Duke Du Jour

by Petie McCarty

  Her loyal coachman had never said a word. Dorsey put down the steps, gently handed her inside, gave her his handkerchief, and said only, “I will get ye home and come back for yer da.”

  ****

  “So, what do you say we practice?” Jared repeated, a wide smile on his face.

  Ari stared back incredulous. Had he forgotten that night at the Barwood’s Ball? She certainly hadn’t. Her heart broken, she had cried herself to sleep for months afterward with the sound of Jared’s and Lucilla’s laughter still ringing in her ears.

  Of course, Jared had forgotten. He had never known she crouched outside the summerhouse and listened while he broke her heart. Now, he stood before her and smiled, blithely reminding her that he had used her for practice for the other, more beautiful women at Barwood’s Ball. One woman in particular.

  Dorsey, wonderful man that he was, had never asked her what had happened that night, nor had he told anyone about finding her huddled near the stable, sobbing her heart out. Everyone—including her father—had thought she had taken ill with a summer cold and gone on home. Her secret had been safe all these years.

  But repeat the scenario? Not on her life.

  “I think not!” she said sharply, and Jared stiffened a bit.

  “Afraid I will step on your toes?”

  “No, of course not.”

  He frowned slightly. “You don’t want me to make a fool of myself at your ball, do you?”

  He was too close, too masculine, too warm, too…handsome.

  “You won’t. A few steps and it will all come back to you.” She marched to the bell pull and took it in hand. “Would you care for tea?”

  Again, the small frown marred his near-perfect features. “No, thank you.” He stared for a minute. “How about a ride in my curricle?”

  She opened her mouth to decline his offer—no matter how badly she would love to race along in his sporting two-wheeled chaise—and he cut her off.

  “I will let you drive if you like.”

  That had her gaping at him. He would let her drive? The little hoyden from the neighboring estate? She would bloody well love to drive his curricle.

  “All right. I will get my bonnet.”

  “No dogs. No room,” he called after her.

  She smiled slyly. “There is room for one.”

  ****

  “You cannot be serious!”

  Jared stared at the tiny dog cuddled in the crook of Ari’s arm and felt a ridiculous poke of angry jealousy at the filcher’s luck. The dog’s protuberant eyes ogled him with misgiving and, combined with its bulbous skull, short hair, and small ears, made the creature look like a giant terrified bug.

  “About what?” Ari calmly replied.

  “About bringing that along.”

  Her eyes shot sparks. “It is a she, not a that.”

  Unwilling to draw further ire, he swiftly retreated. “My apologies. She is welcome, of course.”

  He had been granted time alone with Ariana and intended to make wise use of his gift, not watch her hug the little rat-dog instead of him. Harry waited next to the curricle and made no effort to climb in with them, which surprised Jared. Now, Harry was a real dog. That little thing Ari was holding was…smiling at him? That was the only word for it. The little rat-dog was smiling at him, so Jared smiled back.

  Ari grinned, her first of the day. “I cannot believe you are smiling at my dog. First Harry and now this. You seem to have forgotten you don’t particularly care for dogs.

  One faux pas I do not intend to remedy.

  “So I have.” He grinned and handed her into the curricle. “What is the dog’s name?”

  “Aglaonema—”

  “You cannot be seri—”

  “—after a beautiful foliage plant I saw at the Royal Botanic Gardens last summer,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard his outburst.

  Unwilling to lose ground, he said, “It is a lovely name.”

  Ari giggled then, a magical little sound that made him ache to wrap her up in his arms. “And no, Jared, I cannot be serious. Her name is Venus. I figured with her looks, she should be named after the Roman goddess of love and beauty to bolster her confidence.”

  “And do I bring out the minx in you?” he asked, laughing.

  “Yes, I believe you do.”

  She settled back in the curricle, and he quickly climbed in beside her. He would not put it past her to drive off and leave him.

  “Here you go,” she said and handed over the little bug-eyed bundle, who promptly licked his cheek.

  “You could learn something from Venus’s tactics for making friends,” he told her with a wink.

