Not Quite A Gentleman

by Jacquie D’Alessandro

  In spite of her relief at his single status, Victoria’s brows shot up. “Love? I wouldn’t have thought spies were so… sentimental.”

  “I don’t know where you’ve gotten these notions about spies, Lady Victoria. Torrid novels, perhaps? My reason has just as much to do with logic as sentiment. Since I do not need to produce an heir nor add to the family coffers, why would I consider pledging my life to one woman unless I loved her?”

  “How very… unfashionable.”

  “In the exalted circles in which you socialize, yes, I’m certain it is. However, ‘tis quite common once one steps away from the glitter of Society. Besides, I care nothing for what’s fashionable. Never have. I would never allow the capricious rules of Society to dictate with whom I spend the rest of my life.” He shook his head. “I actually pity Colin the marital responsibilities being the heir forces upon him. I have freedoms he will never know.”

  Victoria digested his words with no small degree of surprise. She’d never before considered that a younger son wouldn’t envy the heir his title and position. Before she could give the matter full consideration, however, she noted that they were nearing the stables. Her gaze settled on the structure he’d built alongside the stables for his animals. And her eyes widened.

  A pair of ducks flapped through the open door, then waddled quickly toward them. They were followed by a cow, an enormous pig, and a goat-a goat that had what appeared to be pigeon perched on its back. The entire group broke into a trot. Victoria halted and stared. Dr. Oliver kept walking, then looked over his shoulder and laughed.

  “I wish you could see your face, Lady Victoria. Your expression is priceless.”

  “It looks as if they’re about to attack you.”

  “Not at all. They’re simply saying good morning-enthusiastically, as I am the one who feeds them.”

  Victoria remained exactly where she was, preferring to observe from a distance and cuddle Boots. She watched in amazement as Dr. Oliver was “greeted” by the group of animals. The ducks quacked noisily and pecked at his boots, while the pig rubbed against his legs much like a cat. The cow let out a plaintive moooooo, then swiped Dr. Oliver’s hand with a huge tongue, causing Victoria to wrinkle her nose. The goat gently prodded Dr. Oliver’s backside toward the pen, while the bird seated on the goat’s back, which Victoria realized was indeed an enormously fat pigeon, cooed and ruffled its feathers.

  Dr. Oliver patted them, chatting as if they were children rather than beasts-beasts, who by the ripe scent wafting toward her, were all in dire need of a bath.

  “Come along,” he said to the group, leading them back toward Victoria. “Allow me to introduce you to Lady Victoria-”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Victoria said hastily, backing up and warily eyeing the goat, who was showing a great deal of interest in the lace ruffles adorning her wrists.

  Dr. Oliver halted and, damnation, she could see he was wholly amused at her expense. “After your impressive performance last evening, I hadn’t thought you a coward, Lady Victoria.”

  She raised her chin and, due to the gamey odor in the air, breathed in through her mouth. “I am not a coward. I am simply not fond of animals that… outweigh me. And smell… peculiar.” She lifted Boots up a bit. “I’m simply more of a cat person than a goat person.”

  “Are you fond of dogs?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Excellent, as you are about to meet B.C.”

  “Who is-eeeeyiiiii!” Victoria stumbled forward when she was firmly nudged right in the center of her buttocks. After regaining her footing, she whirled around and found herself facing the most massive dog she had ever seen. Light brown, with darker markings and a black, jowly muzzle, the monster stood regally, observing her through wide-set, dark brown eyes that bore an alert but hopefully kind expression. The top of the giant’s head reached her chest. She forced herself to remain perfectly still while the beast raised his head to sniff the air, his nose quivering.

  “Lady Victoria, may I introduce B.C.”

  “Wh-What does B.C. stand for?” she asked, guessing that the B was for either “behemoth” or “buttocks.”

  “Boot chewer. Consider yourself forewarned, although I must say it is his only bad habit.”

  “D-Delighted,” she murmured, slowly backing up several steps, alarmed when B.C. kept pace with her. She hit something solid and stopped. Large hands clasped her upper arms from behind and she realized that the something solid she’d hit was Dr. Oliver.

