“Miss Townsbridge,” the butler said as he approached her. “I understand you are leaving.”
The hell she was. She forced a smile. “Not quite.”
The butler’s face fell. “I, um…see.”
She stormed past him. “Where is his lordship?”
“Miss Townsbridge, you cannot mean to—”
She flung a door open on her right. A study came into view. Athena cast a quick glance at the desk, noted the open ledger there, and smiled. It pleased her to know that in spite of the somewhat chaotic appearance he’d put on display for her in the parlor, Darlington was keeping order in his accounts.
Continuing her search for the master of the manor, Athena swept toward the next door.
“Miss Townsbridge,” the butler said with greater insistence. “Your behavior is not the least bit appropriate.”
She scoffed. As if this wasn’t what she’d been hearing most of her life. Her hand reached forward to push down the handle. The door swung open and Darlington, looking mighty irate, scowled at her from his position at the head of the dining room table.
“I thought I told you to leave,” he said as he pushed back his chair and stood.
“In a manner of speaking,” she agreed as she entered the room. A dismal shade of grey covered the walls – a suitable hue to match the mood of their recent conversation.
“My apologies, my lord,” the butler spoke from behind Athena. “I did try to stop her from interrupting your luncheon.”
“I could use a bit of sustenance before I go,” Athena said. It was only half past twelve. If she left by one o’clock she could still return to Foxborough Hall with time to spare before her family returned from the village. She was certain of it.
Darlington closed his eyes briefly as if in prayer, then motioned to his butler. “Please prepare another place setting for Miss Townsbridge.”
“Yes, my lord.” The butler hastened to do as asked.
Darlington gave Athena a grim look. “Once you have eaten, you will go. Is that understood?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He dipped his head and waited for her to claim her seat opposite him before resuming his own. A footman filled her glass with wine. Another brought her a plate filled with soggy looking vegetables and fried sausages along with a hunk of bread. Not exactly the most appealing fare, but certainly good enough to buy her more time.
Athena scooped up some vegetables and ate. They were as bland as they appeared. She took a sip of her wine, which was surprisingly good by contrast. “I would like to make amends.”
“You live in a dream world, Miss Townsbridge.”
She bristled at that but forced herself not to get riled up. If she was to help him, she’d have to keep a cool head. “You said your reputation was ruined by what I did, that you were ridiculed and that no woman of breeding would ever—”
“I know what I said,” he snapped.
“Right. Of course you do.” She began cutting her sausage into tiny pieces. The part about his reputation might be true, but the rest… Taking another bite, she considered him with discretion. No man she’d ever seen had looked more masculine than the one whose company she presently shared. As for no woman of breeding wanting him near her, that simply couldn’t be true when she herself had the strangest yearning for his attention. She took another sip of her wine, for fortification. “What if I’m able to restore your reputation?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because the last thing I want is for you to involve yourself further in my life.”
It was a fair point even if it did sting a bit. “My family is not a stranger to scandal. If you have kept abreast of the news, you will know the Townsbridges have suffered through several stormy incidents over the years.” When he snorted in response she said, “After the episode involving Charles and Bethany, there was James. He accidentally compromised Abigail, who was later abducted on her way to their wedding. Then there was William who married Mama’s cook. And finally, Sarah turned down a duke’s proposal in public only to change her mind later. Each case invited gossip, some nastier than the rest, but we Townsbridges got through it all by sticking together.”
“What is your point?”
“You need allies, my lord, and that is something I can provide.”
He stared at her. “You want me to crawl back to your family and beg them for help?”
“No, I—”
“Absolutely not,” he thundered. Rising, he glanced at her plate, then at the window. “Are you almost finished? It is starting to snow and the very last thing I desire is for you to get stuck here.”
She didn’t want that either. Lungs tight on account of their quarrel and most particularly his response, Athena returned her attention to her meal, ever conscious of Darlington impatiently waiting for her to be done. She took her last bite and followed it with the remainder of her wine. The moment she did so he called for the butler to have her horse readied.
Rising, Athena pushed back her shoulders and told herself she’d done what she could. She’d tried to make up for her wrongdoing – had attempted to convey her sincere regrets and had even offered to make amends. It wasn’t her fault if the marquess refused to accept any of it.
Back straight, she exited the dining room with dignity and went to collect her outerwear garments from the foyer. Footsteps followed her every move and when she glanced back, Darlington was there, his expression as stony as ever.
“Where are you staying?” he asked while the butler helped her don her cloak.
“At Foxborough Hall.” She hooked the closure at the neck and began putting on her gloves.
Stepping past her, Darlington opened the front door. Annoyance flared inside Athena. She’d not even finished readying herself and already he was showing her the way out.
But rather than wait for her to step over the threshold, he turned to his butler. “Send a message to the stables, Dartwood. Have the grooms ready my horse as well so I may accompany Miss Townsbridge.”
Athena spun toward Darlington. “That’s really not necessary.”
“The weather is getting worse. It would be wrong not to see you back safely.”
“I’m sure you would rather stay here.”
