The Romany Heiress

by Nikki Poppen

  Giles handed her up onto the seat, and Cate nervously fiddled with her skirts. She felt his weight on the seat as he settled beside her and took up the reins, clucking to the horses.

  Cate kept her eyes forward, trying not to give into the temptation of staring at the handsome man on the seat next to her, so close that their thighs touched as the curricle jounced down the road on its two wheels.

  “Your friends think you need protection,” she commented, referring to Tristan’s offer to take the curricle so that she and Giles would not be alone.

  Giles laughed at that, a merry, loud sound that appeared to be genuine as he threw back his head and let the breeze ruffle his hair. “Tristan’s been itching to get his hands on these bays since June. If I’d let him drive, he would have raced this gig all the way to Staines. We’re all horse mad, you know.”

  He gave her a jolly wink that provoked a sense of longing deep inside her-a longing for this day with its beautiful weather and the handsome man beside her to be real, not merely the forced product of her actions.

  “Besides, you and I need to talk. This might be the only privacy we have all day” His words reminded her vividly of how contrived this glorious moment was. She was with him only because circumstances dictated that she was too dangerous for him to be left alone.

  Cate straightened on the narrow seat and tried to put a bit of meager distance between their jouncing thighs. She kept her tone brisk. “Telling the maid the story of my ‘circumstances’ was clever. Be assured, I listened avidly to her chatter this morning.” He needed to be reminded that she was no green girl of seventeen, fresh from the isolation of the schoolroom. She was a woman full-grown who had seen much of life and knew her own mind. Any weakness she showed him was sure to be exploited.

  “There is more to it than a mishap with your vehicle. People will want to know who you are. You are Lady Cate Winthrop”

  “Winthrop was mother’s name before she married,” Cate said quietly, almost reverently. “Are you sure that would be appropriate?”

  “Absolutely,” Giles remarked stiffly, clearly not caring to be second guessed. “Simply, you are to be called Lady Cate as is the custom when addressing the daughter of an earl, marquis, or duke. In this case, the daughter of an earl. On occasion, people may refer to you as Miss Cate”

  “I know who my mother was,” Cate cut in sharply. This was a dangerous moment. She could not sit there quietly and let him lecture her about the state of the family. If she truly was Celeste Moncrief’s daughter, she would know about her own mother. “She was Celeste Winthrop, daughter of the Earl of Stonebridge, before she married father.”

  Giles gave a curt nod of his head and clucked to the horses, slapping the reins. His jaw clenched, and Cate knew she’d annoyed him with her acerbic reply. She drew a deep breath and tried to soften the moment. He might hate what she was here to do, but perhaps he didn’t have to hate her.

  “Who would you like me to be? Should Lady Cate be a cousin?”

  “A very distant cousin,” Giles said. “If anyone asks for specifics, you can make an airy gesture and say something about a far-flung branch of the family tree”

  “Ah, a fourth cousin then?” She’d meant only to tease.

  “No!” Giles snapped. “Do not dare to be so specific. We cannot risk anyone being interested enough to trace the family line.”

  “Oof!” The curricle hit a rut in the road, and Cate was tossed against Giles. She landed against the strength of his shoulder and grabbed at his arm to right herself.

  “Are you alright?” Giles inquired with gentlemanly reserve.

  Cate blew out a breath. “Only a bit jarred” In truth, she felt more shaken from the contact with the muscled hardness of his body than the jolt itself. The curricle lurched again, and she clutched at his arm once more to steady herself. “I’d much rather ride on a horse than a buggy any day,” she said awkwardly, feeling self conscience and yet not able to trust her own balance against the jouncing road, in order to release her hold on his arm.

  She was further embarrassed to see Giles cast a disparaging glance downward to where her hand gripped his sleeve.

  “That’s another thing we must address,” Giles said sternly. “What happened in my chambers last night cannot be repeated. As a gentleman, I need to apologize for allowing that kiss to happen”

  She should accept his apology demurely and say nothing, but his prickly attitude and high-handed manner with which he’d conducted the entire conversation roused her temper and left her feeling querulous. “Well, I should think so. Being dropped unceremoniously on one’s backside is hardly what one expects when one is being so thoroughly seduced by a peer of the realm.” She was tempted to add that she hadn’t been entirely surprised since he was really a peer, but she heeded the warning in the set of his jaw and held the retort. She had tweaked him far enough.

