by Lauren Smith
Then she kissed him, her lips claiming his with a sure possessiveness such as Adam had never known. He had always regarded himself as something of a ladies’ man with a knowledge of the ways of the world, but this soul-searing kiss from a female highwayman – highwaywoman – was like nothing he had ever experienced. Her lips were soft but demanding, exploring the contours of his mouth. Her tongue followed, limning his lips with a teasing gentleness even as her mouth pressed more demandingly against his.
Adam felt a surge of feeling go through his body the like of which he had never before known. Of their own volition his arms went around her, a loving cage that he never wanted to release…
Then blackness descended and he knew nothing.
Chapter 6
“Mr. Ferrour? It is time to get up, Mr. Ferrour.”
Reluctantly Adam opened one eye. John Coachman stood over him, his dressing gown over his arm.
“What?” he muttered.
“It is almost time for breakfast, and remember you have your riding engagement with her ladyship after.”
He was in bed, Adam knew, but had no memory of how he had gotten there. He had been in the stables, hadn’t he? With the highwaywoman… The memory of her pale hair spilling down like light tantalized him. And that kiss…! How had he ended up here in his bed?
“Please come, Mr. Ferrour. The Earl is waiting for you.”
Surely he cannot be proposing we play cards before breakfast? Adam thought wildly, then shook his head. That was a mistake, for the ache he had barely been conscious of raged back. Slowly he pulled up into a sitting position, which aided the ache a little; at least he didn’t feel another wave of nausea. What…?
He rubbed the back of his head, not at all surprised to find a tender spot. So the highwayman – the highwaywoman – had an accomplice. Her kiss had been spectacular, enough to affect his rational processes, but it had not been enough to knock him out from behind. Logic would dictate that the accomplice had brought him upstairs, removed his robe and shoes, and tucked him into bed. The whole idea both angered him and made him sick.
Adam rose slowly and slipped his arms into the robe John Coachman extended. It was only when he went to tie the sash that he noticed the ring on his finger. His ring, with the head of Athena.
“There you are, my boy!” the Earl said jovially. He sat at the head of the table in the cavernous dining room, tucking into a plate piled high with food. An impassive Bentick stood behind him. “Help yourself, or tell Bentick what you want. Might as well make him earn his keep.”
Adam nodded toward his host, not doing his head any good, then murmured, “I’ll see what’s there.”
It wasn’t worth the looking. A few dried-out looking slices of roast beef, a plate half full of greasy eggs, some maltreated potatoes, and a few pieces of toast, which looked the best of anything on the breakfront. Gingerly he took a tiny portion of each then sat at the only other place setting, to his host’s right. By then the seemingly immobile Bentick had placed a beaker of ale on his mat.
“Good morning, sir,” Adam said as affably as he could. “Is Lady Amelia not joining us?”
“Silly girl. She’s breakfasting in her room this morning. But never fear she’ll be down for your riding date. She’s been looking forward to it, mark my words.” The Earl shoveled a huge amount of potatoes which looked more than slightly burnt into his mouth.
“I have too,” said Adam and felt the bitter taste of a lie. His thumb worried the ring on his finger. His blonde highwaywoman had given it back to him while he was unconscious. Why had she done that? Admittedly it had little value compared to some of the things he owned, but the knights of the road were notorious about taking anything of value they could sell. While Adam regarded the monetary value as trumpery, it could have garnered a small sum of money for the highwaywoman.
And for that matter, who had taken him up to bed? Adam was not an exceedingly large man, but he was tall and well-muscled, and in no way a light weight, especially when carried up a flight of stairs. The obvious solution was that the beautiful blonde had an accomplice. A lover? Adam was surprised at how distasteful he found that idea.
“Eat, eat,” the Earl commanded, dislodging an ort of potato that had clung to his chin. “Riding is a strenuous exercise, and you’ll need your strength.”
