Princess Charming (15 page)

“I don’t believe any of those excuses will suffice,” she pronounced, returning to the less intimate subject. “We look much too different in class and will call undue attention to ourselves.”

“If you insist, I’ll buy some coarse clothing at the first village we come to, but I refuse to give up my prime blood to ride a nag.”

She smiled. “No, I suppose that sacrifice would be too great for your lordship. Until you find something more suitable to wear, however, we should not be seen together. In fact,” Maura said after more consideration, “there is no reason for you to change your appearance at all. You won’t be with me for more than a few days. You can help me reach Oxford and then return home.”

“Oh, no,” Beaufort responded genially. “You are not getting rid of me so easily.” He cast her a sideways glance. “I have to admire your gumption, but if you wanted a career as a horse thief, you should have mentioned it sooner. I’m acquainted with all manner of people who might have assisted you, including a few felons. Have you ever stolen anything before?”

“Nothing of consequence.”

“What does that mean?”

“I once stole the headmistress’s bedroom slippers on a dare. Katharine challenged me, and I couldn’t leave my honor undefended.”

“So you do have practice as a thief,” he commented, amused. “And here I thought you were a relative innocent compared to my madcap sister.”

“I was never as madcap as your sister,” Maura assured him. “You should have seen the pranks Katharine pulled at school.”

“Pray, don’t tell me,” he said dryly. “I became her guardian the instant I reached my majority, since our Uncle Cornelius no longer wanted the responsibility, so I was supposed to be looking out for her.”

“I must say, you did not do a very good job in supervising her,” Maura said, still smiling. “Skye was almost as bad as Kate, but from what I hear, they were merely following in your footsteps. They both adore you and think that you can do no wrong, but you set them an atrocious example as the most scandalous member of the Wilde clan.”

“I could say you deserve some of the blame as well, my lovely hellion. It sounds as if you were quite a threesome.”

“We were,” she admitted.

He shook his head in consternation, then laughed. “You are going to cause me a lot of trouble, aren’t you?”

“I told you not to come with me,” Maura pointed out.

Beaufort shrugged. “I am trying to view this journey as an adventure.”

Maura couldn’t stifle her own laugh at his similarity to Kate. It was just like a Wilde to consider a desperate escape as an adventure.

Even so, her own spirits suddenly felt lighter. Now that she could take a breath, the fear that had burdened her for the past fortnight had eased somewhat, in large part, she acknowledged with reluctance, because Beaufort was with her.

They rode on for several more hours. By then, Maura was growing weary and chilled from the damp air seeping into her bones. When another half hour had
passed, she began looking for landmarks from the map Gandy had drawn for her. When she judged that they’d reached the correct turnoff, she guided Frip onto a country lane.

“Gandy has a friend who owns a small farm in this area,” she explained to Beaufort. “Unfortunately, his cottage recently burned down, so he temporarily moved his family and livestock to his brother’s farm nearby. But the barn is still standing.”

A few minutes after she turned onto another lane, they came upon the blackened ruins of a stone cottage. Across the yard was a small barn with a thatched roof.

“This should do until tomorrow evening when it grows dark enough for us to set out again. See, there is a fenced meadow with a stream for the horses to eat and drink. And Emperor’s disguise will protect him in this remote area. He will be safe enough there while we sleep in the barn.”

Beaufort nodded, but eyed the building without enthusiasm. “How delightful.”

Ignoring his ironic tone, Maura dismounted stiffly, aching after so many hours of riding astride, and headed to the barn.

She lit the lantern hanging just inside the door, which provided just enough light to see by as they led the horses inside. The interior was cluttered with tack and farm implements, so there was not much room to maneuver as they removed the saddles and unloaded the peddler’s baskets.

When they led the horses back out to the pastures, Emperor immediately galloped away. Just as quickly, he returned to Maura, snorting and prancing until she
reassured him that she wasn’t abandoning him ever again. Whether or not he understood her words, he calmed enough to lower himself to the ground and roll, clearly delighting in his newfound freedom.

Swallowing the ache of relief in her throat, she returned to the barn with the marquis, who eyed the overhead loft with even less enthusiasm.

“Buck up, my lord,” Maura said brightly. “I have spent many a night in foaling barns waiting for mares to give birth, and I can assure you, straw makes a comfortable mattress. And we have a feast for supper, if you can call dining on bread and cheese a feast. Why don’t you make yourself useful and draw some water from the well? That is, if you even know how to perform such a plebeian task.”

He chuckled at her gibe before going outside to do as she bid.

When he returned shortly with a bucket of water, they sat on two barrels and ate in relative silence. The quiet of the barn lulled her senses, and when they were finished, Maura suddenly realized that she was exhausted. She also became aware of another problem: The lack of privacy.

She had intended to remove her tight bindings, but now she decided against it. After a quick trip outside to the bushes, she discovered that Beaufort had taken the lantern up to the loft. Maura followed him up the steep wooden stairs and found him in the rear corner, using a pitchfork to make up a bed with fresh straw.

When he had spread out her cloak over the straw and staged a blanket to use as a cover, he gestured at his improvised pallet. “After you, my sweet.”

It was then that Maura realized he intended for them to share the bed.

She raised both her eyebrows at him. “Evidently I gave you the wrong impression. It is bad enough that I am traveling alone with you. I am not sleeping with you, too. I do have some notion of propriety.”

“You astonish me, vixen,” he said, beginning to untie his cravat. “You steal a prize racehorse, but balk at sharing a pile of straw, even though we are both fully clothed. Besides, it is damned chilly in here, so you will have to keep me warm. It is the very least you can do after putting me to so much trouble.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I did not force you to come, remember?”