  “Seduced!” Giles fired a sidelong glance of disbelief at her. “You started it.”

  “I most certainly did not!” She snapped, feeling color flood her cheeks. Had she? Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember how it had started, only that it had felt wonderful until the viscount had barged in and taken them by surprise. Her bottom and ankle were both still slightly tender from the fall.

  Giles was insistent. “Regardless, we must have a pact that such a thing cannot happen again.”

  “Didn’t you like it? I thought you did.” Cate pouted innocently and stared out across the landscape, deliberately avoiding his gaze. The traffic was picking up now and the pennants flying from the top of canopies in the distance signaled they were nearing Staines. The bittersweet novelty of riding with Giles and looking the part of a fashionable lady, all the while sparring with the man beside her, was coming to a close.

  Giles must have sensed the end was near as well. Desperation tinged the edges of his voice. “Look, we have a deuced awkward situation between us. It seems that for both our sakes we must attempt to be allies until the situation can be resolved. To speak plainly, I cannot leave you to your own devices, so we must be seen socially and appear to be on good terms, as one would expect of relatives.”

  Cate looked about her at the nearby carriages on the road and noticed other women had their parasols up. Casually, she reached for her parasol and flicked it up. With a wideeyed stare that would have done the most vacuous of debutantes proud, Cate said, “I’m sorry, I thought you said something about `for both of our sakes.’ I’ve yet to hear what I get out of this. It sounds like my good behavior is important only as far your benefits”

  “As long as you behave, you get to stay” Giles bit out as he steered the curricle under the shade of a tree near the fairgrounds. Others from the house party were parking their conveyances nearby and dismounting.

  “Hah! That’s as toothless as threats come, Giles Moncrief. You wouldn’t dare to throw me out” Cate laughed.

  “Try me.”

  Cate laughed again, knowing she hadn’t dared to go any farther. She was smart enough to know when the game was over, at least for now. “Alright, truce. We’ll behave as you suggest. I agree, it is the clearest way to seeing our needs met”

  “Thank you” Giles tossed his reins to the waiting tiger and leapt down. “Wait there, I’ll help you out” He came around to her side, and Cate furled her parasol. She smiled down at him with what she hoped was cousinly affection, although she privately thrilled to the feel of his strong hands about her waist as he lifted her down. He settled her on the ground and she was aware he kept his hands on her waist a bit longer than necessary, under the guise of allowing her a chance to adjust her skirts.

  She smiled at him, sensing that a certain level of levity had returned to their banter. Her lips lifted in a teasing lilt, but the laughing words she’d thought to toss back at him died on her lips. Over Giles’s shoulder Lady FoxHaughton was approaching, and Cate knew enough about women of any station to know she wasn’t pleased at finding her man in the arms of another.

  I f the si
tuation with his newly minted `cousin Cate’ was deuced awkward, the ensuing scene with Lady FoxHaughton promised to be something else entirely. In this case, deuced awkward didn’t even begin to cover it. Giles stepped back from Cate and released his grip on her slender waist. For a man who prided himself on avoiding such unpleasant entanglements, he’d done a poor job of it over the last eighteen hours.

  Candice Wetherby, the Lady FoxHaughton, swept forward regally and planted herself on Giles’s right side with a proprietary air.

  “Spelthorne, there you are. I knew you’d be bringing up the back, dedicated as you are to seeing to your guests’ comforts first.” As always, she was attired impeccably from the excellent cut of her apple-green muslin walking dress to the tips of her extravagant leather half boots, dyed to match the gown.

  Usually Giles admired her modish appearance, but the sight of her stylish perfection did not stir the requisite appreciation within him. Today she looked like a beautifully dressed shell against the backdrop of the agitated yet animated conversation he’d held with Cate on the drive.

