisted her head
to look from him to Nigel to the earl attested to her confusion. "Have you won all, my lord?" she asked as Nigel extended his hand to Jericho.
Nigel answered in Jericho's place. "He has won the notes, m'dear, but not Stanhope. For that he must play on the morrow. Unless you have changed your mind, Adams, and propose to collect."
Jericho looked past Nigel to where Newbrough was sitting, still with shock and an ugly menace in his wide-set eyes, and said, "I wish to play for the title to the lands." His statement was given in the manner of a man throwing down a gauntlet, for it was issued clearly to remind everyone in the room that the earl did not possess the funds to honor the total of his debts. By extending this last opportunity to Newbrough to save his estate, Jericho had shown his complete contempt for the Earl of Stanhope.
"Till morning, gentlemen," he said coolly, giving Rae a nudge to move toward the door. "I hope the remainder of your evening is as pleasant as mine."
Rae closed her mind to the rude speculation that followed her exit from the library. She silently thanked Jericho for keeping his chained wrist at her waist as they mounted the stairs. If he had dropped his hand to his side she would have had to bow her head to keep from straining at the collar. She despised the weakly submissive posture that she had been forced to endure for the sake of the charade.
At the top of the stairs she turned out of habit toward her room in the east wing. Jericho's hold brought her up short, and the hateful bells jangled in response.
"I'm sorry, but my rooms are this way," he said, pointing to the left.
"Of course. I wasn't thinking." She put one hand to her throat to still the bells. "Please, let's go. I want to be rid of this accursed thing."
"I had to return the key to Nigel," he reminded her.
Rae had forgotten, and her disappointment was clearly etched on her face. Her attempt to shrug it off was unsuccessful, and though Jericho's heart went out to her, he offered little in the way of comfort. Other than release the bracelet from his wrist, there was nothing he could do.