“Such as goats?”
His feathers ruffled. He couldn’t help it any more now than he had when his eldest brother, Francis, likewise questioned him.
“Large estates like Dinton Grange lose tenants and money wi’ each passing year. If the marquis is to keep his cottagers on and no’ gi' over his land entirely to cows and sheep, changes will have to be made if he wants to keep enjoying the clink of sterling in his pocket.”
“He does like those. I hear.”
“We all do.”
A scant smile lifted her lips. “Good to know you have sound reasoning to support your ideas. I’d feared you might be one of those British Goat Society folk. Wanting to show the beasties off as if they were prime horseflesh.”
Since he’d gotten the idea after being cornered at a London ball he’d escorted his sister to the previous Season by one of those society folk with no polite means of deliverance, there was no beneficial response to her comment. He’d read their pamphlet out of pure boredom. Aye, their goal for prize breeding smacked of insanity, however, their aim to aid the cottagers made solid sense.
“I’ve more in mind for Dinton Grange than a few goats.” Connor found himself defending his ideas. “The new farmlands will allow for oats and barley to supplement the wheat they already grow. Potatoes, too, if I have anything to say about it. Estate owners will need to be diverse if they hope to…” He trailed off as an impish grin formed on her lips. “What?”
“You’re a farmer.”
He straightened, stretching the aggrieved knot that tightened his chest at the thought that she might think less of him. “I’m the son of an earl.”
“You’re a farmer,” she repeated, with a burst of laughter.
Connor glared at her a moment then relented. “And what is wrong wi’ that, precisely? Wanting nothing more than the achievement of a hard day’s work? To feel the earth in my hands? To be a good man?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
* * *
A good man.
Piper’s amusement faded away. She’d always thought Harry to be the best of men. Her father and stepfather a pace or two behind him. A wistful sigh welled up. As if he sensed the change in her mood, Connor’s steady gaze lingered, patient and waiting.
“I suppose I haven’t known many. Experience has taught me that there are two types of men in the world. Those who are all spit and shine. All gloss and no substance. Any caring they demonstrate is only a false reflection of that polish, a mirage really. Like an oasis in the desert, gone when you need it the most.”
“Hardly complimentary to my gender. And the other?”
“Then there are those who are so tarnished no amount of polish can make them shine.” It was now or never, she supposed. It was what she sought him out for, after all. With unavoidable changes on the horizon, her need for unbiased advice was greater than ever. “It has become a challenge for me to place my trust in men.”
He frowned at that. “I dinnae ken how ye can say that. Ye’ve every man in the county watching out for ye.”
“Not every one.” Piper shook her head. “These men, they are my people. I’ve known most of them my entire life, and they protect me because of that. Like them, you’ve shown that you will not betray my presence. Regrettably, I’ve recently learned that loyalties can change. My point is that I’ve taken your measure, Mr. MacKintosh.”
He winced. “Have ye now? I should hate to fall into either of those categories. There is another sort of man.”
Connor reined in his horse and she pulled up with a frown. “Mr. MacKintosh, what are you about?”
“Please call me Connor.” He dismounted and came to her side, his gorgeous eyes solemn as he raised his arms. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“Come here, lass,” he repeated, his brogue deep.
“Mr. MacKintosh…”
“Connor.”
What was it that compelled her to comply? The slow rolling burr of his name? The gentle insistence in his eyes? She didn’t know. Leaning toward him, Piper set her hands on his broad shoulders and slid from Dandy’s back. Connor grasped her waist and held her there, aloft yet steady.
A heartbeat later—or was it an eternity?—he lowered her slowly until her toes touched the ground. His strong hands lingered at her waist as he looked down at her.
“Ye can trust me, lass. As ye trusted me now so readily. There are men who are stalwart and honorable. I willnae let ye fall. I will never fail ye. Ye have my word.”
His assertion settled in her heart with all the promise of a guiding light in the dark. A promise as solid as the breadth of his shoulders beneath her hands. Shoulders broad enough to take all of her weight should she choose to lean upon them.