  “I thought you said you liked dogs,” came his amusement-laced voice directly next to her ear.

  Warmth from his hands eased down her arms, a stunning contrast to the tingling sensation his rich, deep voice so close to her ear invoked. Her shoulder blades brushed against his chest and she had to lock her knees to keep from leaning back fully into him.

  “I do like dogs,” she said, her gaze locked on the massive beast in front of her. “But that is not a dog. That is more like a small… bear.”

  He chuckled, his warm breath brushing over her neck, awakening sensitive nerve endings on her bare skin. He released her, then moved to stand beside her. Although he no longer touched her, the heated imprint of his hands lingered, and she gave thanks that she still held Boots, lest she brush her fingers over the warm spot where he’d held her. B.C. immediately trotted to his master, his tail wagging.

  After patting the dog’s massive head, Dr. Oliver said, “Let’s do this properly, shall we, boy? Sit.” B.C.‘s bottom instantly hit the grass. “Shake.” The dog raised a forepaw the size of a plate. “He wishes to formally make your acquaintance.”

  Victoria eyed the dog suspiciously. “He’s gentle?”

  “Like a lamb.”

  “Sadly I, um, have no experience with lambs to know if they’re gentle or not. Oh, they sound gentle, but for all I know, they might be snarling, snapping beasts-”

  “B.C. is extremely gentle.”

  “He looks as if he could eat my torso for an hors d’oeuvre. Tell me, are all your animals so very large? Have you nothing smaller?”

  His lips twitched. “Not in a dog I’m afraid.”

  Determined to wipe the amusement from that grinning mouth, Victoria swallowed her trepidation, then extended her hand to shake the proffered paw. After she released the massive paw, B.C. lowered it to the ground, leaving her hand perfectly intact. In truth, he was a handsome animal and seemed friendly enough-a bit too friendly, based on the buttocks bump he’d treated her to-but his sheer size rendered him intimidating.

  Another pungent whiff of barnyard beast roused her from her frozen position. Deciding she’d gained enough information for one morning, she slowly sidestepped toward the stables, her wary gaze fixed on Dr. Oliver’s herd. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go for my ride.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something, Lady Victoria?”

  Good Lord, that goat was staring at her again. She quickened her pace. “Er, I don’t believe so.” To her dismay, Dr. Oliver, his handsome face creased with a wicked grin, started toward her. As if that weren’t alarming enough, his pungent herd promptly fell into step behind him.

  “My Boots,” he said.

  Her gaze flicked down to his scuffed footwear. “They’re… very fine. Need a bit of polish, but-”

  “I meant my cat, Lady Victoria.” He continued moving toward her, his animals behind him-except the cow, who’d paused to munch on a bit of grass.

  “Your ‘Boots’,” she said, coming to a reluctant halt and feeling foolish. She looked down at the sleeping kitten, curled so sweetly in the crook of her arm, and was swamped with a feeling of unreasonable, ridiculous possessiveness.

  Dr. Oliver stopped directly in front of her. He shot her a look of complete understanding. “Wriggle their way right into your heart, do they not?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He reached out and she carefully set the kitten in his hands. Her fingers brushed his, jolting her pulse in the most ridiculous way. Once assured t
hat Boots was securely transferred, she snatched her hands away. He tucked the tiny animal against his chest then nodded toward the stables. “Shall we?”

  “Shall we what?”

  “Go for a ride, of course. I need to feed the animals, but I can do that while Hopkins saddles our horses.”

  “I don’t recall extending an invitation for you to join me, Dr. Oliver.”

  “An accidental oversight, I’m sure.”

  “Actually, no. I would prefer to ride alone.”

  “How unfortunate, as I will be joining you.”

  “I fear that is impossible, as I am without my chaperone.”

  He waved her words aside. “It is not as if we will be in an enclosed carriage or confined area, Lady Victoria. We shall be outside, each riding our own horse, for all the world to see, should anyone care to-perfectly respectable behavior here in Cornwall. Now, tell me,” he continued in a conversational tone, “have you reconsidered returning my note to me?”