“What I want became inconsequential the moment you decided to come here.” He grabbed his greatcoat with angry movements and shoved his arms through the sleeves. “Now, if you would be so kind, let us not linger any longer.”
Athena – Miss Townsbridge – parted her lips as if prepared to protest, upon which Robert served her the most withering stare he could manage. She promptly snapped her mouth shut and brushed past him, stepping into the chilly outdoors with a frosty mien to match her high temper.
Robert took a fortifying breath and prayed he’d survive the upcoming ride, because the truth was, there was something entirely too enticing about the spirited woman Athena had become. And the fire that burned in her eyes when she spoke – the passion behind her convictions – had seared him to the bone.
Muttering a curse, he followed her out into the cold. He could not – would not – allow himself to wonder what she might feel like in his arms, if her lips would part beneath his own in welcome surrender, or if she’d kiss him back with fervor. It was wrong to have such musings. She was his former friend’s baby sister for crying out loud. Except she was all woman now, and damn if his body wasn’t responding with uncomfortable awareness.
The safest way forward was to keep distance. Stay angry. Show her no mercy. Allow for no closeness. Get her back to Foxborough Hall posthaste. And leave.
Their horses arrived and Robert immediately frowned. “No sidesaddle?”
“I prefer to ride astride,” she said.
She’d done so as a child, but as an adult? It seemed outrageous. But the concept was nothing compared with what happened next. With swift movements Athena hefted the front of her skirt and cloak all the way to her waist and raised one booted foot.
Robert
stared as she placed it in the stirrup; her entire leg, clad in snug buckskin leather, was put on daring display. His fingers twitched and his muscles flexed. She swung herself into the saddle. He forced his feet into motion. Bloody hell. He’d never be able to get that image out of his head. The shape of her thigh and the curve of her bottom would be imprinted upon his brain forever. He shook his head and mounted his horse while heavy flakes fell with increasing speed.
“Ready?”
Athena gave a curt nod and then they were off, racing through the gates and out onto the country road. A gust of wind swept toward them, tossing snow in their faces.
“I came over the hills to the right,” Athena yelled.
It was the quickest route. Robert nodded and steered his horse off the road and across the field. He glanced at his companion to make sure she was all right. Of course she was, he thought wryly. This was Athena Townsbridge, not some delicate flower who couldn’t withstand a bit of harsh weather. An odd bit of satisfaction bloomed in his chest. In spite of everything, she was a woman to be admired. Her courage, however destructive it might be on occasion, knew no equal. She’d stood up in church and risked her own reputation to see her brother happy, she’d sought him out at his home when she must have known she’d not be welcome, had risked her reputation again for the sake of making amends, and had voiced her regrets in spite of his censure.
No doubt Athena Townsbridge had more grit than most fully grown men. He did not doubt she’d call out anyone who dared insult those she loved. She’d fight them to the death, because that was the sort of person she was. He knew this – had always known this. She was a force to be reckoned with, and he needed her out of his life right away before he began getting stupid ideas.
“We’ll cross the river over there,” he shouted, his voice weakened by the increasing wind. Turning slightly in his saddle, he made sure she was still with him. She leaned forward and urged her mount into a faster pace, passing Robert as she raced toward the spot he’d suggested.
With a shake of his head, he followed, only to watch with helpless horror one moment later as her horse reared on its hind legs and threw Athena from the saddle.
Robert reined in his own mount, leapt to the ground, and grabbed the harness. He whistled for Athena’s horse as he hurried toward her, pulse leaping with frantic movements at the sight of her looking so still, but the beast was gone.
“Athena.” With a groan, she pushed herself into a sitting position, and Robert expelled an immediate breath out of pure relief. Thank God. “Are you all right? No. Wait. Don’t get up.”
“My thigh hurts like the devil, but I think I’ll survive.”
He crouched beside her. “No sprained ankles then or broken limbs?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“You’re not sure?” His concern for her increased tenfold. “Can you feel your legs?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And the rest?”
“My bottom is getting a bit cold from sitting here,” she confessed. “I’ll probably have an ugly bruise tomorrow, but other than that, I’m fine.”
He blew out a breath and offered his hand. When she clasped it, he helped her up slowly, then took a moment to assess their surroundings and saw that their path was blocked by branches. “The low visibility masked this fallen tree. If I’d been ahead of you I would most likely have been the one thrown.”
“Can we go around it?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure we should.” The wind was howling, sweeping snow up off the ground to mix with the flakes that were falling. White mingled with white, obliterating all recognizable landmarks. Thankfully, they were still on his land – an area he could navigate with his eyes closed. “I think we ought to turn back.”
“What?”
“Most of our ride still lies ahead. Proceeding in this weather would not only be unwise but extremely foolhardy.”
“But I cannot return to your home with you. I mean, coming for a brief visit when no one would be the wiser was one thing. Remaining there until this storm passes is something else entirely. Lord Darlington, I cannot possibly do so.”
“I’m sorry, but your safety must come first.”
“My family will be beside themselves with worry.”
