Page 13 of The Viscount's Seduction
“Lord and Lady Cheswick are the generous sort with everyone. Consequently, Lady Jane has enough to support three retainers, of which I am one.”
She was letting him know that Lady Jane was poor, and Lady Sirena was poorer, the clever girl. “You keep saying that she is your employer. And you’ve not told me your family name. Are you not related to her in some way? That is the usual thing in these cases.”
“I am not. The Cheswicks are friends of the family that owns the estate next to my family home.”
“And where is that?”
“In Ireland.” She smiled sweetly.
He decided on a different tack. “So you became acquainted during a house party?”
“Nay.”
She turned the corner onto a residential street, lined with smallish dwellings, their elegance fading, and stopped in front of a door needing a fresh coat of paint. “These are our rooms.” She took the basket and heaved in a deep breath, fixing him with a gray glare.
He should let her go. Father would surely relent and share her story. Or he could ask around about her...but Father had been correct, it would only draw attention, unwanted if he were to pursue her.
And he wanted to pursue her. “I’m not a gossip,” he said. “My sister has her heart set on yours and Lady Jane’s friendship, and—”
“As you wish.” She shifted the basket. “If harm comes to my lady, I’ll know who to blame. And so here it is. Lady Jane all but fished me out of the woods where I was preparing to hide and took me back to the neighbor’s house. She shamed them quite unmercifully and insisted they give me refuge until she could find a way to help me.”
“You were hiding?” His mind had snagged on that point. The wars were long over. Even Ireland was more or less settled, wasn’t it? “From whom? Irish rebels? British soldiers?”
She laughed ruefully. “Well, he was once a British soldier, I know, but he was, like me, another bad mix of the Irish and English. My cousin, the new earl, arrived to inspect his property. Angry, he was, that the house was in disrepair, but he was keen on the horses.” She looked hard at him, her eyes taking a blue cast, the irises lined with an edging of gray. “Every bit as fine as your mount here were our horses once upon a time.” She pressed her lips together and took in an angry breath. “He said he did love a fine mount.”
His heart thudded to a stop and then picked up and raced. Fine cattle and a house in disrepair. Perhaps there was more than one such estate in Ireland. Could it be?
And the rest... If that cousin had harmed her in that way...
She nodded. “In truth, I was not living any richer there than I am now, except that I was home and I could ride through those woods and shoot game when we were hungry. I could have stayed, but…the cost was too dear. You should know that my family name was ruined long ago.” Her chin jutted forward. “Honor I may not have, but I have my pride.” She gave him another forced laugh. “And my daily bread. Good day, my lord.”
Her foot hit the first step.
“Wait.”
She looked back at him, the curve of her cheek burnished pink in the morning chill, a chill that seeped into him and raced through his veins.
Brave. Saucy. Proud. This woman stirred him. And terrified him.
“What?” she asked.
“We’ve brought some very fine cattle to town. Perhaps you and I and my sister Perry could go riding one day.”
She turned fully around on the step, her eyes level with his, her face serious. “Plain-spoken, I will be, sir. Lady Jane has a wild idea of me marrying this Season, yet she told me that you in particular are out of my respectable reach. You will be marrying a girl of good family and great wealth, which I am not. And thus I must decline your kind invitation. I wish you all felicitations on your marriage when—”
Bellowing erupted around the corner, and the pounding of hooves. His mount came dragging the boy.
“Blast you,” the boy screamed, adding a stream of epithets no lady should hear.
“There, boy. Easy, boy.” Bakeley rushed over and grabbed for the reins as the horse shook the boy loose.
And suddenly stilled. Peace swept through the startled beast. Bakeley could almost hear the quiet rush.
A small hand had settled on the horse’s dappled gray head, the lady’s gaze locked on the beast’s dark eyes, a soft, soothing croon sounding deep in her throat. Before he could speak, her hand dropped and she was up the steps and in the door, the basket clutched under her arm.
The gelding looked after her with longing in his eyes.
Bakeley blinked and caught his breath.
