Authors: Diana Quincy
He indulged himself by racing across open spaces on his own, slowing when he moved through trees, taking the occasional jump that caught his fancy. After a particularly daunting jump, Rand slid off his mount to give the animal a break. With the horse sampling some nearby grass, he rested on the trunk of a felled tree. His damn shoulder throbbed and he gave it a vigorous rub to help lessen the pain.
The sounds of galloping hooves cut into his peace, growing louder as the animal neared. Someone else had apparently veered off from the crowd since it sounded like a lone rider approached. Instead of slowing, the pounding hooves picked up speed as they neared.
The rider must be heading for the jump he’d just cleared. Pushing to his feet, Rand moved into the clearing to watch, hoping the swell was a seasoned rider because the jump was a treacherous one. His eyes sharpened on the approaching chestnut mare and the feminine, blue-clad figure upon it.
His heart froze.
Kitty
. Heading straight for calamity. The jump would be risky for anyone riding astride, but she rode sidesaddle, encumbered by the fabric of her riding habit. She whizzed past, heading straight for the jump, not seeming to notice him standing in the trees.
She might well break her neck. The image of Kitty’s broken body lying on the ground gouged his insides. “Kitty, no!” he yelled urgently, just as she sailed upward. Time seemed to slow; it felt like forever before her mare touched down on the other side with Kitty still safely in the saddle. He released a breath of extreme relief, trying to calm the chaotic pounding of his heart.
She turned her mare around in a smooth motion, steering the animal in Rand’s direction. Now that she’d skirted danger, he couldn’t help but admire her excellent form in the saddle. “Are you mad?” she yelled at him when she approached. “I could have been thrown!”
“Exactly.” Fury filled his chest, replacing his sense of relief. “You almost got yourself killed.”
Her blue eyes blazed with anger. “Thanks to you. Bellowing at me like that, startling both me and my animal.”
“What were you thinking to take that jump?”
She slipped off her mare and marched up to him. “What I do, and when I do it, and how I do it” —she poked his chest with her finger to emphasize her point— “is none of your concern.”
He couldn’t believe she was jabbing him in the chest. “Have you taken complete leave of your senses?” He grabbed her hand to stay her annoying assault. “You almost broke your neck.”
“My neck is none of your business any longer.” She tried to snatch her gloved hand away, but he tightened his grip, holding her in place. “Nor should you be concerned about any other part of my person.”
“If you think I am going to sit by and watch you kill yourself, you are sadly mistaken,” he said furiously.
“Why you—” She growled with frustration as she struggled to loosen his grip on her. “Unhand me, you lout.”
“Not until you calm down.” She met his gaze, her eyes glowing with angry defiance. The agitation lit up her face, making her even lovelier. For a moment, neither of them spoke while anger arced through the air. Red bathed her cheeks and her breathing became more apparent beneath the fine pelisse cloth which hid her flesh from him.
The passion of his fury transformed into something else, fueling a furious arousal. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard, forcing open her lips to taste her. She kissed him back with just as much aggression and he could sense the co-mingling of anger and desire each time her tongue stroked his. He widen his lips over hers, devouring her mouth as his blood surged through his veins.
He ached to touch his lips to her neck, but her blasted cravat impeded him. He broke the kiss, his hands going to loosen the neck cloth. Her hands fumbled into his and for a crushing moment, he thought she intended to deny him. But then her eyes caught and held his, the blue in them catching the light, and she loosened the perfect bow of the soft muslin fabric.
His pulse roared in his ears as she pulled the cravat free, baring a sliver of pale flesh. He pressed his lips against the tender spot. “Your neck is definitely my concern,” he growled, before nipping the spot with his teeth. She moaned and pushed into him and he soothed the spot with his tongue.
He returned to press his lips against hers, to taste her again, as if he could never get enough. He embraced her, running his hands down her back and over the rounded flesh of her bottom. “Every part of your person is most definitely my concern,” he said against her lips, giving the womanly flesh in his hands a firm squeeze.
“Stop talking,” she said in a breathless voice, drawing him back into a hungry kiss, mating with his tongue, their lips and teeth teasing, tasting, and clashing with each other.