Hard and muscular, unmalleable under her kneading fingers. Piper stilled, eyes downcast. She should remove her hands. As he should his. Nevertheless, there she stood. Savoring the heat that radiated through his shirt. Recalling the sight of him. Marveling at the feel of him.
“This was meant to be an exercise in trust, lass.” His voice grew deep and husky. “Dinnae tempt me to fail ye now.”
Piper met his gaze once more, that melting mysterious green like a dark forest, marveling at the heat in his eyes as she had the heat against her hands. He smelled earthy and manly with not a hint of noxious cologne. Eyelids heavy, she leaned into him.
With a low curse, he closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky. His bared throat worked with an audible swallow. The growth of new whiskers darkened the underside of his chin, stubble roughening the taut expanse. A pang of something she couldn’t quite identify spiraled in her belly, and the impulse to kiss him there seized her. To lick him. To explore the texture and taste of him on her tongue.
Shock at the directions of her thoughts enfolded her, dumbfounding her to the point where she didn’t act upon the urge. Thank goodness. How mortifying that would have been!
As his chin descended, her eyes darted up to meet his before being irresistibly drawn back to his full lips.
“Dinnae look at me like that, lass,” he growled.
“Like what?”
“Like ye want to kiss me.”
She did want to kiss him. She’d been taken by surprise the first time and it had been over far too fast. This time, she wanted to savor it. Memorize every aspect. Her fingers crept up his neck to trace the line of his jaw. His long, shaky inhale sent a quiver of something through her chest and her own breath caught short.
With a low moan, he gathered her close. His breath a warm caress against the fine hairs at her temple before his lips grazed the spot. As it had when she’d seen Connor with his shirt off, the day seemed suddenly steamy, sultry. Her head buzzed as if she’d over imbibed.
Another harsh breath mixed with a groan and he lifted his head with a muttered curse. He caught her trembling hands in his and pressed his lips to each palm before setting her away from him.
“On second thought,” she heard him mumble before he grasped her around the waist and tossed her onto Dandy’s back as if she weighed no more than a child. “I think we’re better off wi’ ye up there and out of reach.”
Piper failed to agree with that sentiment but held her tongue. Her head swam to the point she feared she might fall from her horse. She managed to settle herself in the saddle while Connor remounted. With a click of his tongue, he kicked the horse into motion and she brought Dandy alongside him, watching Connor’s face all the while.
A muscle jumped in his cheek. His lips compressed into a thin line. She might have thought him angry if she weren’t experiencing a fair amount of frustration herself. She’d wanted that kiss.
He’d refrained not only because he was a gentleman but because he was determined to prove himself worthy of her trust. She’d heard enough stories from Jane to know even presumably honorable men would press their advantage to steal a kiss. Some would have taken it regardless. She had some familiarity with men who were insistent regarding their wants.
Bit
ing her lip, Piper shifted her attention to the path ahead with the reminder. And to what she’d wanted to talk to Connor about because she did hold a measure of regard for him.
Because he was a good man.
“If you’d given me a moment longer, I would have clarified that in saying I’d taken your measure, I’d concluded you’re not entirely like most men.”
“Entirely? I’m no’ certain I’m satisfied wi’ even that.”
“You do convey a fair amount of caprice.”
He considered his dirt-stained and worn linen shirt pointedly. “Fresh out of polish, I’m afraid.”
Piper shook her head in exasperation, biting back a smile. “You’re rather impossible, do you know that?”
“Aye, but charming and remarkably trustworthy at the same time.” He punctuated the claim with a roguish wink.
He did have a talent for dispersing her anxiety. Each time her nerves began to jangle, he found some way to ease them, whether it be with a jest or a gesture to demonstrate his steadfast character.
She prayed her instincts about him weren’t wrong.
