Anne Barbour (30 page)

Kate threw up her arms in a gesture of exasperation.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Lawrence didn’t bring me to Pucklechurch in order to compromise me. He merely wanted to go to a prizefight here.”

For an instant David wondered if he were going irretrievably mad.

“A—a what!?”

“A mill, David,” Lawrence interposed frantically. His nose had stopped bleeding, and apparently had begun functioning in a normal fashion. “I only wanted to see the mill—just outside of town, you know. Been making plans for weeks—had a wager with Crawford—and I was just about to leave, when Mama came up with this confounded idea that I should take Kate to the village. As though she needed me to accompany her.”

“I tried to tell Aunt Regina that I preferred to go alone,” said Kate. “Frankly, after the episode in the conservatory, I didn’t trust her. But—well, you know how she is—she kept going on about it, and since it was only a trip to the village, in broad daylight, I finally agreed.” She glared malevolently at Lawrence. “Then, as we left the gates, he turned in the opposite direction from the village and sprang his horses! I told him to stop at once, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Lawrence shrugged uneasily. “Well, if I had, I was sure you’d jump out of the curricle, or something stupid.” He turned to David and stretched out his hands placatingly. “I told her we would probably be back by dark.”

“Probably?” asked David in a strangled voice.

“Well, the thing is ...” He stopped and blinked uncertainly.

“Yes, Lawrence?” David’s voice was deceptively mild. “Tell me what the thing is. Did you think Kate would enjoy an afternoon at a prizefight, sitting in an open vehicle surrounded by the raff and skaff of this county and several others?”

“Well, no, of course not.” Lawrence stiffened with self-righteous outrage. “I planned to leave her here at the Angel.”

“Of course, how stupid of me.” David spoke quietly, but with such menace that Lawrence flinched. “Much better to leave her unattended and unprotected in a country inn, the target of attention from a flock of taproom habitués.”

“No,” wailed Lawrence, “you don’t understand. I had arranged for Phoebe, her maid, to meet us here. I had bespoken a private room where Kate could wait—she would have been quite comfortable.”

“If you think,” Kate broke in, “that being held a virtual prisoner for hours in a cramped, smelly little inn with nothing to occupy myself constitutes a comfortable afternoon ...”

“But where, then, is Phoebe?” interrupted David.

Lawrence squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, she never, ah, showed up. Don’t know what could have happened to her.”

“And the room, Lawrence,” added Kate poking an angry finger into his chest. “Tell him what happened to the room.”

“Oh. Yes. Well, it seemed the twit of a landlord rented it to somebody else before we got here. Really, David,” he blustered. “Somebody ought to launch an investigation into the shoddy practices of today’s innkeepers. Some chap offered him more money—rooms devilish hard to come by with the mill scheduled for today, of course—and he just gave my room away.”

“At which point,” said David smoothly, “you immediately made preparations to return home.”

Lawrence fell silent.

“Return home, indeed,” snapped Kate. “Oh no, the Honorable Lawrence proceeded ahead with his plans, blithely assuring me that Phoebe would no doubt show up at any moment. He said he would escort me to the church, and I could just curl up in a pew and wait. Nobody would bother me there, he said.”

As she spoke, Kate’s hair seemed to take on an even more brilliant, flame-like hue until it appeared she might simply shoot skyward like a fireworks display.

“And
then,”
she continued, her hazel eyes spitting sparks, “he complained that if Phoebe did not appear, it would be necessary to drive me home tonight, which was unfortunate, because he had planned on a tight little beefsteak dinner with a few of his cronies, whom he hasn’t seen in donkey’s years. In fact, he rather thought it would be quite jolly to spend the night here! That’s when I finally decided to take matters into my own hands and drive myself back to Westerly. I might have made part of the journey in the dark, but it was better than staying here with this—this devotee of the Fancy.”

“Is this true, Lawrence?” Again, David did not raise his voice.

“Well, she’s making too much of the whole thing, of course, but—aaugh!”

Once again, Lawrence found himself stretched out on the stable floor, once again bleeding profusely, this time from his mouth.