  “No, I could not,” she primly replied, but her eyes danced as she reached for the ribbons.

  “Don’t you want me to get us out onto the road to Dolan first, before you try to drive?”

  “I am perfectly capable of turning us around and taking us out to the road.”

  And she was.

  Jared settled back into his seat and tucked little Venus in his coat pocket, so only her head poked out. Ari’s bonnet tilted back with the wind on her face, and he could see her cheeks flush with color. A sparkle lit her eyes, and her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she concentrated on handling the ribbons and keeping the blacks in a matched pace.

  He thought he had never seen a more beautiful woman and found it remarkable he could want a woman who could drive a sulky—or rather a curricle.

  Jared had dated women who shopped for a living, spent money as though it would soon be obsolete. For recreation, they got together with other members of their social set and talked about the women unfortunate enough to have missed the party. The women Jared dated had their own rules of etiquette for membership into their untouchable elite. They did not wait on anyone. They were waited upon. They were driven about. They would never drive themselves in a million years. They certainly would never drive a team of horses. The women he dated would not even come to see him drive his own horses. The women he had dated considered his sulky racing a weird ducal quirk.

  Maybe he had been dating the wrong women.

  Ari cast a brief glance at him. “What do you find so amusing, Jared?”

  “Slow the curricle down.”

  “Why? You said I could drive.”

  He grinned at her defiance. What a woman!

  “And drive you may. I just want you to slow for a moment, if you please.”

  “But why?”

  The spirited blacks took advantage of her momentary lapse in concentration and tried to break. She snapped her attention back to the ribbons and slowly pulled the horses to a halt. Her agitation had sent high color to her cheeks, and she looked absolutely gorgeous. Jared made a mental note to irritate her more often. She turned to face him so quickly, her bonnet spun back off her head.

  Perfect.

  “Why did I have to stop? What was so important?” she asked indignantly.

  “Only this.”

  He cradled her cheeks in his hands and lightly touched his lips to hers. Her face was so delicate, his hands stretched from her chin almost to the back of her head. She held herself stiffly for several long moments, but Jared refused to give up and nibbled at her lower lip. He was rewarded when Ari relaxed against him and pressed into the kiss. He smiled against her lips, feeling quite smug. He ran the tip of his tongue slowly across her lower lip. Her resultant gasp at his audacity allowed him the entry he sought. Like a warrior checking battlements for a weak spot.

  His tongue gently swept past her defenses and tickled at hers to tease a response. She started again, but he held her cheeks firm until she relaxed, and he wanted to groan with the need her modest acquiescence stirred within him. This was a tender kiss unlike the swift and wild adrenaline-fueled kiss in Harrison’s tavern. If he could be this aroused by the gentlest of kisses, what would happen to him if sweet, remarkable Ari ever fully matched his heat with her own? Spontaneous combustion came to mind.

  He eased back, unwill
ing to endanger his future by being greedy now—at the outset of their sensual relationship.

  She blinked, her eyes a little glassy with sensuous haze. Again, the smugness clipped him. He had done that. She had acted disinterested, played hard to get, but—

  She blinked again.

  All innocence.

  Guilt pounded at him like a sledgehammer. What was he doing? What had he been thinking? He could not pursue this liaison. Ariana was a virgin. Of that, he had no doubt, and he refused to take advantage of her. Which meant—

  What?

  The thought of never kissing Ari again, never being with Ari again, never ever having Ari caused a sharp ache at all manner of levels. How had he let this happen? And so very fast?

  He knew precisely how it had happened. She was the most delectable, exciting, entertaining, vivacious woman he had ever met, as though God had created the little darling just for him.

  She blinked again.

  Simply adorable.

  “Why are you frowning? Did I do it wrong?” she asked timidly.

  Oh, good Lord. So innocent.

  He needed to lurch back into the friendship arena. She could not come with him back to the future, he could not stay here in this deuced century, and he refused to hurt her. Keeping his hands off her would nigh kill him, but he had no choice. Of all the rotten luck. To discover the perfect woman for him two hundred years too soon.