  “I told you my terms last night. Those terms have not changed. Have you reached a decision regarding my proposition?”

  “I gave you my decision last night, Lady Victoria.”

  “And you’ll not reconsider?”

  He shook his head then grinned. “I’d prefer to wait until you take off your clothes.”

  Victoria pressed her lips together and willed away the heat prickling her face. “If you’ll excuse me…” She made to move around him, but he stepped to block her progress.

  “Let us not argue,” he said. “It’s a lovely morning for a ride. I’ll play the charming host and show you a path that leads down to the beach.”

  “Charming?” She uttered a sound dripping with disbelief. “No, thank you.”

  “I’m afraid you have no choice, Lady Victoria. Your father instructed me to protect you. Since you won’t give me the note so as to determine precisely what his concerns are, you leave me with no option but to follow you about day and night. From sunup to sundown. Every minute of the day, from when you awake…” He moved a step closer to her and smiled. “… until you slip between the sheets at night.”

  Seven

  Today’s Modem Woman should apply the simple rules of fishing to catching her gentleman. First, bait the hook with a tempting morsel, such as a low-cut gown. Then cast the lure in the form of flirtatious conversation and suggestive looks. Reel in the prey with “accidental” brushings of her body against his, then drag him onto the shore and leave him gasping for breath with a slow, deep, sensual kiss.

  A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

  Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

  by Charles Brightmore

  Nathan looked at the blush spreading riotous color on Lady Victoria’s creamy smooth complexion and forced himself not to reach out and touch that bewitching color. Her blue eyes snapped with outrage and she all but bristled at his improper comment. Indeed, she resembled a firework about to explode.

  “If that arrangement is not suitable to you, my lady, you need only to give me my note. Otherwise I fear I shall have to stick to you like green to lettuce. Like yellow to daffodil. Like red to tomato. Like-”

  “I quite understand your meaning.” She pressed her lips together and he found himself staring at her mouth, anticipating her releasing the pressure so he could watch it resume its plump fullness. “Clearly you think that by making a pest of yourself-not a difficult feat, by the way-I will find your constant company so odious, I will gladly hand over the note.”

  “That is my fondest wish, yes.”

  “Then you’ve underestimated me and my determination.”

  “On the contrary, I can see how stubborn you are.”

  “There is a difference between determined and stubborn.”

  “I’m sure you think there is. And I’d be delighted to hear your theory on the subject during our ride.” He raised his brows. “I should think you’d want me to go with you so as to ensure that I’m not searching your bedchamber in your absence.” He allowed his gaze to wander down her form, then met her eyes and slowly grinned. “Unless you fear that I’ll find the note on your person.”

  She raised her chin in that obstinate, haughty, prim, look-down-her-nose fashion that for some idiotic reason he found highly arousing. “Certainly not.”

  “Excellent. Then it is settled. Follow me.” He walked toward the stables, and she fell into step alongside him. Watching her from the corner of his eye, he suppressed a grin at the furtive glances she threw over her shoulder at his animals who followed directly behind them.

  They entered the stables and he called out, “Hopkins, are you about?”

  “Right here,” came a muffled voice. The first stall door on the left swung open and a rugged man with a swatch of fiery red hair and a matching beard shouldered his way through the opening carrying a large pail in each hand. “‘Mornin’, m’lady, Dr. Nathan.” He held up the buckets. “Just about to fill yer brood’s troughs. The hens left ye a gift of three fat eggs.”

  Nathan smiled. “Thank you, Hopkins. Bring them up to the kitchen and have Cook prepare them for you.”

  “Thank ye.” He shot a narrow-eyed look at the goat, pig, cow, and ducks who hovered in the doorway. “Out with the lot of ye. Yer grub is comin‘.” He looked at Nathan. “Will ye be needin’ horses saddled, Dr. Nathan?”

  “If you’ll feed the animals, I’ll take care of the saddling for Lady Victoria and myself.”

