by Jenna Jaxon
As she lowered the child onto her own lap, she purposely inhaled the fresh smell of clean baby in order to erase the scent of bergamot and soap… maleness…
Loretta had held the child before, on more than one occasion. But she’d not had this busybody of a man watching her so closely. Self-consciousness arose in her, an unfamiliar emotion for a duchess.
“Bah.” Lady Harriette grasped at the broach pinned at Lorretta’s neck. A solitary diamond, encircled in a bed of delicate silver leaves. It had been a gift from Harold.
“Does that sparkle?” The child’s gaze remained fixed upon the jewelry while tiny fingers examined the design. Loretta shifted her so that she could reach it more easily.
“Bah.” The baby announced once again, this time raising her eyes to meet the wearer of such a sharp and sparkly toy.
Loretta swallowed hard but couldn’t help laughing and smiling back. “Ah, yes, bah. You’re a very smart girl already, aren’t you?”
“Already enjoying diamonds.” This from Mr. Findlay.
Loretta laughed again as her gaze met his approving one.
One of Mrs. Mossant’s younger daughters approached and then lowered herself to her knees to watch the baby. Loretta remembered herself before marrying, and how she’d been drawn to infants almost beyond her own control.
That had been so very long ago.
“She’s simply adorable, don’t you think, your grace?” She was quite taken with such innocent sweetness.
And then the other sister, the youngest, joined them as well. She likely was barely six and ten.
“She looks just like her papa, doesn’t she?” Seemingly without thought, the words tumbled from the girls mouth.
And then she glanced toward the duke.
Conversation stalled and an uncomfortable strain seemed to hover in the room. A strong and warm hand took hold of her arm.
“And her mother as well. If you look carefully at that stubborn chin, I have to say she got that straight from her grandmother.” And by God, if Mr. Findlay didn’t have the audacity to tap Loretta on the chin three times, drawing laughter from Dev and Sophia.
The impertinence!
The urge to chastise him died suddenly, however, when the baby reached up to touch her chin as well. Loretta stared down at Dev’s baby.
Lady Harriette’s chin did seem a little familiar. And then she laughed outright. Dev was her husband’s brother’s son. She had no blood relation with him at all.
Mr. Findlay had simply been teasing her, the blighter. When she caught his gaze, she couldn’t help but allow him a tight grin. He’d smoothed over the awkward moment with his outrageous comment.
Why had he done that?
Perhaps it wouldn’t rain tomorrow after all. Or snow. What would an entire afternoon be like in the company of a man such as Thomas Findlay? She’d find out soon enough. She just wasn’t sure if she was dreading doing so or anticipating it.
What was the matter with her?
CHAPTER THREE
“Mighty generous, I declare, for a duchess to go driving with one such as he.” Millie merely lifted her chin at Loretta’s disapproving glare. “Well you are a duchess.”
“And he is a guest,” Loretta reminded her maid for the second time this week. “And he’s asked my opinion. I ought to at least be able to give that. He’s considering purchasing the property. Rather smart of him really, to seek another assessment.”
“Well he didn’t get filthy rich for no reason, I suppose.” Millie tutted as she added one last pin to her mistress’ hair.
Loretta gazed back at her reflection, jolted by the dull lavender of her dress, rather than the black to which she had grown accustomed. She wasn’t sure what had prompted her to leave it off today. Perhaps holding the baby yesterday. Perhaps it had been the prospect of being of some value to another human being.
Or going driving, with a gentleman.
A handsome gentleman, at that.
She shivered. All the times she’d dismissed him as uncouth, as ungentlemanly even.
Likely he’d not notice what she wore. He simply wanted her feminine opinion, in lieu of Cecily’s absence.
And why would she care if he noticed? She would not!
“You’ll need your coat and a warm hat. And your muff.”
Loretta glanced out the window. The same clouds which had hung heavy in the sky for days now remained on the horizon. They’d yet to produce either rain or snow.
The clock on the mantel showed nine o’clock exactly, the time he’d said he wished to leave.
Loretta wished Millie had taken more time with her hair, or her dress even. She mustn’t appear too eager. She needed to wait another ten minutes or so before going down.
Because she was not.
Eager, that was. She was merely prompt.
She’d already placed any necessary items for the trip into her reticule. Money. Comb. A small vial of perfume, and the small portraits she carried of Lucas and Harold.
Perhaps she should wear some jewelry. A broach?
She fumbled through her jewelry box but couldn’t decide on anything specific.
The clock now read three after.
“I’ll need my coat now,” she told Millie. She didn’t feel like delaying this morning.
Thomas jerked his head up when he heard rustling at the top of the ornate staircase. He’d expected to wait longer for her. Up to an hour even. Gratification coursed through him at her timely appearance. Something else sped through his veins when he realized she was not wearing the ever present black.
Pleasure?
He’d best not comment upon it. She likely felt self-conscious.
