The Bachelor

by Jeffries, Sabrina

  She sighed and looked away. “No.”

  With her heart clamoring in her chest, she helped him restore her clothing to its proper place and then donned her gloves. What would he do now? Pretend again that they hadn’t kissed? Ignore those magical caresses she would never forget?

  “We should go,” he said, avoiding her gaze as he put on his own gloves and retied his queue.

  When he started to move away, she grabbed his arm. “Joshua, don’t.”

  He tensed. “Don’t what?”

  “Act as if nothing happened. We should talk about—”

  “Why?” He stared at her with a stoic expression. “Do you wish to marry me?”

  The blunt question took her off guard. Afraid she might spill her soul to him, she made a feeble attempt at humor. “Not if you’re going to make light of our intimacies every time they happen.”

  “Answer the question, and not with a jest.”

  “It’s just that—”

  “If you’re seeking to explain it, I know the answer.” He started to turn away.

  “Now see here, Major Grumbler. Why don’t you answer the question? Do you wish to marry me?”

  “I’m not marrying a woman who would use her feminine wiles as a way to get around me. To get what she wants.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know better than to think you actually desire me.” He scowled at her. “You merely want to wrap me around your finger so you can do as you please while we’re in London—not let me know where you’re going, not allow me to accompany you, head off on walks and rides without any escort but a groom.”

  She gaped at him. “That’s what you think of me? That I’m the worst sort of flirt, the worst sort of woman, who would manipulate a man by using my ‘feminine wiles’ to get my way? No wonder you have no wish to marry me, if that’s how you see me. And that’s precisely why I have no wish to marry a suspicious fellow like you, Joshua Wolfe!”

  Stalking away from him, she headed for her horse. The man was impossible, unbelievable! She refused to put up with him and his groundless suspicions. Only think what he would say if he knew why she hesitated!

  “Damn it, Gwyn!” he growled, scooping up his cane so he could hurry after her. “Hold up, for God’s sake!”

  Thank heavens she could mount without him. As soon as she was in the saddle, she rode off, leaving him to his own devices.

  Cursing a blue streak behind her, he apparently managed to mount his own horse using the horse block, for he galloped after her. By the time he caught up to her, he was clearly livid. “You can’t go running off like that. Malet might even now be watching us.”

  “I don’t think Mr. Malet is the problem at present,” she said in icy tones. “I rather think it’s your warped ideas about women—how they behave, how they should behave.”

  “It has nothing to do with behavior,” he ground out. “You’re the daughter of a wealthy duke and the sister of another such. I am but a retired soldier on half-pay, and a damaged one at that. Logic dictates that you can’t help but be aware of that difference.”

  “So now you think it’s logical to assume I’m toying with your affections? Is that it? Or is it that you simply don’t like the idea of a woman like me having a say in such things as her own desires?”

  Not that his ideas were any different from everyone else’s. Even Thorn would despise her if he knew everything that had happened years ago with Lionel.

  When Joshua remained silent, proving he was like the rest of them, she stiffened and cantered ahead. This time he let her.

  She rode in a fury, fighting to hold back tears. How dare he rouse her . . . desires and then accuse her of toying with him! He was the one doing the toying. Just like Lionel, he wanted to have his cake and eat it, too. Men!

  As they neared the tavern where he’d sent the groom, he rode up beside her once more. “We have to stop here. We dare not return to Armitage House without your groom.”

  That was true. It would raise questions neither of them wanted to answer. “Fine,” she said and reined in.

  But when she remained in the saddle as he dismounted and tied off his horse, he came around to the side of hers. “We both go in or neither of us do. And I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand here for the remainder of the day.”

  Letting out a heavy breath, she dismounted as well, then strode into the tavern, leaving him to limp after her. But before she could so much as look for the groom, the youth came running up to them.

  “Thank the good Lord you’ve come, milady,” he said. “Almost went after you, but I figured I best not lead the gentleman to you. So I just been sittin’ here biding me time, hopin’ you came soon.”

