Читать книгу Too Hot For A Rake - Pearl Wolf - Страница 13

Friday, the Tenth of April, 1818

“Good morning, ma’am,” Waverley said cheerfully as he took a seat opposite Helena. He behaved as though nothing had happened the evening before in spite of the visible bump on his forehead.

Astonished, Helena took in the slight, dark-skinned man wearing a turban, a bright yellow coat that fell to his knees, pants, and shoes with curled-up toes. He followed his lordship into the dining parlor.

Amused at her reaction, Waverley introduced his valet. “This is Rabu, ma’am. In the firm belief that I am unable to care for myself, Rabu insisted upon accompanying me home from India to accomplish that task. Isn’t that right, Rabu?”

Rabu giggled, his grin reaching from ear to ear. “Yes, mastah.”

“How do you do, Rabu,” said Helena, much amused.

The little man made a sweeping bow. “Allo, meestress.” He giggled again.

Waverley’s lips quirked. “Pay him no mind, ma’am. Rabu giggles all the time. Weddings, funerals, disasters. In spite of the giggle, he’s working hard at learning our tongue. I’ll have the eggs and some ham, Rabu.” At once, the valet bustled about serving his master.

Helena took a sip of her tea. “He is quite an…original, my lord. How is your head this morning?”

“My head is fine, thank you, except for this colorful bump developing on my skull. Speaking of which, how is your abigail? Dear little Amy is also an original. Was it you who taught her that delightful trick with the pitcher? Next time, advise her to empty it of water first before she puts it to such practical use.” He dug into his breakfast with his customary zeal.

“I most certainly did not teach her such a shabby trick. Amy thought it up all by herself.”

“Clever little puss,” he murmured between bites.

Helena was fascinated by the extraordinary amount of food her escort was consuming. “You seem excessively hungry this morning. As if you haven’t eaten for a week.”

“Oh no, ma’am. I eat like this all the time. Since I am an active man, I use food to fuel my body.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and waved to Rabu to remove his plate. “Coffee, Rabu.”

“Yes, sah!” Rabu said with a hint of the military. And giggled.

“We leave in one hour, to take advantage of the light, ma’am. I’ve asked the innkeeper to provide a basket for a midday meal. When we change horses at Taunton, a decent drink may be had, he informs me, but the food is not what he calls ‘good grub.’”

She rose. “You’ll excuse me, then. I must supervise the packing if we are to be ready to leave so soon, sir.”

His eyes twinkled as he saluted her with one finger. “Don’t be late, ma’am.”

His last remark smacked of insolence, Helena thought, but she didn’t answer. She walked up the stairs and down the hall to her chamber, where she found Amy folding her clothes. “We leave in an hour, Amy. Be sure everything is packed and taken down to our carriage. Tell Casper that Lord Waverley’s valet will accompany us. He may sit up beside him.”

“Yes, your la’ship.” Amy’s eyes were swollen from the tears she had shed over the tongue-lashing her ladyship had administered following last evening’s fiasco.

Helena reddened in recollection of the humiliating scene. Amy had hit him with the pitcher all the while scolding him like a fishmonger for daring to “have his way” with her precious ladyship. To Helena’s dismay, Amy had yanked Helena’s bodice up while she continued to rant at the marquis. Waverley had merely held his head in his hands and groaned.

When he was able to stagger to his feet, he’d barked, “Leave off, lass. No need for you to protect your mistress any longer. Thanks to the cold water and the pitcher, the mood has quite left me.” He’d stumbled out and slammed the door behind him.

Helena reached for her hat, but Amy was quicker. “Allow me, milady.” She tucked her mistress’ hair under, leaving a few curls out to frame her face in a most becoming way, a task at which Amy was a master. “You look lovely,” Amy said, as she placed the pelisse on Helena’s shoulders. Without a word, Helena left the room and proceeded down the stairs, to be met by the innkeeper.

“Allow me to settle the bill with you, sir.”

“No need, milady. His grace directed that all charges be sent to him. Was everything satisfactory?”

“Oh yes. Thank you for your hospitality.” While she spoke to the landlord, Amy passed them, carrying her ladyship’s portmanteau. Helena followed her out into the yard and entered her carriage, but before Casper could close the door, she held it open and said, “See to Lord Waverley’s baggage. His valet will sit up with you, Casper. Have you met him?”

Casper grinned. “Bit of an oddball, ain’t he?”

Helena nodded in agreement just as Waverley drew up on his horse. He tipped his hat to her and smiled.

