When a Rogue Falls
Page 109
“Care to fill me in?” Ramsbury waited, drumming his fingernails on the tabletop.
“I came here to drink, not to prattle,” Seth said.
Ramsbury lifted a brow in amusement. “That bad is it?”
Seth drained his glass before slamming it down on the oak table beside him and waving a servant over to refill the tumbler. “Can a man not get foxed without his nursemaid hounding him?”
“Tisk, tisk. Is there truly any reason for name calling?” Ramsbury chuckled. “This must be worse than I thought. Allow me to guess.” He scratched his chin. “I’ll wager Lady Narissa has much to do with your foul mood.”
Seth glared at him, raising his snifter to his lips. He did not wish to discuss her, he’d come here to wash her from his mind. There was nothing he could do where she was concerned. Bloody hell, he’d spent most of the afternoon pondering a way to mend the rift between them. He had no wish to spend the evening doing the same.
“She reneged on your bargain, and you are too much of a gentleman to follow through with whatever threat you held over her pretty little head? Is that it?”
Seth glared at Ramsbury. “No.”
Undeterred, Ramsbury continued. “Then you have developed unrequited feelings for her.”
“Stuff it, Ramsbury.” Seth tapped his finger on the side of his glass. Perhaps he should take his leave. Seek the solitude of his liquor at home. Or better yet, a lush whore to sate his desire.
“But that is not all of it. There is more, right?” Ramsbury leaned his elbows on his knees. “The only way you can have her is to release her from your deal and risk losing the derby. A stinging blow to your pride to be sure.”
Seth sprang to his feet and began pacing. Why in the hell hadn’t he thought of that? He’d never even considered why she was so against being his jockey. His sole focus had remained on his own desire to win at all costs. Perhaps she had her own reasons. Her own motivations and plans. He turned to Ramsbury. “Thank you.”
“For what, exactly?” Ramsbury asked.
“I am not quite sure as of yet.” Seth headed for the door, determined to sober up and fix things between him and Narissa. But how?
He would find a way. His pride be damned! For in truth he was more than merely attracted to her. Somehow, she’d made him care for her on a deeper level.
Chapter 9
“You are attracted to him.” Josephine handed Narissa a cup of tea.
“I have been, but this is much more than a passing fancy.”
Narissa could not shake the kiss she’d shared with the duke. Other men had kissed her, but they had never warmed her blood as he did. What the deuce had she been thinking? His touch sent thrills through her. She ought to have known his kiss would undo her.
From what she could tell, it had a similar effect on him. His eyes had burned with something more than passion and the gentle yet possessive way he’d held and kissed her spoke of deeper emotions. But then, she could have imagined it.
Josephine stirred a lump of sugar into her own teacup. “What are you saying?”
Narissa sighed. “My reactions to him go deeper than lust. He weighs on my mind far too often. Sends my body into a flurry of need when he comes near, and now has me re-evaluating what is important to me. For heaven sake, I dream about him. Crave him. And I do not mean his touch alone. I wish to know more about him, his secrets, his hobbies, his dreams.”
Narissa paused and glanced out the window. Her mind was a jumble, making it hard for her to convey her thoughts. Giving Josephine a weak smile, she continued. “I fear he has…” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “I just don’t know.”
Josephine stared wide-eyed. “You have fallen in love with him?”
Could it be love? Narissa was not sure. She had never loved anyone in a romantic sense. She certainly did not feel for him as she did her papa, nor their horses, or her club. But then what she felt for her club and horses was very different from what she felt for her papa, and yet, she loved them all.
She sipped her tea. “How does one know when they are in love?”
Josephine sat her cup aside and took Narissa’s hand. “Love is an odd thing. It cannot be forced or planned. Sometimes you look at another and are instantly ensnared. For most it takes time. One day you feel nothing, and over the course of getting familiar with someone, feelings blossom and grow. Often you do not even know it is happening, until one day you realize you cannot go another moment without that special person in your life.”
Narissa pulled her hand back and stood. “Then I do not love the duke. I wish for nothing more than to put Epsom behind me and forget the man.” Her heart hitched as she spoke the words and Narissa could not hide the truth from herself. She’d lied, plain and true for even now she craved the duke’s presence.
“Very well, but understand this, love…true love will always find a way.” Josephine gave a sympathetic grin. “Love will not be denied.”
Narissa nodded as she strolled toward the door. She may well have romantic inclinations toward the duke, but he certainly did not care about her. If he did, he would release her from under his thumb without the threat of exposing her club.
She could not—would not—love a man who treated her in such an abominable way.
Not that she hadn’t been underhanded herself. The duke had no idea that Brooke would be riding Merlin. Nor that Merlin had a good chance of winning.
She nibbled her lower lip. Shame turning her stomach.
There would be other derbies. Perhaps she should hold Merlin for next spring’s race? One thing was certain; she no longer wished to play dirty. The duke must be made aware of her plan.
“Where are you going?” Josephine asked.
Narissa turned back as Josephine sat her teacup aside. “The Duke of Blackmore’s.” Narissa stepped into the hall determined to see him at once.
“Whatever for?” Josephine rushed after her.