  Joshua instantly went on the alert. She could see it in the stiffening of his spine, the way he gripped his cane, the hard glance he cast her way. “What gentleman?” he asked the groom.

  “Didn’t give his name, though one of the maids called him ‘Cap’n.’ He said he was a friend of milady’s. Used her name properlike and everything.”

  It had to be Lionel, blast it. A pox upon the man! She would never get his money to him if he didn’t stop putting Joshua on his guard.

  “I don’t know how he got this far.” Joshua rubbed his chin. “He definitely didn’t follow us out here.”

  “Told me he got your direction from the butler, he did, but I knew better’n that,” the groom said. “Our butler don’t tell nobody nothin’ unless he knows ’em.”

  Joshua frowned. “There’s any number of servants he could have questioned to find out what he needed to learn, although he wouldn’t have received answers, because I was careful who I told.”

  “What about the servants at Grey’s house?” Gwyn pointed out. “You said you went there last night. One of them might have overheard you.”

  The groom bobbed his head. “The gentleman did say he was told that her ladyship wanted to practice at archery at a place near this tavern.”

  “He wouldn’t have been told that at Armitage House,” Joshua said. “But Greycourt mentioned the tavern when he told me he knew of a place.” He looked over at Gwyn. “Your brother clearly has an overly talkative servant working for him.”

  “Perhaps. Though that doesn’t sound like someone Grey would hire.”

  “Do you and the lady fancy a drink, sir?” asked a buxom maid as she approached. “We got the best ale this side of London, and there’s a table back there if ye want privacy.” She pointed to the back of the tavern.

  “Yes, we’ll take it,” Joshua said. When Gwyn eyed him askance, he murmured, “I need to know everything Malet said to your groom before he forgets it.”

  Clearly, Joshua had returned to his bodyguard stance. Gwyn only hoped that Malet had been discreet enough not to hint to the groom at how much he knew of her past.

  As soon as they’d sat down and the maid had taken their order, Joshua resumed his questioning. “Now, tell me word for word exactly how the conversation went with this captain fellow.”

  “Lemme see, sir.” The groom lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if consulting his memory there. “First, he come up to me, acting all high and mighty, and asked where me mistress was. I thought he was tryin’ to be high in the instep about me sittin’ at a table all grand, like the quality, so I told him ’tweren’t none of his affair where she were. Then he turned all smiles and told me he knew me mistress, that he recognized me livery, and that’s why he asked after her.”

  A chill ran through her. If Lionel had recognized the Armitage livery when he was nowhere near the town house, he must have familiarized himself with it. And though it shouldn’t surprise her, it made her uneasy.

  Judging from Joshua’s grim look, he apparently felt the same way. As soon as their mugs of ale had arrived and the maid had gone, he took a big sip, then leaned over the table. “What did you say to the fellow then?”

  “I told him she were down the road, learning archery from Major Wolfe. Once he heard your name, he didn’t look t
oo pleased.”

  “I would imagine not,” Joshua drawled. “He thought he was going to catch her alone. Hard to kidnap a woman when a presumably armed marine officer is about.”

  “Kidnap!” the groom exclaimed. “He was out to kidnap her ladyship? I’m that glad then that I didn’t say anythin’ about where you were.”

  “I am, too,” Joshua said. “And feel free to spread the news of Malet’s villainy among your fellow servants, in case Malet approaches any of them.”

  She stiffened. “If he tells the staff, Mama is sure to hear of it. And you promised not to let that happen.”

  He set down his mug hard enough that some ale splashed out of it. “Damn it, Gwyn, how am I supposed to protect you if I have to keep everything secret?”

  “I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “But I trust that you will figure that out.”

  The groom had been watching their interchange with avid interest and now ventured to add his own opinion. “Never fear, milady. I can just tell the others that a villain named Cap’n Malet is after Major Wolfe, so they should inform the major if the man comes nosin’ around.”