She smiled back at him, but there was no light in her eyes. Good heavens! How am I going to get through the rest of this journey without further mortification?

“Your ladyship—?”

“Say no more, Amy. Spare me, please. Your lectures make my head ache.”

“I’m sorry for what I done, but Lord Waverley’s a rake, taking advantage of an innocent lady like yourself. Men like him—”

“Enough, for heaven’s sake! Not another word out of you, do you hear?”

She reached for her diary, picked up her quill and began to write whatever thoughts popped into her head.

“Milady?” Amy twisted the handkerchief in her hands as she spoke.

Helena glared at her. “Don’t interrupt again, do you hear?”

A light rain began to fall but soon turned into a downpour. Casper pulled to the side of the road and stopped long enough for Lord Waverley to tie his horse to the rear of the carriage and enter.

“Beg pardon,” he said. He removed his coat, already drenched, and dropped it to the floor. “That’s better. I trust my joining you isn’t too much of an imposition? We stop for the night in Exeter, still hours away. My horse doesn’t seem to mind the rain, but I most certainly do.” He tapped the roof with the blunt end of his whip, a signal to Casper to move on.

“No imposition, I assure you. Make yourself comfortable, sir.” Helena removed her handkerchief from her reticule and handed it across to him. “Take this to wipe your face.”

“Thank you, ma’am. My valet will restore it before I return it.” He wiped his face, ignoring Amy’s stern glare in his direction, and closed his eyes to bar further conversation.

Helena returned her diary to her reticule, for the erratic motion of the carriage sloshing through rutted roads made writing impossible. While Waverley rested opposite her, she too rested.

When Casper pulled up to a small hostelry in Taunton, the only sign above the door read “Inn.” The sun had reappeared but the ground remained sodden. Waverley stepped down first. When he offered his hand, Helena took it, expecting to have to wade through puddles to the door of the inn, but the marquis swept her into his arms and carried her inside.

“Th…thank you, sir,” she managed. “How kind.”

He set her down in the taproom and bowed. “Pleasure, ma’am.”

While Rabu spread the picnic fare supplied by the innkeeper of Arnos Manor in Bristol on one of two tables, Amy fetched a draught for the marquis, and lemonade for her mistress. Casper joined Rabu and Amy at the other table in the corner of the room, though the room was so small every word Helena and Waverley said to one another could be heard.

“Try to get some sleep when you return to the carriage, ma’am. Exeter is more than five hours away.”

“You may ride with me and continue to rest if you wish, sir,” she said shyly.

“Thank you, but my horse might object. He needs his exercise.”

Helena’s infectious laughter caused Casper to grin, Rabu to giggle and Amy to frown.

Once under way, Helena leaned back and closed her eyes, but try as she might, she could not sleep, for Lord Waverley troubled her thoughts. He was such a contradiction. Tender at times, brusque just as often. He was seductive at times, behaving with propriety just as often. Who was the real man inside these contradictions?

By the time they reached the Turks Head Inn in Exeter, a fifteenth-century hostelry, Helena was too weary to eat dinner in the private dining room. She ordered a light supper sent to her chamber and fell asleep soon after. At dawn, the sound of voices coming from the courtyard woke her. Startled by the rude noise, she pushed the covers away, went to the window and peered over the sill. The light lit the face of the man on the ground. The marquis! With caution, she opened the window a crack and peered out in time to hear Waverley speak.

“I need my horse, if you please,” he said to the landlord.

“It’s too early, your lordship. The stable lads are asleep.”

“I ride this early every morning for exercise, sir. I’ll make it worth their while. Yours as well.” The marquis reached into his trousers, pulled out some notes and pressed them into the landlord’s hand. “Ten minutes.”

Curious, Helena drew her head in, snatched her robe and went to the door. She tiptoed to the banister just as Waverley entered and started up the stairs. Helena tried to hurry back to her chamber, but she tripped on the hem of her robe and sprawled facedown.

“Ooof!” She raised her head only to greet a pair of large, shiny Hessian boots. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked the boots.

“I might ask the same of you, ma’am. Are you spying on me?”

Her eyes traveled slowly up past the boots to the tight buckskin trousers clinging to his thighs before she was rudely snatched to her feet. He steadied her as she fell against him. A tremor coursed through her body. It took all her strength to keep her knees from buckling.

“I’m waiting for your answer.”

She cocked her head to one side and stuck out her chin. “I asked you first.”

