It was not so much that she wanted to still be kissing him. Well, yes, it was. Then, at least, the first kiss would be put in its proper place instead of lurking next to every thought she had.
“I have, most likely, lost half of my financial backing for the mill I hope to build. So I have been making a list of likely prospects and composing letters in hopes of forming another partnership with someone who is willing to provide half the funding. And I’ve been trying to make sense of the plans for the mill and the housing for the workers.”
“Housing for the workers? That’s unusual.”
“Yes, it’s an idea I suggested to the duke when he was so discouraged after the failure of his bill to provide care for orphans and widows. Then I found out that the Long Bank Mill already provides such housing. Mr. Sebold seemed to be the logical man to approach about a new mill.”
“And Mr. Sebold is the one who bowed out?”
“Yes.” His response was instant and final. He might as well have yelled that he was not telling her any more no matter how many kisses she offered him.
“Do you fish, my lord?”
“I do not.”
“If you would like to learn to fish with a fly, I could teach you this evening.” That was an invitation to trouble. She knew it as well as he did. What she did not know was how he would react to it.
“I have work to finish.”
“But fishing is work.” She glanced at him and wished she could make him smile. “You know, Lord David, work can be fun.” She forestalled his comment with a raised hand. “You are going to say that I have never done a minute’s work in my life. But you are forgetting hours practicing scales on the pianoforte. This is exactly the point. I loved music, so the fact it was work did not matter.”
“Miss Castellano, I must compose a letter for more financial backing. The duke will not supply more than half from estate funds.”
“You are too conscientious, and do not think that is a compliment.” She was done trying to coax him. She was not a courtesan and could see where it would be a challenge to seduce someone so hardheaded.
“You can write the letter in the morning before Mr. Novins comes. Evening is the most perfect time of day to be outside. As the light fades and dusk and twilight follow.”
“Twilight, then dusk,” he said, as though she had made the mistake a dozen times before.
“Twilight comes first?” She stopped to face him. “I’ve always wondered.”
“Twilight comes right after the sun sets or before it rises. In the evening dusk comes after twilight, before complete dark, and in the morning dusk is before twilight, then the sun fills the sky.”
“Thank you.” She blinked, surprised at his prompt response. “Come fish with me this evening just before twilight until dusk.”
“We both know now that would not be wise.”
“But don’t you grow tired of doing what is wise?” She groaned out the last word and then smiled so he would know she was teasing.
Lord David did not return her smile, or answer her. He was the one who took the lead now, and Mia hurried to keep up.
“So you know about twilight and dusk from your man-of-science brother?”
“No.”
“From your days in the navy?”
“Yes.”
“You really were in the navy?”
“Yes.”
“And you truly were shipwrecked?”
“Yes.”
“You are not playing with me? You swear.”
He smiled a little, and Mia thought that perhaps the
phrase “playing with me” had not been the wisest phrase to use.
“Miss Castellano, I really was in the navy, was truly shipwrecked, and, with God as my witness, I am going to build a cotton mill.”
She winced as she realized that Lord David had told her nothing but the truth that night she had stalked out of the parlor. The night Janina took ill. She thought back to that conversation.
“I hope sometime you will tell me about your experience in Mexico.”
“No.” His eyes slanted over to her. “How do you like that word when I use it?”
Mia gave up; her disappointment was profound at the way he shut her out once again. Lord David was back to his favorite mode of conversation, one-word sentences.
“I do not know why I ever try to talk to you. You are hopeless!” she shouted. “Take the creel to the kitchen, Lord David. I am going for a walk.”
“Do not leave the property.” He hefted the creel but did not move toward the house.
“Oh, do be quiet. You are worse than a governess.” She walked briskly. All right, she ran back down toward the river, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible.
Mia followed the trail to a spot where a rock marked a river crossing. Sitting on the rock, her dress gathered up to keep it from the wet, she traced the path stone by stone, across the river, wondering where it led.
Who knows where any path leads?
she asked herself with a morose sniff. Now she felt like the philosophical Mr. Novins.
