My Seductive Innocent (5 page)

Another tight smile stretched his lips but this one reached his eyes. “I’d like to purchase a horse from the man, so you can lower your hackles.”

“Oh,” she said, a tad embarrassed, as the tension drained from her shoulders. “I can give you directions, but he trains horses for men who are disabled and I don’t see anything incapacitated about you.” As she spoke, she found herself following the curve of his massive shoulders down his broad chest toward his tapering waist, and finally to his thighs. He wore tan breeches that fit snugly around his legs so that his muscles strained against the material. Suddenly hot, she swallowed hard. She’d never seen a more perfect example of masculine beauty or power. It made her stomach flutter and her heart speed.

Good God above, she hoped she wasn’t a trollop at heart. Her poor dead mother would probably flip in her grave to think the child she’d died giving birth to had turned out not to be worth it.

“Sophia?”

Her name rolled off his tongue in three distinct, silky syllables. It made her heart stop and then jolt to a start again when she realized she was staring at him. She whipped her gaze up and found his brilliant dark eyes fixed on her.
Embarrassed
didn’t quite cover how she felt.
Mortified
was closer. The wish to have never gotten off her cot this morning and started this day was an even more apt indication of her current state.

“I can give you directions if you wish,” she choked out, though her tongue felt thick in her throat.

“That would be very generous of you, and if it sets your mind at ease, the horse is not for me but for my cousin who has a bad leg. I assure you I’m not trying to trick you.”

She knew her mouth had parted in surprise because when she sucked in a breath, cold air hit her teeth. She promptly snapped her jaw shut. Tensing, she expected Nathan to make some lurid remark about how she had been ogling him, but instead he offered her a gentle smile, as if being gawked at was something he was used to, which he probably was. Still, gratitude filled her chest. Twice today, this man had shown her kindness and she wanted to return it in kind.

“I can lead you there personally,” she said, though there would be the devil to pay with Frank when she returned. “He lives down a road that’s hard to find if you don’t know just where to look. Let me just get my cape.” And her dagger, in case Moses decided to seek retribution for what Nathan had done to him.

Nathan frowned. “You want to show me personally?”

She felt her own brow pull into a frown. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Are you bringing a chaperone?”

She struggled not to laugh. Ladies in her social class didn’t have chaperones, but he probably didn’t know a single commoner besides her. “I don’t have a chaperone.”

“Won’t your father object?”

She glanced over her shoulder and Frank was once again in his usual place behind the bar with a drink at his own lips rather than pouring for the customers. She shook her head and lied through her teeth. “He won’t even know I’m gone.” She’d ask Mary Ellen to cover her tables for the half hour she’d likely be away. The customers wouldn’t suffer at all, though Frank would still complain because that’s what Frank did best.

He cocked his head as he surveyed her. “Are you trying to trap me?”

She scrunched up her face, her brow wrinkling. “Trap you?”

“Into marriage?”

This time she did burst out laughing. Then his insult hit her and she clamped her jaw shut and scowled at him before flaying him. “You are a pompous peacock.”

“I’m no peacock,” he said in a deadpan voice. “Pompous? Perhaps. Careful? Always.”

She huffed out a breath at the ridiculousness of this conversation. “You know as well as I do that you could ravish me and everyone would simply look away. No one would expect you to marry me, especially not anyone from your world.”

He shrugged. “True, but I wanted to be certain you understood a ravishment claim will not bring me to heel. I find, no matter the class, all women think alike.”

She clenched her jaw and counted to ten before she was calm enough to speak. “You don’t trust women very much, do you?”

“I don’t trust women at all,” he said. The warmth that had been in his eyes previously was totally gone, and two hard balls of darkness stared back at her.

“You can rest easy,” she snapped. “I’ve no designs to marry you whatsoever. I don’t care if you’re the richest man in England.” When a telling smile quivered at his lips, she caught her breath. “
Are
you the richest man in England?”

“I do believe I’m a close second. Does that have your scheming wheels turning?”

“My what?”

He tapped her on the head. “Your mind. Are you now reevaluating your desire to trap me into marriage?”

“Certainly,” she said cheekily. “What woman wouldn’t dream of marrying a man who seems to detest women?”

“I assure you I don’t.”

She ignored him, her anger bubbling. “I daresay I spend many nights sitting on my bedroll―”

“Your what?” he interrupted.

“My bedroll.”

He looked at her questioningly.

“The cot that I sleep on,” she tried.

“You mean your bed?”

“Yes, but it’s not―” She stopped herself from saying anymore. It would be foreign and unimaginable to a man such as the Duke of Scarsdale to comprehend that she did not have a bed. He would instantly pity her. She was sure of it, and she did not want his pity. “Never mind.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Either you can trust me or go on your merry way. Suit yourself. But the house is more than difficult to locate.” She eyed him just as she did Harry when he was doing something naughty.

“I do believe I’ve just been put in my place.”

“I believe you have,” she agreed, the tension draining from her. “So?”

“I am at your command,” he said in a smooth, gravelly voice. She had a feeling he’d had many women at his command before.

Embarrassed by her own thought, she didn’t meet his gaze as she said, “Go wait outside for me. I’ll just grab my cape and make sure my tables are tended.” She also wanted to tell Harry she was going so he wouldn’t be worried.

She found her brother in the kitchen, standing on a stool washing dishes. “Harry,” she whispered.

He turned around and grinned at her, making her heart expand. She reached out and wiped some soapsuds off his nose. “I’ll be back shortly. I have to show a customer to Mr. Bantry’s.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll b-be here.”

She tweaked his chin. “Don’t fret. I’ll be back soon.”