“No, but now that I am here, we can curl up together and share our body warmth.” Unwinding his cravat, he tucked it inside his hat. “If it will make you feel safer, you can think of me as your elder brother.”

Utterly impossible, Maura thought, shaking her head in exasperation. She did feel safe with Beaufort, up to a point; he wouldn’t let any harm come to her, she was certain. At the same time he was so very dangerous to her. He made her feel too much, assaulting her body with erotic sensations and filling her heart with inexplicable yearnings.

And yet, as she suspected, he wouldn’t allow her a choice. His tone turned a bit curt when he reprimanded her. “Quit being so missish, love. You have nothing to fear from me. I am too tired to attempt a seduction just now.”

Maura hesitated a long moment before reaching up to remove her floppy felt hat.

He waited until she lay down on the cloak before he
snuffed the lantern flame. Then joining her, he spent another minute tugging off his boots. Finally, he drew the blanket up over them both and curled her into the curve of his body, her back to his front, his arm draped lightly over her waist.

Maura lay there rigidly in the darkness, wondering if she could trust him.

It was only a short while before his soft even breathing told her that Beaufort was asleep. She remained fully awake, however, watching as the faint light of dawn filtered through the shuttered loft window, much too aware of the hard, masculine body pressed against hers.

Ash awoke with his lust raging. From the sunlight streaming into the loft, he judged it to be midmorning.

He was painfully aware of Maura asleep in his arms, but he lay there savoring her warmth. This was certainly a first for him, spending a chaste night in bed with a beautiful woman, fully clothed. He could feel Maura’s lithe body beneath her many layers of peddler’s garb. Sometime during the past hour, she had sunk into a fitful doze, yet even in sleep, she had turned his loins hard and aching.

It felt strangely right to hold her like this, though.

Resting his mouth on her pale gold hair, Ash breathed in her scent and marveled at how swiftly his attraction for her had escalated. Maura Collyer was a delectable mix of contrariness, a valiant warrior on one hand, bursting with courage and determination, and a soft, delicate female on the other. He felt a renewed stab of admiration for her daring rescue of her
stallion. In her own way, she was every bit as much a rebel as any of the Wildes.

Yet nothing was going as he’d planned. Intent on exploring his sister’s legendary lovers theory, he’d considered courting Maura to see where it led, and of course, to help her in her fight with Deering.

Instead, he’d wound up aiding and abetting her theft, sleeping on an uncomfortable bed of straw in a cold barn loft, and facing the very real prospect of a frantic dash to Scotland as a fugitive.

This was not what he’d envisioned when he’d vowed to take his fate into his own hands, Ash mused wryly. Rather than shaping his destiny, he was fast losing control of it.

He’d gotten himself into an even bigger fix when it came to Maura herself. He had her in his arms now, just where he wanted her, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He was her protector now, so he couldn’t make love to her.

There was, however, no longer any doubt that he would pursue her, Ash thought as he quietly eased back from her delectable body. Something about her called to him, something that aroused the powerful, primal urge to claim her for his own.

Whether or not she was his ideal mate was less certain. He could easily see them becoming lovers. But could he imagine waking up to her every morning? Sharing a marital bed, a home, children? A future together?

And before he could address that intriguing question, he had to resolve her dilemma with Deering. He wouldn’t let Maura become an outlaw, even if for the moment he had to go along with her mad scheme.
Right now, she trusted him to devise a better solution to her dilemma. Actually, a plan had begun to take shape in his mind, but he needed time to execute the details.

Meanwhile, he could make use of their forced intimacy to further his courtship, Ash decided. An opportunity he would never have had if they were safely in London.

Maura stirred restlessly just then and rolled onto her back toward him, as if seeking his warmth. His head pillowed on his arm, Ash watched her slumbering face in the morning light, admiring the fine bone structure, the ivory complexion, the sweet, ripe lips.… Her sleep was agitated, though, her expression far from relaxed.

He knew the instant she fully woke. She gave a start, as if suddenly remembering where she was, and locked gazes with him. He was so close, he could count the gold flecks in the hazel depths of her eyes.

Looking away, she shifted her position on their cloak bed and promptly winced.

“What is wrong, love?” he murmured.

“Nothing. I am just uncomfortable sleeping this way.”

“A few hours ago you were lauding the benefits of a straw bed.”

“It is not the straw. It is the pins in my hair and the tight—” She broke off without finishing.

The tight binding around her breasts
, he suspected she’d meant to say. When he glanced down at her bosom buried beneath the blanket and her peddler’s coat, a flush warmed the fair skin of her cheeks.

“I should have removed my hairpins before trying to sleep,” she muttered to distract him.

When she sat up and reached for the pins, he did the same. “Allow me to help,” he offered.

Maura remained still as he probed her hair with his fingers. Finding the pins one by one, he handed them to her so that she could put them in her coat pocket. When he was done, he smoothed out her hair, relishing the feel of the luxuriant tresses.

“Now,” he said, curling his fingers over the collar of her coat. “Why don’t we see to your bindings?”

Maura’s breath caught
at the huskiness in his voice, but she allowed him to draw off her coat. When he raised the hem of her shirt, however, she stopped him by grasping both his wrists. “I can manage on my own,” she insisted.

“No doubt, but there is no need for shyness. I have already seen your breasts, remember? In fact, I have tasted them.”

Flushing at the brazen reminder, Maura frowned at him. “You are utterly scandalous.”

He smiled into her eyes. “I won’t deny it. We Wildes are a scandalous lot.”

His bewitching charm made her shiver with awareness, and once again she couldn’t resist him. When she released her grip on his wrists, Beaufort unwound the strip of linen around her breasts and made a soft, sympathetic sound in his throat. The binding had chafed her skin and left red marks in a dozen places.