  “No, my darling Ari, you did it perfectly. Too perfectly.”

  She gave him a sheepish smile, and he felt like a cad when next he said, “I should not have done that. Please accept my apologies. I was out of line.”

  Her face fell. The smile vanished, and Jared felt as though he had taken a punch to the gut.

  “No worries,” she said, her voice sounding small. “Next time I won’t stop the curricle.”

  “Ari, I—”

  “No, really. We’re fine.” She patted his hand, but wouldn’t look at him. “Don’t give it a second thought. Shall we go?”

  I am the world’s biggest arse.

  She took up the ribbons, and he made no effort to say more. They rode in silence for a while, and Jared stole a few furtive glances. Ari kept her eyes on the road ahead. Her expression blank, her mouth unsmiling—and he could only wonder if she was glad he had backed off.

  ****

  Sometime later, Jared spied the narrow bottleneck between the forest and a granite outcropping in the road ahead. That bottleneck meant Dolan was only a mile away. Should he suggest they turn back once they reached Dolan or continue through the countryside? Maybe he should just come clean and explain his circumstances. Then at least, she would not be hurt by his abrupt set-down after luring her into a kiss. Would she believe him? He could not risk her mentioning his wild claim to anyone else if she didn’t believe him.

  The sound of the pistol shot registered in the same instant a chunk of the curricle’s front trim exploded right in front of him.

  Highwaymen!

  “Stay down!” he shouted and palmed Ari’s head sideways behind him, as he snatched the ribbons from her and slapped the horses to a full sprint.

  The curricle rocked wildly and pitched Ari flat in the seat and Jared almost out of the curricle, but he hung on.

  “Hyah! Hyah!”

  The blacks streaked down the narrow lane in the forest, and he could see riders weaving through the trees on either side. A second pistol shot sounded, and bark flew from a tree alongside the road as they passed. Jared counted three riders, maybe more, and regretted leaving Seven’s pistol behind at the manor house. No reloading on horseback though, and he prayed the last of the highwaymen carried no pistol.

  Bullen had shown him the cane Seven always carried under his curricle seat when he had harnessed the horses that morning. The cane had a bloody sword hidden inside for protection. He had chuckled at the sneaky little weapon, but he wasn’t laughing now. He hoped he could remember his college fencing lessons. The cane was the only protection they had. He would force Bullen to give him a refresher course the minute he returned to Haverly. He refused to consider if he returned, because Ari’s life was at stake here, too. He could not take on the assailants and risk Ari’s safety. He had to get her to Dolan and secure reinforcements.

  One glance up the road and Jared feared their goose was about to be cooked. He had forgotten the second bottleneck where the forest encroached on the narrow clearing at the bridge, a half mile from the village. He would need to make a hard turn for the bridge and must slow the curricle to make that happen. The perfect place for an ambush.

  The highwaymen knew it, too.

  One rider had surged forward of the curricle and broke into the clearing ahead, rearing his horse to slow the blacks. The brim on his hat was pulled down low to keep his face covered. The other two riders quickly caught up and blocked them in from behind.

  “Stay down,” Jared hissed at Ari and pushed her to the floor of the curricle.

  He jerked the ribbons hard to make both blacks rear up and forced Slouch-hat out in front to back away from their powerful hooves. Seeing the lane to the bridge temporarily open, the two back riders surged forward, one on either side of the curricle and both with bandannas over nose and mouth. Red on the right, sooty blue on the left.

  “What do we have ’ere?” Blue Kerchief eased his mount in closer and leered at Ari.

  “Get back!” Jared roared and jerked the ribbons to force his horses to rear again, keeping the forward assailant occupied. Blue Kerchief’s horse nervously sidestepped away from the curricle at the squeals from the angry blacks.

  “We ’ave you outnumbered, so it’s no use to fight.” Red Kerchief surged his steed forward on the right.

  “What do you want?” Jared bellowed. He grabbed the cane and swung it at Blue Kerchief’s head, forcing him back from Ari.