If it had been the highwayman – highwaywoman – with whom he was going riding Adam would be more enthusiastic. He wished he knew her name. If it were to be she, and he had Bucephalus here… then how he would have looked forward to the ride.
Manfully he took a bite and then under the beaming eye of his host took another one. About the only thing he could say was that the food was not as dire as the night before.
“Amelia’s always loved to ride. Couldn’t keep her off a horse when she was younger. Now she has to oversee the house – her mother died when she was just a tot, you know. Does a good job of it, too. Deserves some fancy stuff, though, parties and such, not just being caught here in the country. You’ll see she gets all such fripperies, won’t you?”
While Lady Amelia would probably present an acceptable appearance if stylishedly gowned, Adam wasn’t sure someone so lacking in personality would be happy in London society. Still, he nodded. He was a kind man at heart, and he would give her ladyship all the parties and clothes and such due to his wife.
He just could not guarantee he would give her his heart, for as maddening as it was he feared – for the moment at least – it was held in the hands of the beautiful blonde highwaywoman.
“Ah, London!” said the Earl expansively. “It will be so wonderful to be in Town again. The country is all well and good in its place, but there is nothing so exciting as Town. Once the ceremony is over and you two children are off on your wedding trip, I’ll enjoy looking up my old friends there, reacquainting myself with my clubs… yes, it’s going to be very exciting.” He cackled expansively.
Adam watched him with an ill-concealed sense of horror. He might be an Earl, but there were strict limits to what Society would accept and if the old man cheated in London as openly as he had the night before Adam had no idea of if the old man would survive long enough to make it out of Town. Society took its gambling debts and the honor necessary to gaming very seriously.
After forcing down as much of the breakfast as he could, Adam stood and gave a slight bow to his host. “If you’ll forgive me, sir, I think I’ll go and see if Lady Amelia is ready to go riding.”
“Oh, go on, go on. If I know my girl she’s already down there waiting on you.”
The old man obviously knew his daughter. She was waiting outside the front door, mounted on what most be one of the oldest ponies in existence. Her riding dress was not only sublimely unstylish, but at least two generations out of date. The incredibly full skirt swept down until it almost dragged the ground, while her ancient hat was at least as big around as a barrel. Two scraggly and moth-eaten plumes dribbled down her back. Lady Amelia obviously knew what a quiz she was, for she refused to look him in the face, even when he came to her side and placed a sketchy kiss on the back of her hand, though she did not offer the common courtesy of removing her glove.
“Good morning, Lady Amelia.”
“Good morning, Mr. Ferrour,” she returned in a voice almost too soft to be heard.
The superannuated stableman brought up Adam’s horse, which was just as bad as he had feared. At least as old as her ladyship’s, it appeared that it might have been a sweet goer once long ago, but now its muzzle was stippled with white and its eyes dull.
Adam mounted. Might as well get this charade done with, he thought.
“And where shall we ride, Lady Amelia?”
“That direction is pleasant,” she said. Luckily she gestured with her riding crop, for Adam could not be sure of her words.
Whatever else they were, the horses had been well trained. The slightest indication of the reins set Adam’s horse in motion, and Lady Amelia’s seemed to get its instructions by some sort
of mental contact, as it did not seem that lady moved at all. Keeping to the slow amble that seemed to be all the horses were capable of, the two drifted across a space of land that was – to Adam, at least – remarkable mainly for its unremarkability.
“Have you lived in the castle all your life?”
Her ladyship nodded. “Yes. I did visit Tunbridge Wells once, but nothing happened.”
Knowing his world, Adam correctly interpreted this to mean she did not get an acceptable offer of marriage, even in that relatively unfashionable town. Between her lack of sophistication and address – to say nothing of her father’s obsession and parlous finances – it was sad but not surprising.
“Have you ever been to London?”
She shook her head. “Never. I assume you will be desirous of us removing there after – after we are – ” she gulped and looked determinedly into the distance. “I will admit I am a little timorous of going. From what I have read it is so big and active and the people are so… so… I cannot think of a word, but they are what I am not. I would not fit in.”