When she reached the bottom landing, she nodded at him in greeting. Upon first meeting the lady, he’d been annoyed by her aloof gestures. Strangely enough, he appreciated them more lately. He’d begun to see more to her than the arrogance her bearing suggested. It was as though the woman inside of her was fighting to break out. Would she allow it?
“Duchess.” He grinned back at her serene façade.
Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Mr. Findlay,” she returned.
He’d thought to borrow one of the duke’s carriages, but at the last moment decided upon taking his curricle.
The weather would hold off. It had already done so for several days; why would today be any different?
Upon stepping outside, the duchess took one look at the high flyer and swung her gaze accusingly toward him.
He supposed he could have a traveling carriage brought round if she insisted. He’d make her insist, however.
“We’re to travel on this… contraption?” How she managed to inject so many emotions into one sentence, he couldn’t say. Shock, offended indignation, and the one he’d been hoping for… anticipation.
“It’s not as though we’re traveling to London, your grace.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
Elegant hands fluttered to the top buttons of her coat. Thomas bit down harder when she licked her lips.
“Have you never ridden in a curricle, Duchess?” The sheltered lives of nabobs never failed to surprise him. Had her husband not ever taken her for romantic picnics in the springtime? Had her sons not ever shown off a new vehicle to their mother?
She was shaking her head side to side. “Lucas had one. But no.” She stepped around to the back, seemingly examining the integrity of what he planned to carry her away on top of. “I’ve never ridden in one.”
Without giving her any more opportunities to change her mind, Thomas stepped forward and placed one hand on her slender waist. “Put one foot here, Duchess.” He pointed to a narrow ledge a little over two feet off the ground. When he moved to assist her, she instinctively dropped one hand upon his shoulder.
Her clean scent carried a hint of rose. He’d never appreciated flowery perfume on women before. It had always seemed too strong, overpowering even. But not on the duchess. On her, it was perfect. Subtle. Restrained.
He co
uldn’t help leaning in for a second whiff as he lifted her the rest of the way to the seat.
She gasped slightly when he did so. She didn’t cry out though. Or complain. She did all things with dignity.
Which gave him cause to wonder…
Rounding the vehicle, he dismissed the groomsman and then alighted the vehicle himself.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish today, other than inspect the property. “You’ll want to hold on, Duchess.” He glanced over. “It’s a long way to the cobbles below.”
God, he loved the look of indecision on her face.
“Hold on to what?” She reached around the seat with her gloved hands. She would find no handles.
“To me.” Without giving her the chance to argue, he took up the reins and with a flick of the wrists, and an encouraging “heyo,” set the vehicle in motion. One slender hand grasped his forearm. After a moment, it tucked around his elbow, pulling its person closer to his side.
He inhaled her scent again. Who would have ever guessed one could have such fun with a duchess?
“I could have borrowed a carriage, but I thought we ought to take advantage of this fine weather.” The weather would be a safe topic for now. “Shouldn’t take but less than an hour to make the journey.
“I’m surprised you’re interested in such a property. You’re quite certain you wish to settle down? Doesn’t your business take you out of the country more often than not?”
Thomas watched the road straight ahead, considering his answer. “I wouldn’t think to settle so close to Cecily’s home. She travels up here a great deal. I went riding with Nottingham last summer while we were here for the house party. Apparently, my daughter worries for me. Worries whenever I am out of the country. We came across Talon’s Gate, and the idea struck me that if she thought I was tucked away in a grand estate much of the time, she mightn’t worry so much. It’s far enough away that she needn’t know whenever I leave. Close to her friends so that she might visit me on occasion.” He shrugged. “It seemed a good idea at the time.”
Whereupon the duchess laughed. Bell like sounds of mirth escaped those damnable lips of hers.
He’d not heard her laugh even once since they’d been acquainted.
“I’d wish to know what humor you’ve found in my predicament, Duchess.” He shook his head side to side.
“Oh, Mr. Findlay.” She wiped what might have been a tear from her eye. “Perhaps I oughtn’t find your plan so amusing. It’s just… You are… such a man!”
“And you are only now noticing this about me?” He’d tease her for making such a statement. “I’ve known you to be a woman, a lady, since the first moment I laid eyes upon you.”
Untouchable.
Distant.
Impossible.
And yet here she was, sitting up beside him on top of a high-flying curricle. He eased the tension upon the reins and the pair increased their speed.
She clutched his arm tighter.
She’d not acknowledge his statement, he knew. She’d keep some of that respectability tightly wrapped around herself.
But she could enjoy the speed, the wind, the freedom of riding along an open road in a well-sprung vehicle. After less than a mile, he eased the horses back to a brisk walk. A curve turned the road just up ahead, and he’d never put her in any real danger. He’d not intended to scare her, just to shake a few cobwebs loose.
Was she smiling now? Did the hints of her earlier laughter dance upon those lips? He couldn’t help stealing a glimpse of her beside him.
Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed pink. Why was it that society placed such value upon youth? To see a lady such as her, a lady who has known the full spectrum of life, thrill at something so mundane as racing along the road… He had to swallow hard to clear himself of whatever strange emotion lurked within him.