“Perhaps you should have considered that before you set out to visit a bachelor on your own.” He hadn’t meant to snap at her but lord help him if he wasn’t losing whatever remained of his patience. Regretting the outburst, he forced himself to calmly ask, “Does no one know where you were headed?”
“I did inform my lady’s maid.”
“Well then. There you are. She will no doubt reveal your secret in order to appease your family. They will then realize what happened – that you were forced to seek shelter with me until it was safe to return.”
“They might make us marry.”
Robert gave her a weary nod. There was no getting around that potential dilemma. “Come. I suggest we return to the warmth of my home before we turn into snowmen. We can continue this discussion there.”
He helped her mount his horse, then swung up behind her and gently urged the stallion forward at a moderate pace. Snug between his thighs and with her back pressed into his chest, Robert could not regret what had happened no matter how much he told himself to. He should not find her attractive, nor should he harbor a secret pleasure over the thought of keeping her trapped with him for a while longer. He ought to hate her, despise her, wish her to perdition.
He’d tried that, but it hadn’t worked and now, with the weather seemingly wishing to thwart his attempts at adding distance, he might as well surrender himself to the idea of having her near. A lot could happen while she remained in his care. A spike of arousal swept through him in spite of the cold. It had been months since he’d last been this close to a woman. Cursing himself for the scoundrel he was, he tightened his grip on the reins.
“Please ready a room for Miss Townsbridge,” he told Dartwood when they returned. “The weather seems to be against us, so she shall be staying here. For the moment.”
“Yes, my lord,” Dartwood said without displaying the slightest hint of shock. “Shall I have a couple of hot baths prepared?”
“Please do,” Robert said. He helped Athena off with her cloak. It did not escape his notice that she was trembling. He met Dartwood’s gaze. “Make haste, if you would.”
As soon as the butler was gone, Robert tore off his greatcoat and reached for Athena’s hands.
“Wha-what are you doing?”
“Helping.” He tugged at her gloves, tossed them aside on the hallway table, and brought her hands close to his mouth so he could blow warmth upon them. He rubbed the icy fingers with his own, blew on them once again, and finally, when he was satisfied that the majority of her chill had subsided, pulled her into the parlor so she could warm herself near the fire while they waited.
“I’m such an idiot,” he heard her say after a few moments of silence. “Forgive me.”
He crossed to the side table and poured two measures of brandy. He handed one of the tumblers to her. “This will soothe your insides and make you feel better.”
She took the glass with thanks and drank like a woman who wasn’t a stranger to hard spirits. He almost chuckled. Of course she wasn’t. She’d probably pilfered her father’s liquor before the age of fourteen, if only for the sake of broadening her horizons.
A satisfied sigh left her before she said, “It was wrong of me to come here as I did, to barge in on your life without invitation. I’m sorry. I have an unfortunate inclination to act before I think.”
“You don’t say.”
“And once again with dire consequences for you.” She gave her head a violent shake and turned her gaze toward the flickering flames in the grate.
“Let’s weather one storm at a time, shall we. As long as we’re able to keep your sojourn here a secret, we might get through it without any matrimonial vows at the end.” He studied her shapely figure, unable to te
ar his gaze away – completely unwilling to try. Her gown was made for winter, woolen, with long sleeves and a neckline intended to offer additional warmth. It was proper, save for the contours it put on prominent display.
With her back turned toward him, he feasted his gaze on the base of her neck instead, on the creamy expanse of unblemished skin caught between her upswept hair and the spot where her gown began. The fire crackled and he drew a ragged breath at the thought of trailing his finger along that soft flesh – of pressing a kiss there.
“One can only hope.” She turned, her eyes fractured with shards of emotion. “Lord knows I am not the sort of woman any man wants for a wife.”
Anger coiled its way around him. He wanted to shout at her, demand she explain why she thought this way, and insist she take the words back. No matter the wrongdoings of her youth, she still deserved to find happiness with a husband who loved her for who she was. No matter how much he’d blamed her over the years, he’d never wished her ill, and he’d certainly never imagined her actions might cause her to think she would be denied an affectionate husband. A thousand words crammed together in his throat, but he could not get a single one out. So he simply stood there, a silent witness to her self-deprecation, until Dartwood came to inform them that their baths had been prepared.
Gritting his teeth, Robert escorted Athena upstairs and directed her toward the bedchamber where she’d be staying. “Meet me in the library when you are ready. There’s a great deal more we need to discuss.”
Chapter 3
Sinking into the hot water, Athena savored the bliss of complete relaxation. It had been an eventful day so far and it wasn’t over yet. Snatching up the nearby soap, she proceeded to wash herself. The scent of roses mingled with the steam as she worked the soap into a frothy lather. Warmth infused her limbs to chase away any lingering chill. She was safe now, out of the storm.
A helpless smile caught the edge of her mouth. Despite her best efforts to avoid getting into trouble, the weather had chosen to thwart her, landing her under the roof of a man who wanted nothing to do with her. Very well, best efforts would in all likelihood have involved not coming here in the first place, but still. Her plan had been perfect to her mind; come, say her piece, and leave.
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