  “That will work.” Joshua gazed at her. “Don’t you think?”

  “Now you want my opinion?” she snapped. Then, realizing she sounded like a scold, she sighed. “Yes, that’s fine.” She took a sip of her ale but could barely swallow. This day wasn’t going the way she’d hoped.

  Joshua turned back to the groom. “Did Malet say anything more after that?”

  “No, sir. Just walked out, all in a miff. But now you see why I didn’t go back to where you and milady were. Couldn’t risk the fellow followin’ me.”

  “Very good tactic, thank you.” Joshua took a long swig.

  Gwyn smiled at the groom and took out her purse. “I must thank you, too.” She handed him a guinea. “How clever of you to be careful of what you said.”

  He took the guinea, eyes widening. “If’n you ever need help, milady, you just let me know,” he said fervently.

  “I will keep that in mind.” She looked at Joshua. “Can we go now?”

  “Of course.” He rose and put some shillings on the table. Then he nodded at her mug. “You barely touched your ale.”

  “I’d had enough.”

  She stood, and Joshua came up beside her to offer her his arm. She didn’t take it. Their recent argument was still too fresh in her mind. Nonetheless, she needed to make sure of one thing. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell Thorn about this.”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” he said as they walked toward the door.

  That took her by surprise. “Why not?”

  “Because first I want to see how Malet learned where to look for you. It might give me a hint to where he’s hiding himself in London, and I could then tell your brother so he could handle the fellow himself.”

  Blast him for being so good at his job as bodyguard. “Oh. That makes sense.”

  “Why don’t you want me to tell him?”

  “Thorn will insist upon following me around, too, and then I’ll have two watchdogs instead of one. It will make it a jot difficult to have suitors.”

  “I don’t know what you’re worried about,” he said testily. “Everywhere you go you make another conquest. First Malet and now the groom. And you haven’t even had your debut yet.”

  “I notice you don’t include yourself in that number of conquests. Apparently, I’m very bad at using my feminine wiles. You saw right through them.”

  “Gwyn,” he said, “I didn’t mean to—”

  She didn’t stay to hear whatever feeble apology he offered, if he offered one. She was rapidly learning why Beatrice had a contentious relationship with her brother.

  Because despite his laudable bodyguard skills, Joshua could be a real arse sometimes.

  Chapter Ten

  The next day at Armitage House, Joshua came down for breakfast late, which never happened in the country. He had expected the constant racket in the street to keep him awake, but somehow it was doing the reverse. That made no sense to him.

  He was still musing over it when he entered the morning room to find Thornstock there reading the paper. Normally, that would be odd—the duke had his own town house, after all—but today Thornstock was accompanying Gwyn and Lady Hornsby to Gwyn’s presentation at court. In fact, nearly the whole family would be converging on Armitage House soon, because Greycourt was to accompany Beatrice, and Aunt Lydia wanted to see everyone’s court regalia before they headed off without her.

  Some years ago, Queen Charlotte had laid down the law regarding proper attire for presentations at court. Men had to wear powdered wigs and breeches, and ladies had to wear ridiculous dresses with trains and enormous hoops, not to mention as many tall feathers in their coiffures as they could manage. The unmarried ladies had to wear white. The wives of peers being presented for the first time could wear whatever color they pleased. But both were expected to adorn themselves with a great deal of their most expensive jewelry.

  Or so Joshua had read. He hadn’t seen Gwyn or Beatrice in their gowns yet, but Thornstock certainly looked uncomfortable in his wig.

  “Wolfe!” Thornstock said as Joshua sat down with his plate of toast and sausages. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m done with the Times if you want it.”

  “Sorry,” Joshua said. “I was distracted by that enormous sheep on your head.”

  The man chuckled as he handed Joshua the paper, then picked up a gazette. “I shall have to remember that one. Perhaps your witticism will get back to Her Majesty, and she’ll realize that wigs went out of fashion a decade ago. I don’t even make my footmen and coachman wear them anymore, for God’s sake.”

