Now, he was too thin, though thanks to his cook’s ministrations and his butler’s insistence that he eat, at least Simon was not the gaunt man he’d been when he’d first returned to England. His ribs were no longer clearly outlined at least.
Still, he was no prize for Jenny to dote over. He could change that. He would change that.
Turning, Simon grabbed hold of his coat from the nearby branch with his free hand. Time to test his premise. Walking again into the stream, he tugged the rope for Thunder to follow. The horse did so, barely hesitating with the smallest of startles when its front hooves touched the water. In a few moments, they’d crossed the stream and were safely on the other side.
Jenny clapped her hands softly, as if afraid to startle Thunder but obviously too excited to remain still.
“How did you do that?” she asked, looking at him as if he were God.
Admittedly, her admiration, however fleeting, felt damn good. After losing a battle, getting captured, and failing dismally at protecting Toby, helping Jenny seemed like a step in the right direction, no matter the insignificance of his success. What’s more, he had left the grounds of Belton. He was free!
“Horses are basically trusting pack animals,” he told her as he walked Thunder to a tree a few yards away from the other horses. He tied him securely and patted the animal’s smooth neck.
Turning, Simon found Jenny’s appreciative gaze still fixed upon his person. Understandably, he wanted to pull her close and feel her bountiful curves against his naked chest instead of simply eyeing her magnificent breasts surreptitiously like a schoolboy. What’s more, he wanted to claim her mouth again. This time, with his eyes open.
God, if she knew what he was thinking! That delightful blush would be a permanent stain upon her cheeks.
Shrugging into his jacket, as well as shrugging off the improper thoughts, Simon added, “Most horses will follow a leader just about anywhere. I think you are correct that Thunder’s eye is injured. He’s startling every time something that he isn’t expecting comes close, and it’s watering profusely, ruining his vision. Let’s keep the blindfold on him until we get him home. Let him rest in the darkness.”
Jenny looked at him curiously, and he knew what she was thinking: Comparing him to the wretched horse, and being quite correct.
Damnit!
*
“My carriage is still at Belton,” Jenny pointed out, after Simon had successfully led Thunder behind his horse all the way back to her mother’s cottage.
For her part, Jenny had ridden at the front of their procession on sweet Lucy. Though very much aware of the shirtless man following behind her, she had tried to keep up a normal conversation.
Nevertheless, even while chatting, her thoughts kept drifting to the vivid memory of his bare torso, something she’d never seen before. Not any man’s.
The earl was thinner than he ought to be, Jenny noted, yet he had a very fine form. Moreover, she’d been fascinated by his flat brownish-pink nipples and the dusting of tawny hair that curled in the center of his chest and headed downward toward the waistband of his trousers, leading her thoughts to what lay below!
When they’d arrived at her home, her family, particularly Eleanor, were overjoyed to see Thunder. All except for her cousin.
“He should be shot,” Ned said upon exiting the house and seeing the horse. Then he took an exaggerated second look upon seeing Simon’s shirt around the horse’s eyes.
Swiveling his gaze to the earl and taking note that his lordship wore nothing beneath his coat, a frown settled across her cousin’s brow.
“That’s rather irregular, I do say,” Ned avowed, his tone almost one of complaint.
“His lordship helped tremendously,” Jenny said, addressing her mother and ignoring Ned entirely. Shot, indeed!
However, Eleanor was clearly worried. “Oh, please don’t say Thunder has to be put down.”
Before Jenny could do more than glare at Ned, Simon answered for her.
“Of course, not.” The earl approached her mother. “If I may advise you, Lady Blackwood, this animal needs a veterinarian to look at its eye. There may be something embedded though hopefully it is merely a scratch that will heal. In the meantime, unless you have a proper set of blinders, a lightweight feed sack should do to keep it calm. Far better than my shirt. It ought to have its head covered at all times.”
“I fail to see how that will help,” Ned said.
Jenny was in no mood to argue. Simon had been quite right. Ned should have helped her rather than pouting in his room. In her parlor!