“To clear my conscience.” Narissa gave Josephine a sideways glance. “Do not fret.”
“Indeed,” Josephine huffed.
Narissa pulled her cloak tighter about herself as she marched toward the duke’s stables. Despite the bright sun, there was a chill in the air. No matter, a little cool air would not dissuade her. The duke’s butler informed her that he’d gone out for a ride, and she intended to find him before her courage failed. Be damned if she’d let anything get in her way now.
“Good day, Lady Narissa.” The stable master bowed.
“Good day, indeed. Please have a mount readied for me at once.”
“Will you be training?”
“No. I intend to chase down His Grace.” She gave the kind man a smile. “Unfortunately, my carriage is not unto the task.”
“Certainly not.” The stable master gave a wide grin, shaking his head. “His Grace is out on Highflier. Shall I have Banshee saddled?”
“Perfect. Have it done straight away, please? I will be waiting at the mounting block.” The stable master nodded, and she heard him call out the orders as she made her way to the mounting block. As she waited, she cast her gaze around the surrounding land seeking her prey, but there was no sign of the duke anywhere.
With luck, he would not be hard to track. She reached up, patting her chignon, tucking a stray curl into place. What a foolish thing to do. She should not care what she looked like. Besides, the ride was bound to destroy her carefully placed tresses. What a cake she was to fret over her appearance as though she wished to impress him. She didn’t—couldn’t give a whit what he thought.
A stable boy led Banshee to the block, and Narissa swung onto his back. Once seated, she turned to the boy. “Have you any idea which way the duke rode?”
The boy shook his head. “He enjoys the trails in Hyde Park, but I cannot be certain. Sometimes he rides toward the country instead.”
“Very helpful, indeed.” She took up the reins. “How long ago did he depart?”
“I’m sorry, my lady, I cannot answer that as I was not here
.”
“Thank you all the same.” She gave him a smile as he bowed before walking back toward the stables, then turned her attention to the task at hand—finding His Grace.
She needed to decide which way to ride. There were several routes he could have taken. If she chose the wrong direction, she could miss him entirely. It was well past the fashionable hour for Hyde Park.
He could return and be abed for the evening, or out on the ton before she made her way back. Perhaps she should wait here? Her stomach soured. No. She had to find him at once. Her sanity depended on seeing this through.
Just as she was prepared to set out, the stable master rounded the corner with a wooden pail in his hands. Narissa rode nearer to him and inclined her head. “Might you know which way His Grace traveled?”
“He was in a dower mood, my lady. I’d wager he rode out on the north road. ‘Tis a good one for blowing off steam.” The stable master pointed.
Narissa needed no more encouragement. She nodded, then set Banshee into a fast gallop toward the north.
Chapter 10
Narissa had been riding for close to an hour. Dusk was fast approaching, and she hoped to find the duke before nightfall cast the landscape in a veil of darkness. Surely, he would be on his way home—unless he sought entertainment elsewhere. Or had she chosen the wrong route? Perhaps he had already returned from his ride.
Her chest tightened as she wheeled the possibilities through her head. Perhaps she should return home herself, or go back to his residence. Maybe she should forgo this whole idea and keep her secret guarded. She was no quitter, nor was she a swindler. Determination swelled within her, and she set her sights ahead searching the horizon.
She’d find him, then she’d clear her conscious. Narissa taped her heals against Banshee’s sides, increasing his pace. If she reached the village with no sign of him, she’d return to his residence and wait for his return. A sound plan indeed.
Her heart jumped when a group of men and a horse came into view standing in the middle of the road. Pulling on the reins, she slowed Banshee and studied the scene up ahead. A well-dressed man on horseback was surrounded by three other less savory looking men.
As she drew closer, her breath hitched.
It was Highflier and the duke. Was he being robbed?
She kicked Banshee back into a gallop, then thought better of it. She could not race upon them. Doing so could make the matter worse. Turning Banshee toward the side of the road, she directed him to a group of hazel trees and prayed she’d not already been spotted.
She dismounted then secured Banshee to one of the trees. “Do not fret, I will be only a few minutes.” She stroked the horses’ neck, soothing. With little time to spare, she reached into her boot then unsheathed the knife she always kept secured there.
She would sneak up the side of the road and get close enough to help if needed. God willing she and the duke would escape unhurt. Drawing a deep breath, Narissa began creeping toward them.
Her heart pounded rapidly as she continued on. Where in the hell was Bow Street when one needed them? The men came into better view as she made her way toward them. Highpads for sure. They wore dirty tattered clothing. One man held a large stick, while another held a knife, its blade glinting in the waning light. The third had hold of Highflier’s bridle.
Narissa took a deep breath, crouching within the knee-high weeds and nettles that grew thick along the roadside. Thus far, they had not noticed her.
Praying for her luck to continue, she crawled toward the men, ignoring the sting of the nettles and scrape of the weeds against her skin. Her frock became entangled in the overgrowth and she tugged the skirt free, mindless of the damage being done.
“Give us all ye got,” one man shouted.
“Certainly, if you will allow me to dismount.” The duke’s voice was smooth, not a touch of fear permeated it.
