Читать книгу The Duke’s Seduction of Lady M - Raven McAllan - Страница 9

Prologue

To his heartfelt relief, the village hadn’t changed. Behind the neat row of cottages the fields were a sea of green. Cows grazed in one meadow, and green shoots of corn showed their heads in the next. The trees that fringed the fields were in bud, and along the verges wildflowers nestled amongst the sturdy tufts of grass. It was, Brody realised, the epitome of middle England. Mid-afternoon, it had a somnolent feel to it, as if it was waiting for something to wake it.

Or someone?

Him? He snorted and his horse shook its head so the bridle jangled, loud in the silence. Not likely, no one expected him.

Brody settled deep into his saddle and realised how much he’d missed it. All of it. The views, the tranquillity, the safeness.

Especially the safeness.

My land, my world.

People glanced at him with little curiosity as he rode along the tidy street, past the pond with its five resident ducks, one loud and bossy drake and several ducklings, and around the long-disused stocks, but no one spoke or waved. The maypole stood forlorn in the middle of the green, a ring of scuffed grass around it, a sign it was at times used well. But now? It was simply a pole, denuded of ribbons.

A heron took off with a squawk, and its long wings stirred the air. An old, white haired and whiskered man, unlit pipe in his mouth, sitting on an equally ancient chair outside one of the thatched cottages, pointed to the bird, but ignored Brody.

I could be invisible, Brody thought, wryly. I’ve done that. I don’t want it here.

The blacksmith came out of the forge, looked Brody over and decided he was no one he needed to acknowledge then went back inside.

Brody stifled a snort. This was his village, his people and he was unknown to them. Had he changed so much? A few years older, undoubtedly wiser, but still himself, surely? He shook his head. How would he know? After all, did he recognise anyone he saw? No. At that moment it was an alien land to him.

The door of the school opened with a squeak that pierced the quiet afternoon, and a young, dark-haired lady dressed in a deep blue gown emerged. He certainly didn’t know her but one swift look told him he’d like to. In every way possible. As she bent to pick up a large wicker basket from inside the school foyer and then shut the door behind her, her trim figure drew his attention like a lodestone. Brody slowed his horse and stared at her again, willing her to look up. Her gown clung to her contours and showed him a posterior perfectly rounded, and, when she straightened, pert breasts which from that distance looked to be exactly the right size to fill his hands.

For the first time in many a long month a certain part of his anatomy perked up.

Down boy, on a horse is not the place to make your presence felt. However he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman, and was hard pressed not to catcall after her.

Sadly – or perhaps luckily, judging by the state his body was now in – she didn’t so much as glance his way, but walked across the lane and turned into an alley beside the bakery.

Ignored again, by god. Brody on the other hand couldn’t take his eyes off her shapely body. She moved so confidently. Each stride showed a brief glimpse of a well-turned ankle and a sway of that shapely rear. He was a connoisseur of perfect ankles and bottoms. And legs, torsos and breasts. From his vantage point all her features looked more than up to scratch.

He hesitated and wondered how best to make an introduction.

Too late. The lady carried her basket in one hand, lifted the latch and turned into the side entrance of the bakery. The door swung shut behind her and she disappeared from view. In front of an interested baker and goodness knows how many customers was not the time or the place to show interest in a stranger, especially as he would have to tell one and all who he was.

Damn. I’ve lost my touch. Pray to god he found it again, and soon.

Who was she? Brody admitted sadly she might be a lady, but her clothes indicated she was no Lady. Trade? He had no idea, but if he tried to further their acquaintance he could see problems. Brody mentally shook his head at himself. By her very lack of attention to his presence, she was evidently someone else who wasn’t interested in him. It was a salutary lesson. He might be home, but he was now unknown. The story of his life for the last few years.

Brody had hoped that was over and done with, but it seemed not. Although here, even if people didn’t notice him, perhaps he didn’t have to be on guard? And maybe, just maybe, he could discover who the lady was. It was one thing telling himself to forget her, another thing to pay attention to his diktat.

Although, he allowed, as he left the village and set his horse to negotiate the hill up to the castle, it might be a good idea to find out who he now was, first.