Though on second thought, she certainly wouldn’t have wanted to receive an eyeful of her cousin without his shirt!
This time, Simon did respond directly to Ned. “The poor vision in Thunder’s left eye is causing the animal to become increasingly skittish.” Then the earl fixed her cousin with a hard stare. “Quite frankly, it was dangerous for Miss Blackwood to be out there recovering the animal. I’m surprised that she was allowed to, nay, forced to.”
Jenny watched Ned swallow. Duly reprimanded, he had nothing more to add.
Simon spoke again to her mother. “Since you are now lacking a stable boy and, clearly, shorthanded when it comes to help,” he shot Ned another disparaging glance, “I will tend to the animal and get him to his stall. After that, I can send assistance from Belton to help out until George—it is George, isn’t it?—until he is up and around. Meanwhile, I will send for the veterinarian that my family has used for years. He is an excellent animal doctor.”
Thus, it was that Lord Lindsey ended up acting as their stable boy. Once Thunder was back in his stall with a feedbag on his head, and Lucy had been stabled with fresh oats and water, then Jenny reminded Simon of her family’s carriage, which still remained at his estate.
“I shall deliver your carriage to you first thing in the morning,” he said.
“Oh, no, my lord,” she protested. “I can walk to the manor and retrieve it myself.”
The smile he offered her seemed like a warm bath. What’s more, it silenced her as she took in his handsome face.
“Miss Blackwood, there is no need for you to worry. You’ve done enough as it is. Let me handle this one small task for you.” He held her gaze for a long moment, until she nodded, thrilled to her toes at his offer.
Then turning to Jenny’s mother, he said, “You have a remarkable daughter, and I am very pleased to have made her acquaintance. And all of your acquaintances, of course.”
“Thank you, my lord. Will you stay for our evening meal?”
“That’s very kind, but I will not impose unexpectedly.” And with a bow to Jenny’s mother and nods to the rest of her family, he took his leave. Only his glance to Jenny indicated his desire for her to follow him as he led his dappled gray to the road.
“I will send for the vet at once. I hate to think that your horse is in pain needlessly. If there’s something under the lid or even, God forbid, in his eye, this man will flush it out. Even if there is some vision loss, Thunder’s nature should return to normal after that.”
With the only blight upon her happiness being the size of the veterinarian’s cost, she felt blessed indeed.
“May I confess, my lord, though I don’t wish ill on Thunder or George, for that matter, I see the benefit in what has happened today.”
He cocked his head in an endearing fashion.
“Meaning, Jenny?”
“Meaning you are here, where a few hours earlier I would have wagered my soul you could not possibly be. If I may say, my lord, I am quite proud of you.”
To her delight, the Earl of Lindsey blushed profusely before bidding her a good evening and riding away.
*
If he could do one impossible task, he could do another, he reasoned. He’d left the manor, left the grounds of Belton itself, and made Jenny proud. Now, he stood beside his bed, staring at it.
Glancing over at his favorite chair, which had, in a way, also become his most despised
chair, he released a large sigh.
Genevieve Blackwood had done it! She had got him to go outside, and not merely into his own garden but out to rescue that bloody unfortunate horse. The thought of her needing him had compelled him to overcome the paralysis of his own fear and to bolt after her. He still could hardly credit that he’d ridden Luster.
Thank God he’d found her and the horse! Even now, though, anxiety trickled down his spine at what he’d done, but he had done it. What’s more, he was determined he would not ever lock himself in his room again for being outdoors was far preferable to being indoors. He knew he wouldn’t walk beneath an arbor and find himself imprisoned in his cell. He felt no fear that he might doze off while riding his horse and end up covered in rats. It was a miracle! All due to Jenny.
But the cursed bed! And sleep. Those were another matter altogether. They practically ensured a swift return to his cell, and he honestly wasn’t sure he was strong enough to survive if he went back. Not after experiencing the joys of his home again and the pleasantries he’d felt with one particular woman.