She cared more for Bruce the trout than for David Pennistan, so why did his behavior upset her? As profoundly intimate a kiss as possible one minute, and near-complete indifference the next.
Indifference. Made worse by the passionate connection of their kiss. The kiss meant nothing if it led nowhere, like a path that petered out before it reached any definable destination.
Had a kiss ever left her feeling indifferent? Mia could feel her heart sink as she realized that every single kiss before this one had been prosaic. Had left her unmoved. But this one …
Is that how courtesans felt about kisses? Unmoved? Perhaps, but kisses still would have meaning. For each one would mean money in the bank. The thought left her feeling vaguely ill.
Mia stood up, deciding she was in need of a small adventure to distract her. Carrying her slippers in her dress, which she gathered above her knees, she took a step onto the crossing.
Cold, it was delightfully cold. With more confidence than she had a right to, Mia found her way to the opposite shore. She dropped her dress and bent over to put on her shoes. She would climb to the crest of the hill and see what was over the rise.
“Mia! That is not Sandleton property. Come back here!”
She whirled. “But there’s no one here to contaminate. If I see someone I will run back.” She waved and turned to begin her climb.
“Come back! Now!”
“No.” His imperious voice could be so irritating. “No,” she called out again in a singsong voice.
“Listen to me. It’s not safe.” Lord David had crossed most of the way, still wearing his shoes. He slipped once and swore as he pulled himself out of the water.
Not safe? That gave her pause. It looked as bucolic as all the other hillsides they had driven by; the hills went up and down with trees and shrubbery in an endless parade.
Mia kept on, hiking more slowly. Within a few yards of the top, and the view, Lord David caught up with her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back toward the river.
“It’s Jasper Dilber. He owns this side of the stream and guards it with a gun and his dogs, his very fierce dogs. Come back.”
“All right. All right.” His grip was so tight that her fingers were turning numb. “But David, what are the chances that he will be anywhere near here?”
“The odds are very good, once he knows that Sandleton is occupied. You must have seen him this morning when you were angling.”
“The old man? He walked the other side of the bank once or twice but I was busy with Bruce so I did no more than glance at him.”
At that very moment she could have sworn she heard a dog barking. And there was no mistaking the sound of gunshot that echoed through this little valley. The bullet
thudded into the earth about ten feet away from where they stood.
“Damn times fifty.”
Lord David did not need to swear for Mia to understand trouble was rushing toward them. When she looked in the direction from which the shot had come, she saw the same old man, now pausing to reload. His dogs had no such encumbrance and raced toward them. They were black and not too big, but what they lacked in size they made up for with their snarling, barking frenzy. As if they could hardly wait to rip her throat out.
She grabbed a handful of rocks just as Lord David tore off his coat and wrapped it around his arm.
“Call ’em off, Dilber,” Lord David bellowed. “I’ll use my knife.”
Dilber looked up with a sharp jerk and Lord David showed a knife.
Lord David carries a knife. On his own property
.
The thoughts flitted through her mind with a dozen more practical ones. If she threw rocks, would that discourage the dogs or make them worse? Could they be worse than they were already? Could dogs be infected with smallpox? Would they go for her neck or her hands? If she ran to the river, would they follow? Could she and David cross faster than the dogs? Would she rather die of smallpox or a dog mauling?
“Stay behind me and lead us to the water,” Lord David whispered. His direction cleared her mind, and Mia began to do as he asked. Half pulling him, she did her best
to avoid anything that would trip him, watching the ground and trusting him to be her best defense.
The dogs were no more than five yards away when Dilber halted them with a sharp whistle. The command did not mean retreat but at least she and David had a better chance of reaching the water boundary before the brutes reached them.
“My guest crossed the river by mistake. She will not do it again.”
They had reached the bank and while Dilber watched, David turned to her. “Cross and I will follow once you are safe.”
How far did she have to go to be safe? Mia did not want to distract him by asking. So she made her way back to Pennistan property far more quickly than she had crossed before, not noticing the cold water at all this time. Only when she stepped onto the shore did Mia realize that she had forgotten to remove her shoes.