David stepped over him and began to draw the chestnuts out of their stalls. When he was able to grasp both leading reins in one hand, he turned to place an arm about Kate’s shoulders, and together they made their way into the yard.

“Wha’ ‘oo hoo’n?” called Lawrence in agonized accents, as he lay among the stable floor litter. “Oo’re nah go’ leemee ‘ere!”

Gently, David shut the stable door. Turning, he beckoned an ostler and gave instructions for the horses to be hitched to Lawrence’s curricle, and for Barney to be given space to rest until someone could be sent for him. Ten minutes later, David and Kate were on their way. The stable door remained closed.

“What a dreadful shame,” said Kate some moments later as they tooled along the road leading from Pucklechurch. “Lawrence will miss the mill, after all. In fact, I wonder how he will get home?”

“I should imagine he will connect up with friends and beg a ride.”

“I would not mind,” Kate said grimly, “if he had to crawl to Westerly over broken glass.” She turned to David, her expression lightening. “But you didn’t tell me how you happened, to—” She stopped, an arrested expression on her face.

“David?” The question in her voice was tentative. “You look—different. Has something happened?”

David returned her gaze seriously, and then pulled off the road into a small spinney. The sun was sinking low in the sky, and if they tarried, they would not get home before dark, but his joy was too great to be contained. He had already waited too long to tell her.

“Yes, my dear, something has happened.” And, his words tumbling over one another, he told her of what had occurred at the villa.

“I am sorry beyond words that I was unable to save Philip,” he concluded. “But I know now that I was truly unable to do so.”

“Oh, David.” She reached up to smooth a raven lock that had fallen across his forehead. “I knew that must have been the case—but now I’m glad that you know it, too. He is at peace now—and I think you are, too. I—I think there will be no more nightmares.”

“No,” he echoed, “no more nightmares.”

They sat silently for a moment, hands entwined. David knew he should pick up the reins and jog the horses into activity, but he could not bear to break this moment of communion. Unthinking, he lifted his hand to touch Kate’s hair, and as he did so, she placed her own on his sleeve. He turned then, and took her in his arms, burying his face in that glorious mane.

Kate uttered a small sob of joy and pressed her face into David’s chest. She knew his embrace was merely a release from the burden he had carried for so long, but it felt wonderful beyond imagining. Dear Lord, how could she leave him to go to live in Brighton, or London, or some other awful place? She should push away from him now. Yes, in just one more sweet moment she would remove herself from his strong arms, and they would continue on their way. One more earth-shattering moment. But, what was he murmuring against her hair, and why were his lips moving to her face—brushing so softly against her cheek?

She could feel the pulse thundering in his throat. Then, she could no more have stopped herself from raising her lips to his than she could have stopped breathing in the scented summer air that flowed about them in magical currents.

David’s last thought before his mouth came down on Kate’s was a reminder of his promise to himself to be slow and gentle in his wooing of her, but it was instantly drowned in the heady sensation of her closeness. His lips moved softly on hers, and as he tasted the tender warmth there, his kiss became urgent and demanding.

Kate felt as though she were drowning in her love for him, and she lost herself in the dizzying wonder of his touch. Her hands reached up to stroke the dark curls at the nape of his neck, and he groaned, clasping her as though he would draw her into him. Her lips parted to welcome him, the heat of his passion creating a running fire in her veins.

He drew back from her at last, and took her face in both his hands, looking at her with a hunger too long denied.

“But why didn’t you tell me,” Kate said at last, smiling with the brilliance of the sun at noon.

“Tell you ...?” he whispered harshly.

“That you love me, of course.” She laughed aloud. “That you love me just as much as I love you.”

“You do?” he asked incredulously. “You do love me? I mean really love me—not as your friend—or your big brother?”

“David, it’s been so long since I had any sisterly feelings for you—well, I’m embarrassed to tell you how they have changed.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her again, stroking her until she thought she would go wild with wanting him. When his hands brushed the curve of her breasts, a gasp escaped her, and she shifted slightly so that his fingers could mold themselves against her.

He stilled and, after a long moment, straightened. His breathing rasped in his throat as he pressed her hands against his lips.