Finally, feeling like a coward, he snatched up the same poetry book of Burns, lit three lamps, and sat in his chair to read through the night. Hours later, when he awakened on the dirt floor of his cell, he nearly wept. Going home had been a cruel dream. Riding his horse hadn’t really happened.
Bitterly, he waited for the noise of the rats to assault his ears just as their claws and teeth would assault his skin if he wasn’t vigilant. Yet he heard nothing. It was strangely quiet. Where was Toby? Lifting his head enough to glance around the dimly lit cell, he saw his cousin propped against the far wall, unmoving. Suspicion grew that something was wrong with Toby, something Simon already knew and didn’t want to face.
“Speak,” he tried to scream to his cousin, but he couldn’t make a sound. Not wanting to face whatever was bubbling up to the surface from deep in his pool of memories, Simon lay his cheek back down on the floor.
Then he heard the guard coming and all his senses perked up. If he could kill the guard, he could prevent anything bad from happening. He could save Toby. Or was it too late?
*
Jenny was on tenterhooks all morning. When would their little yellow gig be returned? Would Simon come himself? Most likely not. He would send a footman to return the carriage and walk back to the manor.
After glancing out the upstairs window for the hundredth time, she sat back on her bed.
“Drats!” Extremely tired of her own impatience and her futile thoughts, she picked up the book she’d been unable to read for the past hour. If only she could take a walk. However, she was practically imprisoned in her room. If she ventured downstairs, Ned was sure to assail her with an invitation to speak privately. Even if she slipped from the house, she knew with certainty he would follow her.
Blessedly, Maggie had brought her a muffin and a pot of tea before she’d had to leave on foot for her duty at the manor. Jenny knew it was wrong but couldn’t deny a surge of envy for her sister. She tried not to imagine the earl, whom she almost thought of as her earl, encountering Maggie in his home. With Simon’s newfound strength and willpower, he might decide to check in on the children with whom he had seemed enchanted the day before. How easy would it be for him to fall for the most beautiful Blackwood sister?
Jenny vowed it had been worth the wait when instead of a footman delivering her family’s gig, Simon arrived in his own carriage.
“I thought we could go reclaim yours together,” he told her, standing, hat-in-hand on the cottage doorstep.
She grinned at him as she collected her bonnet and gloves, feeling almost breathless with delight. The Earl of Lindsey had come calling to collect her and had clearly gone out of his way to do so. After all, he could have sent a servant.
In no time, Simon had helped her onto the plush and polished leather seat of his sporty tilbury. They delayed only long enough for Cook to hurry out the door after them clutching a basket with a cloth over it. After having this thrust into her arms, Jenny found herself whisked away from home, her bonnet ribbons blowing in the breeze.
It was a far more enjoyable ride back to Belton with the earl than it had been coming from the manor with her cousin the day before. Though Jenny wouldn’t have minded feeling Simon’s thigh or shoulder against her own, like a gentleman, he stayed on his side of the carriage seat.
For her part, preoccupied by their close proximity, she kept imagining turning her face toward him. He would only need to lean down slightly to be able to kiss her again.
Sighing loudly, for if she were honest, another kiss was what she most desired at that moment, she nearly missed his concerned words.
“Do not despair,” he said, mistaking her sigh. “I am sure your horse can be rehabilitated and restored to its former nature. It needs only a gentle hand and a kind, understanding soul to oversee its recovery.”
At his words, Jenny did turn her face toward the man seated beside her. The earl’s intense expression made her consider what he had said. There was no doubt in her mind he was speaking about himself as much as about Thunder.
“I’m sure he will be fine,” she offered. “He has already made incredible progress.”
Simon rested his forearms on his thighs, holding the reins loosely. A smile played about his mouth.
Clearly, he knew she meant him, and just as clearly, he was not bothered by it.
“As I said, an understanding soul.”
Jenny accepted his compliment. Helping came easily to her, and there was something in this man that called to her womanly heart, drawing sympathy from her without pity.