He brought his fingers up to her riding jacket and began to unfasten the frogs that held it closed. She helped him, pulling off her jacket while he pushed it down her arms, throwing it to the ground. His seeking hands roamed over the cambric fabric of her habit shirt, with its high collar trimmed with lace.
“Just tear it,” she said between urgent kisses.
He cupped her breasts, giving them a light squeeze while teasing the hardened tips with his thumbs. “You have no idea how much I would like to. But you can’t possibly return with a torn shirt without being irrevocably ruined.”
She tugged at the shirt collar, seeming intent on tearing it herself. “The cravat and jacket will hide any damage to the shirt.”
“Then I am happy to oblige.” He tore the collar of her shirt open to bare the smooth cream of her décolletage and the upper swells of her sweet breasts.
His arousal swelled to the point of pain. He’d never thirsted for a woman as much as he wanted her at this moment. He pressed hungry kisses down the smooth warmth of her neck and across her chest. He tongued the mounds that were still mostly covered by her corset.
She grumbled in frustration. “I’ve always hated corsets.”
He smiled against her breasts. “It would take more than a bit of fabric to deter me.”
She caught her breath when he eased one breast out of the confines of her corset. He stopped and looked for a moment at the exquisite mound with its eager pink tip. “If I live one hundred years, I don’t believe I shall ever see anything so fine.”
He lowered his head to her breast, pressing worshipful kisses along the tender flesh, flicking teasing licks at its point. He lost himself in the taste of her womanly flesh, her breathy cries of arousal, and the heady scent of lavender.
A sudden awareness hit him. He stilled and straightened, the hairs on the back of his neck tingled. “Someone’s coming.”
Leaning against his strength, she listened for it too; the sounds of an approaching riding party, theirs in all likelihood. “We’re sheltered by the trees,” she whispered. “Perhaps they’ll ride by us.”
“No,” he said briskly, stooping to grab her discarded jacket. “They’ll see the horses. They probably already have and that’s what brought them here.”
“Laurie.” Panic crossed her flushed face. “He can’t see me like this.”
He stifled the urge to curse at the mention of her betrothed’s name. Instead, he helped her don the fitted jacket.
“Damnation,” she cried in frustration struggling with the jacket. “Why are these things so tight?”
He managed to get it on her. As she struggled to fasten it, he looked for the cravat. Spotting it nearby, he picked it up, shaking out the grass and leaves.
Feminine laughter trickled through the trees, followed by Miss Campbell’s voice. “Perhaps they’re hiding from us.” She came into view, but did not see them at first because she was looking behind her, calling back to whoever accompanied her. Then her foot stumbled over uneven ground, causing her to face forward to regain her step. She almost bumped into Rand before catching sight of him.
“Oh, there you are Lord Randolph,” she said with a beguiling smile.
Kitty must have moved because Miss Campbell looked in her direction. “Hello Kat,” she said breezily. But then she froze, the color bleeding out of her face, her eyes riveted on Kitty’s torn neckline. “What happened to you?” she whispered.
Clutching her torn blouse closed at her neck, Kitty stared back at Lexie, speechless, her lips apart. Pink stained her cheeks, her breathing coming hard.
Miss Campbell’s gaze darted between them, narrowing in on the mangled cravat lying useless in Rand’s hand. “You beast.” Horror washed across her features. “You attacked her.”
It took him a moment to process her words, to understand that she accused him of the most dishonorable offense possible. He saw immediately that Miss Campbell had also handed him a way to save Kitty from complete ruin, and so he seized it. “Yes. I have no excuse for my behavior.”
Miss Campbell’s eyes widened in shocked disbelief. “You cad,” she hissed at him. “Laurie will call you out.” She turned to call out to her companions.
Kitty came to life, leaping toward Miss Campbell and grabbing her arm to keep her from alerting the others. “No, Lexie, hush!”
“Everything will be well, dear.” She patted Kitty’s arm. “I’m going to summon Laurie.”
“No,” Kitty gasped, her eyes wild with panic. “You mustn’t.”
“No one will blame you, Kat. Least of all Laurie. Surely you know that.” She spoke in a soothing tone which boosted Rand’s estimation of the lady. Then her tone hardened. “But Lord Randolph is no gentleman. Laurie must be allowed to deal with him accordingly.”