It was as many words as she had ever said to him. Adam could hear the hesitation in her voice and it roused him to sympathy. Hardly an emotion on which to build a marriage, he thought. But it is what it is, so I must do my best for her.
He tried mightily not to think of the beautiful blonde highwaywoman, who would impress all of Town and fearlessly behave like a queen.
“You will,” he said in a gentle voice, as he would to a frightened child. “I will watch over you, so you have no need to be apprehensive.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, then yawned prodigiously. “I am so sorry. Please forgive me. It is not because you are tiresome or boring. I have not been sleeping well lately.”
“Anticipation?” Adam’s voice was humorous. “Or apprehension? I assure you there is nothing for you to worry about.” Nothing except a highwaywoman who was affecting him in ways he never had been before. That kiss…! Adam vowed to keep that piece of knowledge to himself, but could not help but ask, “Were you aware that there is a highwayman in the area?”
She seemed unalarmed, which surprised him. “Yes, Pappa said that there was. He has given Stovall – our stableman – orders to shoot him on sight.”
Adam wondered if the ancient creature could even lift a firearm, let alone see well enough to hit anything, but kept silent. The thought that the beautiful blonde might even be wounded made him shudder.
“According to the newspapers, there are a number of the miscreants in the country,” Lady Amelia said.
“Do you read the papers?”
She gave him the ghost of a smile, the first flash of personality he had seen in her. “There is very little else to do here, Mr. Ferrour. We do not entertain, so as far as housekeeping there is only Pappa and me to be considered. The castle desperately needs repair, but as you are undoubtedly cognizant of our financial situation, you realize why that has not been an object of possibility or even concern. I do ride on occasion, but Butterfly here is far too old and infirm to give me anything but a walk, and I even fear that will soon be beyond her.”
For the first time there was an intensity of feeling about her. She leaned forward and patted the old pony’s neck, gently murmuring words Adam could not hear.
“Your father told me you were very fond of riding.”
“At one time. When I could. Butterfly was my first mount. I received her on my fifth birthday. Then when I was older Pappa bought me a string of very handsome blooded hunters. I didn’t ride Butterfly after that, but she waited for me, and she was there when the bailiffs came to take the hunters. She is getting too old, though, and I wish nothing more than to let her live out her life in comfort.” The pain in her voice was obvious.
“A warm stall, fresh water, good feed and a green pasture to enjoy in her final days?” Adam asked, then seeing the tear lurking in the corner of her eye, added “I assure you Butterfly will have everything a horse could wish for the rest of her life. This one, too.”
“That’s Edwina. My governess rode her… at least, until Pappa had to let her go. He did give her a sterling reference, though he could not give her any sort of a pension, even after she had been with us so long. The least I could do was look after the beast she loved so well.”
“I hope the lady secured other employment.”
“She did, though not of the kind she deserved. We still correspond in spite of the shabby way she was treated by the Radston family.”
“How long has your father been a…” Adam hesitated; he could not say the word ‘cheater’ to the man’s daughter, even though it was unquestionably true. “… been the way he is?”
Lady Amelia turned her head away, giving Adam nothing but a view of the back of her appalling hat. “A gamester? A dishonest gamester? That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? You shouldn’t mince words, because it is most definitely true, and everyone knows it. That’s why he has not been welcome in Town for years and why no one… no one has offered for me. Who wants a penniless wife with a scandalous father?”
Her voice tore at Adam’s heart. He might not come to love her, might not even like her once they came to know each other, but the mixture of anguish and bitterness behind her words would have affected a soul of stone. Whatever her problems, she certainly did not deserve them.