No, he was too formidable a man to pity.
“I don’t know how the scratch to your horse’s eye will heal,” Simon broke into her musing, “but even if he never properly regains his vision, if you accustom him to blinders, he will be far happier.”
“I fear I would still be stuck in the stream had you not come to my rescue.”
Dear God, now she was flirting shamelessly. Of course she would not still be standing in the water unless she were an absolute ninny.
“I have every faith that you would have found a solution. What with your tempting carrots and your frayed rope.”
They both laughed, and any awkwardness of the morning dissipated.
“I took the liberty of sending for the vet today, and I will be honored if you’ll allow me to pay for him.”
Jenny shook her head. “You have done too much already. And I do truly thank you for everything you did yesterday. We shall pay for our own horse’s care.”
She heard Simon sigh. “You are stubborn. And you do not need to thank me. We are far from even in good deeds performed.”
Lifting a hand, he softly brushed her cheek with his knuckles, then along her jawline.
“Oh, goodness,” Jenny murmured as heat suffused her cheeks and her entire body seemed to warm.
His eyes widened. “What is amiss?”
“I’m certain my face is already red as a beetroot and most unbecoming.”
Turning away, she broke the disturbing contact, staring toward the gully beside the rude country road.
“Jenny,” he said softly.
She didn’t look at him, and indeed, she did feel as stubborn as he’d accused her of being. Where Maggie could perpetrate a delightful dusting of color on her high cheekbones, Jenny feared she had two large red apples for cheeks.
“Genevieve,” he implored, his voice low and husky to her ears.
She nearly smiled, realizing he was teasing her. However, when Simon gently grasped her chin and brought her head around to face him, she sobered entirely. His intense, scrutinizing expression stole her breath.
The horse had stopped at his command. There she sat, in an open-air carriage in the middle of the road, hardly able to breathe and utterly unable to move.
“No,” he said, shaking his head slowly yet never breaking eye contact.
“No?” she repeated, feeling as if she had cotton w
ool between her ears rather than a brain. All she could do was look into his piercing gray-blue eyes, entirely captivated by his gaze.
“You are not at all unbecoming, nor does your face resemble a beet in any way. You have a perfectly delectable bloom on your cheeks to rival the sweet pink blush of England’s fairest roses.”
His thumb and fingers held her still.
She saw the flare in his blue depths, felt a responding surge of desire in herself. Undeniably, she was quite prepared, even eager, when he leaned toward her and kissed her.
Chapter Thirteen
Relishing the firmness of his mouth upon her own, Jenny nearly started to hum with pleasure. Though not the desperate, grappling kiss of their garden encounter, yet for all its gentleness, this kiss was entirely thrilling.
“Mm,” she murmured against his mouth, before feeling the tip of his tongue trace the joining of her lips. Simon was like a sensual siege and she, the castle whose gatekeeper desperately wanted to open the gates.
Unhesitatingly, she parted her lips. He slid his tongue inside her mouth and tasted her.
Her hands fluttered up from her lap and the basket she still held. Clasping him behind the neck, she experienced everything he offered. Such pleasure!
Excruciating sensations of desire—for she’d read enough novels to know what this was—flowed through her, like golden honey across warm bread.
He released her chin, attempting to lay claim to her body, but the basket lay between them.
“What is in that infernal basket?” he demanded, picking it up and placing it at their feet. Yet, when he pressed his large, warm palm against her ribs, directly below the swell of her bosom, she couldn’t form a thought or speak a word. While sweeping his thumb upward toward her left breast, his fingers dug gently into her many layers of cotton and silk.
For her part, Jenny wished the earl had nothing on beneath his coat as the day before. How easily she could draw her gloved hand from behind his neck, down past his collarbone, and slip it across the naked chest she’d glimpsed yesterday. In her fantasy, however, she wore no gloves and stroked him with her bare hands. If only she could feel whether the curls she’d viewed sprinkled across his chest were soft or coarse. If only …
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