  “Ye’re coming wif us,” the highwayman growled. “Grab his cane!”

  Red Kerchief swiped at Jared and missed.

  “The hell I will!”

  Jared whipped the hidden sword free of the cane right as Blue Kerchief pulled a pistol from his coat. Jared back-handed the cane barrel hard—knocking the gun out of his hand and into the dirt—then parried the short sword Red Kerchief swung from his scabbard. His roar kept the blacks in turmoil, and both reared and pawed at Slouch-hat out in front.

  Blue Kerchief kicked his horse and forced his way almost into the curricle alongside Ari, his arm out to grab her. She snatched the whip from its holder and swung hard at the rider’s head, connecting cleanly and ripping the kerchief half off his face. His left eye and cheek bore a rippled scar that ran from eyebrow to jaw.

  The highwayman growled and lurched for her, but Ari was too fast and slashed the whip across his face and neck a second time, forcing his arms up to protect himself and giving her time to strip the ribbons from Jared’s grasp, as he parried swords with Red Kerchief on their right.

  She snapped the ribbons hard on the powerful blacks, and the pair squealed their anger as they leaped forward into Slouch-hat, backing him to the bridge and over the uneven embankment. The highwayman’s horse stumbled backward, then screamed as it rolled out of sight. Ears laid back, teeth bared, Jared’s angry blacks terrified Blue Kerchief’s horse into bucking and fighting the reins so hard, it was all the cutthroat could do to keep his seat.

  Jared made a final parry and cleanly snapped the sword from Red Kerchief’s grasp. He yanked the whip back from Ari and laid it across the rumps of his blacks to race them across the bridge in a frenzy, his courageous Ari gamely holding onto the ribbons. Red Kerchief gave chase and briefly came alongside, but Jared kept him back with whip and sword, squeezing him out at the last bend in the lane to Dolan.

  The curricle burst from the forest in clear view of the village, Jared yelling wildly at the horses, “Hyah! Hyah!” to keep them going. He stripped the ribbons from Ari’s white-knuckled grasp and forced the blacks to a frenzied breakneck speed down the open road to the village and straight to a halt
at Bostwick’s stable.

  “Are you all right?” Jared grabbed Ari’s shoulders and scanned her face, his hands sliding down her arms to search for injuries.

  “I-I am f-fine,” she squeaked, her breath still coming fast.

  He gripped her hands tight, his expression grim. “It seems we are both fine, thank God, and no thanks to those miserable bastards back there. And no, I won’t apologize for my language. I will only apologize for not remembering to bring my pistol.”

  “Then you would have been killed if you’d been armed,” she protested.

  “Not if I shot first,” he growled.

  His face had gone white, and the end of the whip under his arm still vibrated with his fury. Barry Bostwick rushed out the stable door and grabbed the harness of the closest black. Both horses were blowing hard from their wild panicked run.

  “I seen ye comin’, Yer Grace. Like the devil hisself were after ye.”

  “It felt like it, Barry,” Jared agreed. “We were attacked by highwaymen just outside of town.”

  “Gor! Ye don’t say! Did ye recognize them?”

  “No, I didn’t.” His pocket wiggled, and a small nose poked out. “Dear Lord! I forgot all about you, Venus. What a little trouper you are.” He tugged the little dog free and passed her to Ari.

  “Hold the horses steady while I help Lady Ariana down,” he ordered young Bostwick. “Unharness them and cool them down while we go to the inn for a much-needed brandy, will you?”

  He laid the whip aside, closed his big hands around her waist, and swept her easily from the curricle. Ari’s knees buckled when her feet touched ground, and Jared pulled her close to steady her, the trembling little Venus cuddled against her neck. She melted into his arms, needing a few brief moments of his strength to get her own back. She cared little for who might see.

  “Are you certain you’re all right?” he asked again.

  She pulled back and tried for a smile though she feared it looked weak. “I cannot believe this. Never in all my life have I heard of an attack near Dolan. Why would those highwaymen be here and risk an attack in broad daylight?”