  Of course the idea that she was a shell wasn’t true. She was a leading political hostess and intelligent in her own right. It was those qualities along with her sense of style that had originally brought her to his attention. Lady FoxHaughton was not a vacuous shell of a woman, and he’d do well to remember it.

  “Lady Cate is it?” The glint in her sharp hazel eyes warned she was sharpening her claws and her tongue. All her attention was riveted on his dubious guest. “We did not get to converse in the hall before departing. Tell me how you’ve come to know Spelthorne”

  It took all of Giles’s self control not to leap into the conversation and answer on Cate’s behalf. But he realized to do so would put Candice on the scent more surely than anything else he could devise.

  Cate did not disappoint. She looked Lady FoxHaughton in the eye and smiled conversationally. “I am Lady Cate Winthrop. My carriage broke down so I did not arrive until very late last evening.”

  Giles watched Candice take in the information and process it behind shrewd, knowing eyes. “How terrible for you, my dear,” Candice sympathized, but Giles wasn’t fooled for a moment. “Winthrop you say? That would be Spelthorne’s mother’s name”

  He had wanted to avoid this. Candice had practically memorized DeBrett’s peerage right down to the most minor of baronets. He did not doubt she’d paid special attention to the Spelthorne entry.

  She tapped a long gloved finger against her chin thoughtfully. “So you must be a cousin of sorts?”

  “Yes,” Cate offered.

  “Yes? Is that all?” Candice pressed much to Giles’s dislike. “There are all sorts of cousins-first cousins, second cousins, kissing cousins.” She laughed at her little joke, but Giles heard the ice beneath it.

  What did she know? He regretted putting her room so close to his own chambers. She was three doors down from him. It was not entirely out of the realm of possibility that she’d heard or seen Cate walk down the hall last night. However, that assumption could also be putting the cart before the proverbial horse. She might not have seen anything more than him helping Cate down from the curricle and his indiscretion there, slight as it was.

  He was saved from answering by the timely intervention of Alain and Cecile, who fairly swooped down on them, irrevocably disrupting the conversation.

  “Giles, I want to find Cecile a nice, docile mare. You must come and tell me who the best horse sellers are,” Alain said congenially with a wide grin that implied he knew exactly what he had done.

  “Spelthorne, go on with your friend,” Candice waved her hand magnanimously. “It will give me a chance to get to know your cousin better.”

  Giles blanched. He had not expected this turn of events. Cecile saved him with a Gallic pout. “Oh, I was so hoping Lady Cate would help me select some lace from the vendors” She turned exclusively to Cate. “I’ve been admiring the lace fall on your sleeves, and I thought you could offer suggestions.”

  “I would be delighted.” Cate crooked her arm through Cecile’s and began chattering at once, pausing after she’d walked a few yards to look over her shoulder as an afterthought and say, “Perhaps another time, Lady FoxHaughton?”

  Giles breathed easier knowing Cate was safely ensconced within Isabella and Cecile’s protection. They wouldn’t let Candice within fifty yards of her. Despising Candice as they did, the two of them enjoyed thwarting her efforts on any level. It would be a great relief to know Cate was with them as long as Tristan hadn’t tipped off her identity to Isabella.

  “What do you see in her?” Alain asked as they moved off to view the horse stalls.

  “She has a somewhat substantiated claim to Spelthorne Abbey,” Giles said. “I’d rather keep her close than let her alone to sow trouble” His eyes followed the women at the vending stalls in the distance.

  “No. Not her. I meant Lady FoxHaughton. None of us can stand her. Does she think you’ll propose? She acts as if it’s fait accompli.”

  “She and I have an understanding of convenience. After all, I’m not likely to find another hostess with her skills and entree. It’s a very practical arrangement. If she expects more, she’ll be disappointed, but I doubt she does. She’s a practical woman who understands the world.”

  Alain snorted. “There’s no arguing that, Giles. She understands the world well enough to know how much she can accomplish for herself and how much she needs a man to do the rest. Lady FoxHaughton is notoriously ambitious and knows exactly what an upstanding peer of your caliber can do for her political ambitions. She wants to be the wife of a prime minister.”