  Thornstock carefully inserted one finger under the wig. “I forgot that they itch, too. Or perhaps that’s the powder. I can’t believe we used to wear the bloody things all the time.”

  Joshua ate some toast. “You do look very important in it.”

  Thornstock gave a mirthless laugh. “If you say so. Just be glad you don’t have to be at court today.”

  “One more advantage to not being a peer.”

  He used to see nothing but advantages to that. But last night’s wildly erotic dreams about Gwyn had made him rethink his opinion. Over and over, he’d taken Gwyn to bed—in every way a lover could.

  Or a husband. One who would have a better chance with her if he were a peer.

  Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? She was destined for greater things, something she obviously realized in her more rational moments, when she wasn’t letting him—

  He had to stop thinking of that.

  Thornstock poured himself some coffee, then held up the pot with a questioning glance.

  Joshua shoved a cup toward him. “Thank you.”

  “I’m surprised you drink it at all,” the duke said as he poured Joshua a cup. “Most Englishmen prefer tea.”

  “I picked up a craving for coffee in the marines,” Joshua said, adding a generous amount of milk to the cup before drinking.

  “My friends think it’s odd that I prefer it, but I got in the habit of having it for breakfast while growing up in Berlin.” The duke sighed. “And I need whatever sustenance I can get because I have to play bodyguard to Gwyn in your stead today.”

  Joshua sipped some of the bracing brew. “You have my complete sympathies.”

  Thornstock narrowed his gaze on Joshua. “Is she giving you trouble?”

  Absolutely, but not in the way Thornstock probably thought. “No more than usual,” Joshua said evasively. He merely needed time away from Gwyn to get his reckless urges under control.

  “Well, I doubt any questionable gentlemen will approach Gwyn inside the palace, even if they could get near her with that huge gown she’ll be wearing. So I’m not carrying a pistol in this coat. If Malet shows up, which is highly unlikely, I’ll just thrash him. I’ve wanted to do that anyway.”

  Joshua tensed. For all his seeming indolence, Thornstock was a skilled duelist and r
egularly went to Gentleman Jackson’s academy for lessons from the famous pugilist. So the duke could certainly thrash Malet many times over. And if Thornstock ever heard how Joshua had behaved with Gwyn . . .

  No. That must not happen. Joshua’s father had died in a senseless, scandalous duel that had devastated Beatrice and resulted in Joshua being sent off to war. Not that he regretted becoming a Royal Marine, but his life would have been vastly different if his father hadn’t died and left his children without a penny. So Joshua wasn’t about to fight Thornstock in a duel, not if he could avoid it.

  “In any case,” the duke said, “I’m told these affairs go on for hours, so we probably won’t return until evening. Fortunately, the ball Grey is throwing for Gwyn and Beatrice is at his town house, which means Sheridan doesn’t have to worry about hosting it here.” He regarded Joshua steadily. “I intend to make only a brief appearance, so I do expect you to be present when we arrive at Grey’s.”

  “Of course. It’s supposedly my reason for coming to London, remember? To see my sister’s debut ball?”

  “Ah, yes. I forgot about that.” Thornstock sipped some coffee. “Malet isn’t invited, of course, but he might try to attend anyway, so we’d best be prepared.”

  “I agree. The man can be unpredictable.” As evidenced by the bastard’s showing up yesterday at that tavern.

  Pure rage coursed through Joshua whenever he thought of how close Malet had come to her. He actually wished Malet would trespass this evening, so he could use that as an excuse to shoot the devil.

  It still gnawed at him that he didn’t know how Malet had learned about their archery lessons. Last night he’d questioned the servants here, and then the servants at Greycourt’s mansion. None had spoken to Malet. Or rather, none had admitted to speaking to Malet.

  That reminded him of his initial suspicion that Malet and Gwyn had known each other in the past. “Speaking of Malet, do you know if he and Gwyn ever met before that day he tried to kidnap her at the estate?”