“I’d hazard a guess you’ve never traveled so fast.” He teased.
She shook her head beside him. “You’ll be the death of us both.” But the joviality remained in her voice. She wasn’t thinking of the deaths she’d experienced in her life.
“Ye of little faith, Duchess.” He held the reins with one hand for only a moment so that he could reassure her with his other. She was clutching his arm with both her hands now. He patted them and then secured the reins again. “You’ve nothing to worry over.”
She sat up straight beside him, presumably remembering all the things she thought to find distressing. Did she feel guilty for her laughter? For enjoyment?
He wished she’d talk to him more. But for her damnable dignity. She’d likely reminded herself who he was.
The dizziness that engulfed her was more inside her head than her body. She’d loved the sensation of speeding along the road, relished the breeze caressing, and then whipping past her face.
Who was she?
And she’d laughed at him. At his silly notion of alleviating his daughter’s worries with the purchase of an estate. Did he not understand that the women at home always fretted over the safety of their loved ones?
And yet he’d told her not to worry.
In that moment, she wished she could talk with him. She wished she could talk to anyone about the constant fear burning a hole inside her heart.
But she could not. Of course, she could not! She couldn’t tell a soul. She could barely articulate the words enough to contemplate them in her own thoughts.
“Everyone has something to worry about,” she said instead. He could laugh and then race his horses along the road as though the only moment that mattered was now.
“Of course, we do. That’s why we need to set our concerns aside. Put them in their place from time to time.”
She shook her head at his foolishness.
“You don’t think I worry, Duchess?” His tone had lost some of the humor he’d had for most of the ride.
Of course, he worried. She hadn’t meant to imply any such thing. But his affairs were so very different. He wouldn’t understand.
“You have your business to contend with, I imagine.”
And then the curricle jerked as he pulled to the side of the road, bringing their mad dash to an almost startling halt.
When he shifted on the seat to meet her gaze, his expression had turned serious.
“I’ve a daughter. One who has experienced the bitter rejection of most of society, despite her status as a countess. I have a grandson, one who stands to inherit an Earldom, despite the blood of a laborer flowing through his veins. And yes, I have my business. Hundreds of men, families, depending upon its success for their livelihood. Would you say I ought to mull over it constantly? Much as I have my entire life? Is there never to be a time to simply enjoy? If I do not grasp it now, then when? I’m no longer a young man, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“You might be older than me, but for a man that means nothing.” His argument tore some unknown anguish out of her. “A woman…” She started and turned to stare across the field. “A woman such as me is already past her prime. What is she to do with her life if she isn’t a mother? Or a grandmother? When all she has left to do is wait to die?”
God, she sounded so maudlin. She ought to be whipped for expressing such thoughts.
“For God’s sake, woman, what in perdition goes on in that noble head of yours?” And then he reached up and turned her chin so that she was forced to meet his gaze.
Loretta would have pulled away, but that such a motion would have her tumbling onto the ground, what felt like ten feet away! Instead, she tightened her muscles. She pinched her lips. He was manhandling her as she ought to have expected.
Only she couldn’t keep her gaze from the intensity of his eyes. Eyes, the color of the sky. Not on a summer day but on a day like to today, when a thin veil of clouds covered most of the blue. Cold blue.
Only they burned into her now.
“If you could only see what I do. If you could only see the world outside of that tower you’ve built around yourself.” He sh
ook his head slightly, as though confused.
For a moment, she thought that he was going to attempt to kiss her. She turned her face away from him without waiting to find out. She’d not been kissed in ages. In years. Not on the mouth. Not by any person with romantic designs.
Prescott had never kissed her on the mouth.
Oh, he’d loved her. In his own way.
Loretta plucked at the repair that had been made to her glove, waiting for him to urge the horse onto the road once again.
“Are you going to dwell in it forever?” His voice grumbled and she felt hot breath near her ear.
She didn’t know what he was talking about. She didn’t know really.
“Are we going to this property or not?” She refused to answer his question, keeping her stare directed at the road ahead. She could not look at him. Her entire body thrummed with sensations she’d thought long dead, and they terrified her.
He remained still, and she wondered if he was like to turn around and take them back to Eden’s Court. Perhaps she should demand he do just that.
After a moment, he shifted in the seat beside her and then urged the animals to pull them back onto the road.
Loretta didn’t understand why the urge to cry bothered her now. She was not a girl! She was a woman past her fortieth year! She’d been married since the turn of the century for heaven’s sake.
But when it came to men. Especially one such as Mr. Thomas.
She was as naïve as a debutante.
As they drove the next several miles, Loretta realized that she should not have come. Mr. Thomas did not live by the same rules she adhered to. He disrupted the fragile equilibrium she’d managed to find.
She wished she could ask him to turn around. To take her back to Eden’s Court. To take her back home.
What had she been thinking?
When he turned down a long drive and jumped down from the vehicle to open a set of elegant iron gates, she had been determined to keep the inspection as short and efficient as possible. She’d not allow him to goad her again.