“My father and my stepfather were both good men.” The lightness he roused in her faded. Her emotions were changing like the ebb and rise of an evening tide. Aware that he was solemnly attuned to her words now, she ran her hand down Dandy’s neck and gave the horse a light pat. A bit of encouragement for herself. “They deserved better than my mother. She’d married them both to elevate her position, before either was able to grasp the depths of her avarice. Luckily, both were smart enough to tie their wealth in enough legal knots to keep it from her when they died. After my stepfather died, she was left with a bit of a conundrum.”
Connor reached across the space between them and clasped her hand. Another of those gestures of confidence. “When was this?”
“More than two years ago. December of ’92, I wasn’t quite eighteen,” she told him. “Mother was on the hunt for another husband within days of my stepfather’s funeral. You have to understand, she didn’t give a fig for the proper etiquette of mourning. She would defy any moral standard if it were to her advantage. This time, though, in order to elevate herself, she had to include me in the bargain. She arranged a marriage for me.”
Piper paused at the words. Arranged a marriage. So mundane. They said nothing of the betrayal of the moment. The misery of what was to come.
“Archaic practice,” he commented.
Yes, a ridiculous one, as she could attest. As could many of her friends and any combination of Queen Victoria’s children, no doubt. Unfortunately, that ‘archaic practice’ remained common enough among the highest echelons of society, where the conjoining of fortunes and advancement of titles held sway over preferences of the heart. Providing any of those qualifications to Connor would mean explaining her position among them. Therefore, she merely shrugged her response.
“This was before the balls and courtship, I take it?”
His subtle prompt roused a dash of wry humor, enough for her to carry on. “The man she chose for me was the son of a…”—the enormity of what she was about to entrust him with struck and her conviction in his fidelity faltered, so Piper found herself skirting the truth—“son of a wealthy merchant. The merchant agreed to marry my mother if I married his son. Only if I married his son. I knew my mother was grasping. Her greed knows no bounds, but…” She paused and glanced at Connor, his encouraging gaze trained on her. “I suppose I should have known selling her only child to the devil to obtain her goals would rank low on a list of her sins.”
His mouth turned down in the corners. He was smart enough to glean an approximation of the truth from her words. She needn’t go on for him to understand her circumstances. Best to skip the rest and ask his opinion on her precarious situation…
“Her choice of a groom for me…suffice it to say, he is not a good man.” Piper moistened her suddenly dry lips. Her pulse knocked a tad askance. His fingers tightened around hers. She’d forgotten he continued to hold her hand. That she wasn’t alone now. “I knew some of his reputation and refused to marry him. At first, it seemed as though the merchant would accept my answer, but then…”
But then.
Her heart pounded against her ribs with such intensity it triggered a corresponding quake to her stomach, sending it churning. Just as Rutledge had.
“I wrote my guardian for help. My legal guardian. His permission was required because of my age, you see? My mother assured me that she had his approval for the match. I didn’t want to believe her as I was confident my custodian had far more of a care for me than she did. I kept writing, hoping he would come and save me.”
“They could no’ have forced the marriage, lass.”
“They were not terribly concerned with the legalities of it. Better to call it coercion.” Her head pounded in time with her heart now as the memories she’d struggled to keep locked away burst forth. Throat thick, achy, she couldn’t go on.
“Mrs. Milbourne…bugger it, may I call ye Lillian?”
Staring blindly forward, seeing nothing beyond the past, for a moment she forgot where she was. Who she was with.
“Piper.” Biting her lip, she glanced at him, fearing his recognition. Fortunately, there was no telling flare in his eyes. Only a comforting smile on his lips. The fearful pounding in her temples slackened a bit. “The d—merchant was furious with me, my rejection. I knew I could not wait in futile hope for assistance. You have to understand, it wasn’t simply marriage I ran from. I wasn’t being fussy or particular. It was him.”
“Did he hurt ye?”
“He…he frightened me.” Piper evaded the unanswerable question by soldiering on. “I didn’t know where else to go, hence my arrival at Aylesbury. I’d grown up around here and knew I had friends who could help me hide from my mother and from him.”