  Giles thrust his hands deep in his trouser pockets as they sauntered. “Then she’ll be doubly disappointed in me. On no front will I be able to please her.”

  “Are you going to tell her about our Lady Cate?”

  It was Giles’s turn to snort in disbelief. “What do you think?”

  “Right-o then,” Alain said somewhat awkwardly. “I wouldn’t tell her either.”

  Their arrival at the long length of rope stalls provided an end to their conversation. A sorrel mare of medium proportions whickered, drawing their attention. Alain went to it and lay a soothing hand on her long face, crooning soft words as he gave the horse a cursory once-over look.

  “Just the sort of horse I was hoping to find for Cecile. She’s game enough to learn to ride but I think we all terrify her with our big horses and hedge jumping.” Alain hunkered down to look at the horse’s legs, running an expert hand over the fetlocks, testing for damaged tendons.

  The mare looked promising, and they told the owner they’d be back after they’d looked over the rest of the stock.

  It was half past one when they rejoined the group from the house party, congregating under the shady boughs of a spreading oak. Giles’s servants had arrived with picnic supplies and erected a large white canopy and laid out a cold collation for his guests, complete with ice cold lemonade for the ladies and ale for the men. Everyone was in good spirits from the food and morning well spent among the excitement of a country fair.

  He and Alain easily spotted Tristan and the ladies and went to join them. Cate was chatting effortlessly with Cecile and Isabella as Giles came up beside her.

  “I see you found some lace” Giles nodded to the brown paper-wrapped package in Cecile’s basket.

  “Yes. I found the perfect trim.” Cecile’s sherry eyes danced with mischief. “I also found the perfect length of ribbon for Cate’s hair but she refused to purchase it. I think you could persuade her, Giles. It would be the ideal souvenir for your cousin so she would remember her day at our little fair.”

  Giles reprimanded himself inwardly. Of all the things to forget! He’d not remembered she would need some walking around money. A lady of even modest station would have a few guineas in her reticule for such small purchases. Outwardly he smiled and gave a small bow to Cecile. “After luncheon I am yours to command. We shall go to the ribbon vendor
s and then on to look at the mares Alain thought would be suitable for you.”

  “Spelthorne, darling, I’ve heard the most delectable bit of news” Candice sailed up and inserted herself into the group, making sure she wedged between he and Cate. Giles felt instantly wary.

  When she was certain she commanded everyone’s attention, she continued, “There’s to be races today. Some of the horse sellers are eager to show off the quality of the horse flesh” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I know we can’t expect the quality of the thoroughbreds we’re used to watching at Epsom or Newmarket, but still the thought of races adds some excitement to the day.” Candice turned to Cate. “Especially some excitement for you.”

  Giles saw a dangerous spark light Cate’s green eyes. “Why would that be, Lady FoxHaughton?” Her innocent tone boded ill for Candice. He wondered if Candice was aware of the pot she stirred.

  The slight jerk of Candice’s head indicated she was taken back by the directness of Cate’s question, but she only hesitated for a moment. Her tone was pointed and left no room for misinterpretation. “Because I am sure you don’t get any such entertainments being tucked away in the remote countryside as you are.”

  The message was catty and clear, with no retort that wouldn’t be outright provoking. For an awful moment, Giles feared Cate would not exercise restraint but Isabella intervened with a well-placed comment and averted disaster.

  “Are we ready to look at ribbons? I can’t eat another bite.”

  There was no shaking Candice after that. Instead of spending the afternoon with some of her female contemporaries who had been invited to the party, Candice insinuated herself into the ranks of Giles’s friends. Technically, Giles could not fault her. She was his hostess, and it was assumed here as it was in London that they were together.

  She was putting that assumption on full display today, Giles noted grimly as she doggedly clung to his right arm, leaving Cate to become uncomfortably aware of the odd number of women to men in their little group. But Candice’s petty victory was short-lived. Giles smiled to see that Cate refused to be intimidated by such maneuvering. His grin widened when Tristan deftly moved in to offer his free arm to Cate, who declined it with a laugh.