He hugged her and gave her a hard squeeze the way he always did, as if he was afraid she would abandon him as his mother had. She squeezed back with vigor to reassure him otherwise and kissed his head. “We’ll make a pie when I come back.”

He grinned at that, and she left the kitchen, heading to her bedroom to grab her dagger. She tucked it in her boot and went back down to the tavern. After locating Mary Ellen and asking her to cover her tables, Sophia made her way outside to meet Nathan.

He was sitting atop a magnificent, gleaming, gold curricle with a pair of perfectly matched black steeds. She sucked in a breath, never having seen such a grand sight. Nathan scrambled to the ground and frowned at her.

“You better go back inside and get your pelisse. The temperature is dropping rapidly.”

Sophia gathered her threadbare cape tighter and fixed a smile on her face. “I’m warm-blooded.”

He squinted at her. “If you don’t have a pelisse, retrieve a heavier cape.”

She notched her chin up. “This cape will do.”

“Is that all you own?” Incredulity tinged his voice.

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” she replied, refusing to confirm what he likely now understood. To sanction his suspicion would be to welcome his pity. “The drive is short and the sun is only now setting.”

Without a word, Nathan stripped off his topcoat and laid it gently over her shoulders. “I admire your astonishing lack of complaint, as well as your backbone, but I insist you wear my coat so you won’t take a chill.”

His husky voice made her stomach tighten, and her fingers went immediately to the soft luxurious fabric. She could not help but stroke it in awe.

His gaze strayed to her caressing fingers, so she forced her hand down to her side. Something burned in his eyes that she couldn’t place, but he spoke, stealing whatever chance she had to place the look.

“I insist you take some money for showing me the way to the trainer’s. You could, if you wished, buy a pelisse with the funds since you seem to have misplaced yours.”

His kindness and tactfulness in not naming the obvious touched her, but she didn’t want his pity or his charity. She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. This is my way of repaying you for helping me with Moses.”

He regarded her with a quizzical look. “I’ve never met a lady that refused a gift.”

She grinned. “Now you have. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes,” he said, amusement lacing his tone. “I saw what a sterling job you were doing.”

She scowled at him. “I would have eventually gotten into a good position to wound him where it counts.”

He raised his eyebrows, and she could see a smile tugging at his lips. “And where does it count?”

Automatically, her gaze strayed to the juncture between his thighs, and heat singed her cheeks.
Heavens!
Whyever had she glanced there? Reluctant to look back up but left with no other choice, she met his laughing eyes and cleared her throat. “Shall we go?”

“By all means,” he drawled and held his gloved hand out to her. She placed her hand in his large one. Even with the soft leather between them, his heat leeched through the gloves and made her fingers curl tightly around his as her breath caught. She forced herself to exhale, and a puff of white came from her mouth.

His fingers suddenly curled more tightly around hers in return. “You’re trembling,” he murmured. “Are you still cold even with my overcoat?”

She nodded. There was not a chance she was going to admit the cold had nothing to do with why she was trembling. The feelings he was stirring in her were not anything she’d ever experienced before. Confusion blanketed her mind as she settled beside him on the seat of the curricle, situated his coat around her legs, and tucked it under her chin. She started to rub the material again. It was impossible not to. It was the softest thing she’d ever felt in her life, not scratchy at all like the material of her cape.

He turned to her as he took up the reins. “Where to?” he asked, his thigh pressing against hers as his body shifted. She had to clench her teeth to keep from gasping at the tingling sensation shooting from her leg to her head.

The distinct sound of a hiss coming from Nathan tickled her ear. Had she affected him, as well?

She surreptitiously glanced at him from under her lashes, but his face was impassive. If she had affected him, he certainly wasn’t showing it. How utterly ridiculous she was being to even think of such things. She was nothing to look at. Her hair had been her best feature, and now it was gone. Her face was too thin from a lack of proper meals, her skin chaffed from hours out in the cold fetching wood for the fire, and she did not posses any curves to make a man look twice. She did have a nice smile, she thought. And her eyes were passably pretty. Her teeth were straight and white, too, thank God. Burying the unfamiliar feelings he had stirred within her, she sat up taller and pointed ahead. “Go straight, and I’ll tell you in plenty of time where to turn.”

Nathan nodded, clicked his tongue, and set the horses into motion. Within minutes, they were well on their way. The sun was almost below the horizon in the bright orange sky, and the temperature seemed to be dropping rather quickly right along with it, just as Nathan had predicted. She drew his coat up higher over her mouth and peered out ahead, watching for the narrow road that led to Mr. Bantry’s house. The road was hard to spot because it was hidden between two massive oak trees.

She would have made polite conversation but she was wary to come out of her cocoon, and it wasn’t exactly as if Nathan was attempting to talk to her. He hadn’t even glanced her way since they’d started out. She pursed her lips to keep her teeth from chattering, but it was a futile attempt. They clacked together anyway and sounded as loud as a drum in the mostly silent night.

T
he unmistakable sound of Sophia’s teeth chattering from the cold filled the space between them and made Nathan tense. The best way to warm her up would be to get her to slide closer and put his arm around her, but that was a distinctly bad idea. The chit was making him want to do things he never did, and he didn’t understand it.

He prided himself on never allowing his emotions to rule him, but he’d reacted without thinking the minute he’d seen her struggling to get out of that man’s groping embrace. Anger had fueled his actions, not logic. He could dismiss that incident because any honorable man would have been angry at her predicament, but it was harder to dismiss how she had amused him with her banter and impressed him when she’d stood up to him. It was even harder to ignore the strong sense of pity coursing through him. And pity was a dangerous emotion that could lead to caring.