The open grass was giving way to trees; not thick enough to be called a wood, there were still enough to give a welcome shade. Here the undergrowth was taller, and Adam was quick to notice that both horses bent their heads to snap at the greenery. Before he left Clereston Castle, he vowed, he would have John Coachman go wherever he had to and get the best feed he could find for these two ponies, and yes, that old plough horse too. Apparently they were the only friends his bride-to-be had. Yes, she was a sad excuse for a human being, but there was hope that in Town she might change and grow.
But never, Adam thought, into anything to equal the blonde highwaywoman…
They walked on without talking until the shadows were deep enough to give a bare illusion of privacy. Finally Adam realized that nothing was being served by hesitating and stopped his horse, dismounting with a fluid grace.
“May we talk?”
Lady Amelia pulled her horse to a standstill. “Of course.”
Adam raised his arms and lifted her – his affianced wife, he realized with a small shock, the woman to whom he would be legshackled for the rest of his life – to the ground. He had acknowledged it almost since his father’s first dictum, but at this moment the idea was more real than it ever had been. This was the first time he had touched anything but her hand; he would spend the rest of his life with the freedom to touch her body… but would he want to?
It made no difference either way; his father had made up his mind. For a fleeting moment Adam hated him.
I must not let my feelings show to this woman, he thought with a flash of compassion. She is as powerless in this as I.
“I venture that you know about the agreement between our fathers?”
“Of course I do. Pappa has talked of nothing since your father’s man of business came to discuss the s… the situation.”
“You almost said ‘sale,’ did you not?”
Her head was bowed, her voice thick. She nodded, the action shaking free a cloud of fragments from the scraggly feathers on her hat. Adam resolved that the first thing after their marriage he would burn it. “I am sorry. I did not mean to be insulting. I know that it is how things are done, but…”
“You did not insult me. I confess I felt much the same way when Father announced his decision to me,” Adam said in a gentle voice. “And I too know that is how things are done, whether we like them or not.”
“Thank you,” her ladyship murmured. “You are most kind.”
Now, Adam thought. It will either be now or it will not be never, which will infuriate both our fathers. “You and I both know what our fathers wish, what they have decided, so I ask you most formally, will you become
my bride?”
Lady Amelia was silent for a heart-stoppingly long minute before nodding her head almost infinitesimally. “I will.”
“I will try my best to be a good husband to you.”
“And I will do my best to be a good wife to you.”
Emboldened by this irrevocable step, Adam gently drew the hat from her head, allowing the sunshine leaking through the leaves to splash over her. Her hair was more golden than it had appeared in last evening’s candlelight, but what drew Adam’s notice was her face. The sullen, intractable look of the night before was gone, replaced with a soft, neutral, almost total lack of an expression. Yes, she and the highwaywoman of the night before had to be most definitely related.
It was not an unusual situation; many men like the Earl were accustomed to take their pleasure with local lassies. Obviously his father had, as one only had to look at Bentick for proof, and Adam wondered how many people in the area bore Radston faces. Such widespread pleasurings were a practice that Adam had never understood; physical pleasure was well and good, but aside from some purely commercial couplings, Adam had always thought sex should be an expression of love. He had kept his feelings to himself though while listening to his friends’ tales of amorous adventures, knowing that such romanticism would make him the object of scorn.
Now he was to marry a woman whom he not only did not love, but whom he barely knew. And his heart…
Firmly putting the image of a blonde hoyden in the moonlight out of his mind, Adam thought only of the future – a future without her.
“Perhaps we should go back now,” he said, offering his arm to Lady Amelia. “We don’t want to overstrain the horses.”
“You are very kind,” murmured her ladyship.
Adam felt constrained to say “You have made me very happy.” It was not completely an untruthful statement; he would be very happy to keep access to his father’s money. Whether that made him a weakling or a villain didn’t matter; he knew that dynasties were formed by arranged marriages. It was the way things were done. He was fortunate that Lady Amelia seemed to be such an amenable woman; that was a kindness on his part – he actually thought her the most nothing of a human being he had ever met. “I think we shall rub along together most harmoniously. Now shall we return and tell your father the happy news?”