“What about this guardian of yers? Why no’ go to—” He cut himself off with a frown. “Aye, I ken ye felt ye cannae trust him any longer.”
“By that time, it did not matter whether I could or could not. I had to act with or without his assistance. I heard some time later that he’d visited to Scotland Yard to report me as missing,” she told him. “It’s been the opinion of some that he searched for me out of love. After all that happened, I couldn’t take that chance.”
“I cannae say I blame ye.”
“Don’t you?” she asked in surprise. “There have been some who insist I should.”
“If he’s no’ proven himself a good man, I’d say ye made a wise choice.”
How satisfying to receive some validation of her choices. And somehow displeasing at the same time. Harry had always been a good man. A good brother.
“Ye ken, given yer comments about Middlemarch, I’d initially thought ye running from an unfortunate union,” Connor observed. “No’ trying to avoid one.”
“It will be more than mere effort I give to that matter, Mr. MacKintosh.” If she had conviction in nothing else, she was firm on that. “I will avoid it. At all cost. From the moment I left my choices have been my own. I live life on my own terms with no one to tell me what to do or force me to do things I don’t want.”
He allowed a moment’s pause to fully absorb her declaration. “But ye aren’t living, lass,” he pointed out. “Ye’re hiding.”
She jerked her head stiffly and turned forward to see that though they’d taken a broadly circuitous route, they were now on a narrow gravel road that led to the Grange’s stables. Without a firm hand to guide him, Dandy had worked his way back to the comfort of his stall and the bucket of oats that would be waiting for him. Instinct had driven him home.
As it had propelled Piper home two years ago.
“What else am I to do?” she half-asked, half-accused Connor. It was the question she sought the answer to. She tugged her hand from his grasp and flung her arm wide. “Hie myself off to America?”
“Why no’?”
She’d thrown Mrs. Davies words at him as a bitter jest. With a hearty rol
l of her eyes, Piper yanked Dandy’s reins to the left and away from the stables. The stubborn horse, knowing home was near, jerked his head back. Control seesawed back and forth before they were left standing with nowhere to go.
She could apply the same analogy in regards to Connor in that moment. His version of sharing her burden left her adrift with no certain direction to turn. All she knew was that her current state of affairs wouldn’t be an option soon enough.
Connor must have shared her discontent as he ran his hands through his thick dark hair until it stood on end. “Do ye believe this merchant’s desire to have ye for his son endures after all this time?”
“I know he, too, made a visit to Scotland Yard.” Another evasion.
“Then the most obvious solution would be to leave this place.”
Exasperation flooded her. “As if the answer is so simple. Mr. MacKintosh, I’ve told you all of this because you offered your help. I was hoping, as an unbiased observer, you might have an alternative suggestion for me.”
“Aye, and I have. If ye dinnae feel safe here, find somewhere ye do,” he told her. “Ye can start anew, make the life ye want for yerself. If ye’re in need of help or funds, I’ll assist ye in any way possible.”
“I pick myself up and drop myself somewhere new?” Unexpected. Unknown. Unfamiliar. Piper shook her head. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It can be.”
His confidence astonished her. “I somehow doubt you’ve ever struggled, Mr. MacKintosh.” Suffered.
“One might say having eight older brothers holds its own level of torment.”
Her patience snapped. “I’m serious.”
“And I am no’?” He matched her impatient tone with one of his own. “There’s something lost in being one of many. I was neither oldest nor youngest. No’ the smartest nor the funniest. No’ the most ambitious or extraordinary. I was lost among the maddened crowd wi’ nothing to recommend me beyond being Fiona’s favorite. At least I had that, I suppose. However, dinnae judge me when ye have nae desire to be judged in turn, Mrs. Milbourne.”
There was cynicism enough in his tone to suggest he suspected the name to be a false one. He’d also proven himself clever enough to deduce that she was in hiding. If he’d determined so much in little more than a day’s acquaintance, what more would he reason out in the days to come?
A Question for the Ages (Questions for a Highlander Book 7) Page 8