Waverley’s eyes turned to flint even as the scent of verbena nagged at him. “Well? What have you to say for yourself, ma’am?”

She stepped back and clutched her gown closer. Why did he wreak such havoc on her senses?

Without warning, he thrust aside her hands. “What are you hiding? Let’s have a look.” His fingers played a silent tune on her breastbone. They slipped inside the edge of her gown. Moved lower.

Her breath caught when the heat of his body penetrated hers. She closed her eyes, pursed her lips in anticipation of his kiss and leaned toward him, her hands splayed against the wall behind her to steady herself.

The back of his hand brushed across her breast. Her lips parted as she drew closer until she felt every hard inch of him.

“Enough for the moment, milady.” He let her go and sauntered down the hall toward his chamber.

She shivered as she watched him disappear into his chamber.

Does he think me a strumpet who is desperate for him? Someone he can use whenever he pleases? Someday, I’ll teach him a lesson he’ll never forget, if it’s the last thing I do!

What was wrong with her? Had she no allure? Was she not desirable? She had been spurned first by Darlington and now by Waverley, the most exasperating man she’d ever had the misfortune to encounter. He told her she was appealing, didn’t he? Was he just being polite? There must be something wrong with her, else why would men spurn her?

She slept restlessly, but three hours later she woke at a knock on her door.

“I need to pack your things, milady. It’s after nine. We’re almost ready to leave. Carriage is waitin’ on us,” Amy said timidly as she crossed the room and opened the curtains to let in the light. She proceeded to set out Helena’s clothing.

“Very well.” Helena sighed and rose from the bed. After Amy had helped her dress, Helena opened her diary and began to write quickly, before she lost her thoughts. The words poured out of her soul like swift arrows piercing her heart. She wrote what she felt. The doubt. The wanting. The anguish. The rejection.

“The landlord’s prepared your breakfast in the dining parlor, milady.”

Helena nodded. She let Amy help her with her pelisse, but she would not relinquish the bag that held her journal, in order to make sure prying eyes could not read it.

She was alone in the private parlor when Casper knocked and entered. “What is it, Casper?”

“Lord Waverley’s not back from his morning ride, milady. He left word with the landlord that we’re to wait for him to return before we leave for Bodmin.”

“Wait for his lordship? Indeed we will not. It isn’t necessary. We’re not far from Bodmin. We’ll go on as planned and the marquis may meet us there. Tell his valet to join us.”

“I asked him already, milady. Rabu says he won’t budge without his master.”

“He will when you tell him it is his master’s wish. We can’t leave him behind, you know. Tell him to be ready to leave in fifteen minutes.”

“Safe journey, milady. Pleased to be at your service,” said the landlord as he helped her into the carriage, his mind already on the bill he planned to send to her father. Casper cracked his whip and the chaise was under way.

Helena smiled to herself at the landlord’s final words. She hadn’t bothered to question his bill, which made the man effusive. She sighed, her thoughts on the family she had left behind. Would she be able to hold her head up at Georgiana’s debut ball so as not to embarrass her family? She allowed herself a small smile at a thought that crossed her mind. She would have to hold her head up high at Georgie’s debut ball whatever the cost. The Duke of Heatham’s children were not allowed to fail.

Their carriage came to a screeching halt. Helena’s quill flew out of her hand, for she had been writing in her journal. She and Amy were tossed every which way, the contents of their small bags spilling out in a jumble.

Amy recovered first. “Ouch! You all right, milady?” She rolled down the window and stuck her head out. “Casper, you lout. Why’d you stop so sudden like? My lady’s all shook up.”

Casper climbed down from his perch, his rifle in hand, and opened their door. “Hush, lass,” he whispered. “Don’t be making a fuss. Stay inside and protect milady. There’s a robbery just ahead, mayhap. Two highwaymen are tryin’ to murder a proper gentleman, by the look of him. Be quiet while Rabu and I see what the lay of the land is. We have to stop them or we’ll be next.” He tied the horses to a tree and crept forward, rifle at the ready. Rabu followed him resolutely, his fists clenched, poised for battle.

“Oooh, milady! We’re done for!” Amy moaned.

“Stop that whimpering, you silly chit. Casper and Rabu will protect us. It’s their duty. Quick! We must prepare ourselves. What can we use if they fail? No, no. Don’t look so alarmed and don’t you dare start wailing. Let’s search the carriage. There must be something here we can…”

A loud shot reached their ears. Amy jumped closer to her mistress. “They…they’ve murdered Casper.”