“May I take it, Miss Millbank, that your would-be betrothal to Mr. Lawrence Merritt is no longer a consideration?”

“Be—Lawrence?” She jerked upright. “David, how can you ask?”

“Just getting everything in order. If you’re sure there is no other claim to your affections, Miss Millbank, may I offer— that is, would you do me the honor...?” He drew her into his arms again for one more, searing kiss. “Oh, God, Kate,” he breathed roughly, “will you marry me?”

Her gaze, as she looked into his eyes, brimmed with laughter and love as she replied softly, “Of course, I will. I thought you would never, ever in this lifetime, ask.”

This, of course, called for another long kiss that sent Kate into another spiral of wanting, and it was some moments before she emerged, flushed and breathless to gaze into his eyes. To her surprise, she found there a look of concern.

“Kate,” he began hesitantly. “There is something we should discuss before—that is ...” He stopped.

“Why, what is it, love?” queried Kate playfully. “Don’t tell me you are having second thoughts already. I promise you, I shall take action for breach of promise.”

David’s expression did not lighten, and Kate’s immediately became serious as well.

“David?” she said slowly.

He put her gently from him and withdrew to the far edge of his seat.

“You will shortly be a very wealthy woman, Kate.”

She said nothing, but watched him from beneath lifted brows.

“I, on the other hand, can offer you nothing. At least, for now. I—I would not...”

“Did you not just offer me your love? And do you not think that is all I want from you—that, and a nursery full of children?” She smiled wickedly, preparing to nestle once more into his embrace.

But David remained rigid. “I would not,” he plunged on determinedly, “want you to think ...”

“That you are marrying me for my money? David, you are being incredibly mutton-headed,” said his beloved. “Do you think I am unaware that my wealth is a lure for fortune hunters? And do you think I do not know you better than to suspect you of evil designs on my fortune?”

“But everyone will assume ...”

“Not that I care, but I expect all the world will congratulate you on having made an advantageous marriage.”

“Yes, but...”

“And just think, my very dearest love, what we can do for Westerly now! You must admit, having all the funds you need to restore the estate will be a splendid thing.”

David sighed. “You are eminently correct, my practical little darling. And my first project, after I have acquired all your lovely money, is to begin a methodical excavation of your villa, starting from the top down.”

“Oh, David!” Kate breathed ecstatically. “That would be...”

“Followed by the establishment of two or three schools, set up on the estate and in the village. Do you think you could manage their supervision?”

“Oh, David!” she sighed again, looking so beautiful that he was obliged to draw her into his arms once more.

It was another long moment before the curricle at last was set into motion. Conscious of other vehicles on the road, Kate did not ride, as she would have liked, with her head on David’s shoulder, but her fingers frequently went to his to be clasped possessively.

“Aunt Regina may be a little put out at this turn of events,” said Kate, at last.

David laughed. “She will be absolutely livid. At least, I certainly hope she will. I think we’ll have to do something about the soon-to-be Dowager Countess of Falworth.”

“That sounds rather sinister.”

“Don’t think I haven’t considered from time to time pushing her off the handiest cliff, but what I meant was, I believe I shall suggest rather strongly that she remove to the dower house after we’re married. After we’re married,” he repeated happily. “I do like the sound of that.”

Kate wriggled closer to him, and there being no other riders on the road, she brushed her lips against the tip of one ear.

“Mmm. If you do that anymore, the wedding ceremony may become redundant.”

She laughed. “You did not tell me how you came to know where to find me,” she said.

He related the sequence of events that had occurred on his return that morning from the villa.

“I’ll have to thank Aunt Fred when we get home,” he concluded, “for without her, I should not have known where to start.”

“But,” said Kate in puzzlement, “Aunt Fred knew about the mill. I was with her last night when she and one of the footmen were discussing the odds-on favorite. She must have guessed what was in Lawrence’s mind today—why in the world do you suppose she didn’t tell you?”

David grinned slowly. “Because she’s a supremely crafty old file, that’s why. She knew that the thought of you forced into a betrothal with Lawrence was likely to drive me into my own declaration. I have even more to thank her for than I realized,” he said with a chuckle.