Kitty’s fingers whitened as they clawed Miss Campbell’s arm. “No, Lexie. You don’t understand—”
“On the contrary, she understands all too well,” Rand broke in, desperate to keep her from saying anything that would further damage her reputation. “I am completely at fault.”
“You, sir, are no gentleman.” Miss Campbell shot him a poisonous look. “Laurie will see to it that you are never accepted in polite company after this.”
“Lexie, listen to me.” Kitty’s urgent grip tightened on Miss Campbell’s arm.
“Kat—” Rand said in warning tones.
She ignored him. “Rand didn’t do anything that I didn’t want.” She gave Miss Campbell a direct, determined look. “Do you understand what I am telling you?”
For a moment Miss Campbell stood there staring. “No, it cannot be,” she finally said.
“I welcomed Lord Randolph’s attentions,” Kitty said in a firm voice. “You cannot sully his name over this.”
She shook her head in patent disbelief. “But you are betrothed to Laurie.”
Kitty held her gaze. “I would not lie about something such as this.”
The confused look on Miss Campbell’s face twisted into overt disgust. “Why would you do it?” She shrugged Kitty’s hand off her arm in a violent motion. “Was one man not enough for the Great Incomparable? Must you have all of the Season’s most eligible bachelors paying you court?”
Kitty paled, swallowing hard. “I have no excuse.”
Fire blazed in Miss Campbell’s eyes. “I’ll tell everyone. You’ll be ruined.” She turned to go. “We’ll see if Laurie still wants you after this.”
Rand stepped in front of her. “Perhaps you’d like to reconsider.”
“Get out of my way.”
“Think, Miss Campbell,” he urged. “Are you certain Sinclair will cast her aside? If he does not, where will that leave you?”
The girl’s voice trembled with anger. “I will not allow the two of you to cuckold Laurie.” She glared at Kitty. “Everyone knows he is marrying her for love.”
Kitty appeared stricken. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do believe he is.”
“And you would dishonor him,” she said in a scathing tone.
Rand cleared his throat. “Miss Campbell, you mistake this situation.”
She looked pointedly at the cravat in his hand. “Do I?”
“You do. It is not well-known, but Lady Katherine and I enjoyed a brief flirtation before I purchased my commission.” He moved toward Kitty and casually handed her the cravat. She took it, her eyes never wavering from his face. “When I returned after years abroad, I still thought to make her my countess.”
Miss Campbell stared at him. “You intend to marry Kat?”
He dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “As an earl, I will naturally require a hostess.”
Miss Campbell shot a look at Kitty, who stood watching with a slightly dazed look on her face. “You are going to cry off with Laurie to marry the earl?”
Rand answered before Kitty could. “We gave in to our mutual curiosity today and immediately realized what occurred between us years ago was a youthful infatuation that is best left in the past.”
“I don’t take your meaning.” Miss Campbell shifted an uncertain looked between the two of them. “You don’t want Kat? Every gentleman is smitten with her.”
Excellent. He had her wavering now. “Not I. At least not in that way.” His gut churned as he forced out the lie. “We’ve found that our feelings for each other are no longer engaged.”
Miss Campbell tilted her head in thought. “So she is not going to marry you.”
“Lady Katherine and I realize the regard we share is friendship rather than any deeper affection.”
“So you don’t want her,” she repeated slowly, her incredulity plain.
Rand’s stomach curled at the thought of giving this insipid girl false hope, but he would do anything to secure Kitty’s future happiness. “Correct. I must look elsewhere for my countess.”
She took the bait. If the sudden interest that flashed in her eyes was any indication. “And Kat is still going to marry Laurie.”
“Most assuredly,” he answered.
Rand could see Miss Campbell’s mind working and realized he had underestimated her. She was no fool; the tittering miss routine was perhaps the persona she assumed because she thought it would land her a husband. Yet her hidden canniness just might end up securing her an earl. Once she thought on it, Miss Campbell would comprehend that revealing his and Kitty’s indiscretion would force a marriage between them, obliterating her own chance of becoming his countess.
He offered her his arm. “Now, shall we forget this unfortunate incident and rejoin the others?”