“Stop it this instant,” said Helena, exasperated, yet frightened in spite of her admonition. She pushed her abigail to the floor. “Stay right there. Don’t move unless you hear me scream. Then get out and run as fast as you can and find help.”

Helena cracked the door open just enough to slide down to the ground. She crept quietly toward the direction of the rifle shot. Her eyes flew open at the sight of Casper struggling with one of the masked men while the other held his bleeding leg and groaned. Rabu stood frozen at the side of the road, all resolve to fight now lost. Casper’s rifle lay on the ground near the figure of a third man lying face down, not moving at all.

She tore her eyes away from him and concentrated on the immediate danger. Rabu was no help and Casper appeared to be losing the struggle. The man with the bleeding leg was trying to inch his way toward the fallen rifle. She found a sturdy branch lying nearby, gripped it with both hands and rushed into the fray.

“Stop, thief! We’ll have no more of this nonsense!” The startled thug let go of Casper and turned to see where the voice was coming from, giving Casper time to thrust him off.

“Smith! Watch yer back!” screamed his accomplice. He reached for the rifle just as Helena ran to him and kicked it out of reach. She dropped the branch, picked up the rifle and aimed it at the man called Smith, never taking her eyes off his wounded partner.

“Casper, can you find something to bind these two brutes with? Rabu and I will stand watch until you return.” She turned to Smith and added, “I also have you in my sight. I’m an excellent shot, my man.”

Rabu came to his senses and joined her, a look of fearlessness on his face despite his shaking knees.

“Right and tight, milady.” Casper stood up and brushed himself off. “Can you two hold them until I return, milady?”

“Of course.”

“Yes, sah!” said Rabu, recovered from fright.

The wounded man snorted. “Women don’ know how to shoot and that little man is worthless.”

“Shut up, Isley. Don’t set ’em off. I don’t fancy me death.”

Helena let out a harsh laugh. “Try me, Isley. Move one muscle and I’ll shoot the other leg. Lie down, Smith.”

“All right, miss.” The man lay flat on his back and crossed his arms over his chest as if already dead.

“You too, Isley. On your back next to your friend. No. Not that close. Just close enough so we can watch you both. That’s right. Now fold your arms over your chest and don’t move.”

“Can ye let us go just this once, your la’ship? We never done this ’afore, but there’s no honest work to be had and…and we have families to feed,” Smith whined.

Helena didn’t take her eyes off either highwayman. “You should have thought of that before you murdered that poor gentleman lying over there.”

“He ain’t dead, miss. Just stunned-like. Go see fer yerself.”

“Not on your life, you glib-tongued thief. I’ll see to him once you’re both safely bound. If he’s dead, heaven help you. You’ll both hang for it.”

Casper returned with Amy in tow. “Got the rope, milady. We’re gonna tie ’em up. Give us a hand, Rabu.”

“All right, but be quick about it,” Helena said. “Tie them each to a separate tree. And be sure to tie them tight, so they can’t run away. We’ll ride ahead to Bodmin. We’re staying at the Pig and Whistle, an inn I know well. The landlord will summon the constable to fetch these two. If that poor man lying over there is still alive, we’ll have to take him with us. The innkeeper will send for a doctor.”

Helena watched Casper and Rabu roll Isley over and tie his hands behind his back while Amy secured his feet. “Ow,” cried Isley. “Watch me wounded leg.”

“And whose fault is that, lad? You only got what you deserved. Be thankful you’re still alive,” lectured Amy as she helped Casper and Rabu. They dragged him to a tree, where they sat him up and bound him securely.

Smith made as if to move. “Ladies don’t know how to shoot,” he snarled.

Helena lifted the rifle. “Care to test my skill? As you wish, but be prepared. I may be a bit rusty. I might miss your leg and blow your head off instead. Go ahead, you cur. Make one move and we’ll see if I can shoot.” She raised the rifle higher and glued one eye to its sight once more.

“Don’t bother to shoot him, milady. We’re ready for him,” said Casper cheerfully as he and Rabu rolled Smith over. “Tie his legs tight, Amy. Just like we did t’other one.”

When Smith was securely tied to a tree, Helena handed Casper the rifle and raced to the poor gentleman lying on the side of the road. Face down, the victim was covered with clumps of leaves. She brushed aside some of the debris.

“Merciful heavens!” she cried. “It’s Lord Waverley!”

The earth began to spin and she fainted.