  Hopkins jerked his head in a nod, then headed outside, followed closely by the herd. As he disappeared from sight, his voice drifted back into the stable. “Git yer bloody snout out o‘ my arse, ye damn impatient beast.”

  Pretending he didn’t hear a thing, Nathan said, “Just let me settle Boots.” He set the sleeping kitten in the first stall then latched the door. When he returned, he said to Lady Victoria, “Are you a proficient rider?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I think Honey will be a fine mount for you. She’s spirited, but gentle.” He led the way to the last stall, where the mare, named for her pale golden mane, nickered at the sight of him.

  “She’s beautiful,” Lady Victoria exclaimed when he led the mare from the stall. He watched her stroke the horse’s neck and velvety nose.

  While Lady Victoria and Honey became acquainted, he outfitted the mare with a sidesaddle, listening to Lady Victoria croon soft, complimentary words to the horse. He then saddled Midnight, a pure black gelding, for himself.

  After seeing Lady Victoria safely settled in the saddle, he swung up onto Midnight and led the way out of the stables. Curious as to whether she truly was a proficient rider, he struck out at a brisk trot toward the huge copse of elms at the far edge of the lawns, purposely avoiding the other direction, where the haunting memories from that night three years ago waited to ambush him. When they neared the trees, he slowed their pace, wandering slowly along the wood-scented trails dappled with pale skeins of early morning sunlight. Birds twittered, leaves scrunched underfoot, and a soft sea-scented breeze filled his head. Memories assaulted him from all directions. He’d ridden and walked and run these paths countless times during his youth, and even after such a long absence it now felt as if he’d never left.

  He wasn’t certain how long they rode in silence before she said, “The grounds here are lovely. Do you visit Creston Manor often?”

  He wondered if something had shown on his face to prompt her question. “I haven’t been here in three years.”

  Her brows shot upward. “You mean since that last mission?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why haven’t you returned?”

  He turned and faced her directly. The sunlight glimmered on the dark brown curls framing her face, coaxing cinnamon highlights. Her dark green riding costume complemented her creamy complexion. And her lips… bloody hell, her lips looked like they were fashioned from plump, moist, succulent peaches. Perhaps going riding with her hadn’t been a good idea after all-

  “Lord Nathan? Why haven’t you re
turned?”

  Bloody hell, he’d completely dropped the conversational ball. He quickly debated telling her the truth, then decided, why the hell not? It’s not as if her opinion of him mattered. “After the mission failed, I had a falling out with my father and brother. It was best for all concerned that I left.”

  Her gaze searched his, then she said softly, “That must have been very difficult for you.”

  Whatever he’d expected her to say, it hadn’t been that. He’d expected her to pry, to look scornful, to be curious. Instead she offered him sympathy, as if she understood such estrangement. He found it confusing. And unsettling. Damn it, he didn’t want to discover anything nice about her.

  “I imagine that being here again brings back many memories,” she said, again disarming him with her uncanny ability to understand precisely what he was thinking.

  “Yes. This trail we’re on right now was always my favorite. It splits about a quarter mile ahead, with the right fork heading toward the beach and the left to a small private lake at the far edge of the property.”

  “So this particular spot is filled with happy memories?”

  He nodded slowly, a smile tugging at his lips as some of those memories slipped through his mind. “Yes, it is.”

  “Would you care to share some with me?”

  He shot her a look. Her expression revealed only interest. “You realize that if we converse, we run the risk of arguing.”

  “We won’t converse,” she said with a smile. “You can talk, and I shall simply listen to your stories of your misspent youth. So tell me, why was this spot your favorite?”

  He hesitated several seconds, allowing the atmosphere of the surroundings to infuse him with nostalgia. The twittering birds, the soaring trees bathing them in dancing ribbons of shade and gilded sunshine. The scent of fresh earth, clean air, and always, that underlying tang of the sea that made him think of home. “My two favorite spots on the estate were the lake and the sea. Every day, no matter what the weather, I walked this path, debating the entire way which body of water I would visit that day.” He laughed in remembrance. “The decision was agonizing.”