Narissa peeked out from the curtain of plants concealing her. Should she burst forth? Distract the highpads? If she did, could she and the duke handle them? Three to Two was hardly a fair fight, but then, they were a ramshackle lot.
Narissa inhaled a deep breath preparing to launch herself into the fray, then stilled. What if her actions got the duke injured? Or worse, killed?
“Nice and slow, milord.” The highwayman ordered, clutching Highflier’s reins as the horse reared up.
She bit her lower lip as the duke slid from Highflier’s back. He swung his fist, smashing the first robber’s face. As the man stumbled back, his knife soaring out of his hand, Seth kicked the second robber in the gut.
While Seth’s back was turned, the third man dropped Highflier’s reins and reached for something in his coat.
The knifes metal flashed, and Narissa burst from the roadside, screaming and wielding her blade. “Seth, watch out.”
He glanced at her, fury in his gaze.
“Behind you!” Narissa charged into the fray as the third man lunged at Seth.
The duke spun around, landing a hard punch that sent the man to the ground.
Panting for breath, Narissa came to stand beside Seth. A cursory glance revealed all three of the robbers were unconscious. She examined Seth, her gaze roaming over every inch of him. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. What the devil are you doing here?” He scowled at her. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“Me? What about you? Taking on three men? “ Her stomach rolled as she grabbed his hand. “You’re bleeding.”
He attempted to pull free. “It is nothing.”
She held firm, pushing his coat sleeve up his arm to get a better look. “You were cut. This needs tending.”
“Later. Right now we need to get out of here.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her to Highflier. Placing her on the saddle, he swung up behind her. The heat of him so near sent her body into chaos and she leaned back craving more contact.
“I tethered Banshee over there.” She pointed to the thicket of trees wishing she could remain seated firmly against his broad chest. A bird-witted desire for certain.
Seth rode to Banshee, one arm holding Narissa tight against his muscled chest. “Can you ride?”
She angled her head, peeking at him from over her shoulder. “I am not the one who’s bleeding.”
He pulled rein, jumped from Highflier’s back, then lifted her down. Meeting her gaze, he said, “Always the viper tongue, aren’t you?”
“Only when it comes to you.” She grabbed Banshee’s saddle, pulling herself up as Seth untied the horse. “Now hurry, I fear we haven’t much time.”
“Ride with all due haste. Neck or nothing, you hear me?”
Narissa nodded.
He slapped Banshee’s hind quarter, setting the horse into motion.
Never had she been so frightened as when that highpad pulled his knife. In that second, she had realized how much Seth meant to her.
When they returned, she would tend his wound, then she’d confess her plan for the derby. If she hoped to have any kind of relationship with him, she had to be honest. Her throat went dry when his stable came into view. What if he could not forgive her?
Chapter 11
Seth winced as Narissa patted his wound with a whisky-soaked cloth. “Have a care.”
“I am being as gentle as possible.” She set the rag aside, then retrieved a strip of white cloth. “Almost done.”
As she bound his wound, he stared at her, amazed at treasure she’d turned out to be. She was a marvel. Brave, determined, capable, and beautiful. He wanted her to love and to keep—not only in his bed but beside him for all the rest of his days. “Narissa?”
She glanced up, her brow drawn in concentration. “Yes?”
“I have been a fool, though I will not apologize.” Her eyes rounded and he continued. “My foolishness brought you into my life, and for that, I cannot be sorry.”
“Oh.” She fastened his bandage around his arm, a slight grin playing at her luscious lips, then meet his stare once more.
“Do go on.”
“Sit,” he commanded.
She lowered herself onto the chair across from him, her gaze never leaving his.
He took her hand and gave a slight squeeze, relishing how perfectly it fit in his. “It has become clear to me that winning the derby means as much, if not more, to you than it does me. I do not pretend to understand your motivation, but I do know I can no longer stand in your way. You are free to ride whatever mount pleases you at Epsom.”
Her mouth fell open, then closed. She glanced away, her shoulders rounding.
He swallowed hard. That was not at all the reaction he’d expected.
She should be squealing with joy. Rushing from his home to prepare her own mount. Had he misunderstood her? Upset her?
“I had thought to please you.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Narissa.” Her name came out barely a whisper.
She brought her gaze back to his, placing her other hand on top of his. “I have a confession. It is why I rode after you…to tell you that I…”
He nodded, encouraging her to go on. Waiting for her to confess her love. Surely that was what she intended. His pulse sped, heart pounding as he waited for her words to come.
“I have been training Lady Brooke to ride Merlin with the intention of entering him at Epsom.” She tore her gaze from his, casting it to the floor. Her cheeks blossomed scarlet. “And he will win. His average exercise times exceed Banshee’s.”
Seth dropped her hands, stood, then strolled the length of his parlor. What the devil? Here he’d thought her as enamored with him as he was with her and the whole while she’d been double-crossing him. Why?
He glared at her, his heart squeezing. Did her reasons even matter? He’d already determined to release her from their deal—already given her his heart.
“You should also know that I’ve decided not to enter Merlin. I have no wish to gain my victory in an underhanded way.”