Before David could follow, Dilber whistled again, a different pattern this time, and the dogs charged forward.
Mia screamed as the dogs leaped at David and caught the arm he’d wrapped in his coat. She threw one rock as she moved across the water once again. She threw as many as she could find. Only one hit Lord David; the rest distracted the dogs so that he could back across the stream before the dogs attacked him again.
When Mia ran out of ammunition, she stopped to collect more and the dogs raced down to the water’s edge. Dilber whistled again, and before they knew if the dogs would follow them across the river, the animals obeyed
their master’s summons and abandoned pursuit. The frenzied barking continued.
When Lord David stepped on dry ground, Mia grabbed his arm.
“Are you hurt?”
“Out of sight, first.” He panted out the words as he grabbed her hand. They charged up the path to the lawn. Finally, with one last gunshot from Dilber and a whistle to the dogs, who fell silent, the adventure ended.
They both dropped to their knees on the grass.
“Are you hurt? Did they bite you?”
“No. They ruined a good piece of clothing but they did not draw blood.”
She turned to him and searched his face. “You took no harm?”
“None, Mia.”
He could have been angry with her. He could have been sarcastic. At the very least he could have been rude, but the sweetness with which he spoke, the reassurance of those two words melted something inside her.
He had risked his life to rescue her.
Mia fell back on the grass, her legs tucked under her. The lawn was dry and the sun was so welcoming that she thought this the perfect spot to recuperate.
“Are you going to faint? I will carry you to the house.”
“No, no,” she said. Reaching up, she took his hand and pulled him down on the grass beside her. “Stay here a bit and let the sun dry us. I did not fall in the water like you did, but somehow my dress is all wet. If we are at least
dry, then Mrs. Cantwell is less likely to ask what happened.”
They lay side by side for a few minutes. She could hear bees and birds and Lord David’s breathing as it slowed to normal. She began to laugh; she could not help it.
“Are you having hysterics?” His tone made it sound more frightening than dogs or smallpox.
“No. I am not having hysterics.” Another question. One more and she
would
stop counting.
“You are truly laughing.”
Mia nodded, even though he was not looking at her. “The absurdity of it. Can you see the story in the gossip column? ‘Lord David Pennistan finally loses a fight. To a dog.’”
“‘Mia Castellano finds that dogs in England do not understand the word no.’” David made his own contribution.
“‘Dilber, despite his sixty-plus years, easily defeats Pennistan without throwing a punch.’”
“‘Pennistan lives in fear that Miss Castellano will eventually find herself in a predicament from which he cannot save her.’” Now he was laughing, too.
She had never heard him laugh before. She marveled at the richness of it, as though to compensate for how rarely he used it. He stopped too soon.
When she opened her eyes she saw him raised on his elbow, watching her.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I accept the blame completely. I should have warned you about Dilber. He is no more than
a vindictive old fool but still, with a gun and those dogs, he is dangerous.”
“Does he think you covet his property?”
“No, he covets whatever is ours.”
His eyes made her forget what they were talking about. As much as she wanted to hear him laugh again, she loved his eyes when he was being serious, the way he spoke so much more eloquently with them than with words.
“Why is it that you handle emergencies with such a cool head?”
“That was an adventure, Lord David, not an emergency. You would call me a hysterical woman or some kind of green girl if I cowered when faced with an adventure.”
“Since when does it matter what I call you?”
He did not wait for an answer but pressed his mouth, his body to her. Any remaining chill disappeared. For a hard, reticent, insensitive man, his soft dear kisses conveyed volumes.
She lost the ability to think as she began yet another adventure with him, a further step into a world she had never imagined before and now could hardly wait to become a part of. Their kisses grew more fevered, the feel of his lips on her neck, beneath her ear and trailing down until she could feel her breasts peak. Suddenly he made the cruelest move of all: Just when she thought the world had turned into a place for only the two of them, he rolled away from her.