She slowed her horse to a walk and continued to search for Lydia. It had been a while since she'd seen her and an uneasy feeling crept over Maggie. It wasn't quite daylight yet, although it was much lighter than when they'd arrived. She had absolutely no idea where she was in the park. Maggie thought the area seemed a bit off the beaten path but she'd only been to Hyde Park twice, three times if a visit in another century counted.
Maggie's first thoughts were for Lydia's safety. She didn't want anything to happen to her. Guilt swept through Maggie. If Lydia was harmed, regardless of whose idea this outing was, it would be Maggie's fault. Lydia wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her.
Maggie wasn't confident of her own safety, either. This was downright spooky. Her horse steadily pushed forward and her earlier unease gradually turned to real fear. In the dim light surrounding trees took on strange and frightening shapes. The crackle of twigs in the faint breeze seemed somehow sinister. The occasional branch brushing her hair startled her and she jerked in the saddle, her heart in her throat.
"Don't be paranoid," she muttered softly, taking comfort in the sound of her own voice. "You don't know exactly where you are but you're still in a city park. You can't get too lost. Just chill out." She took a deep breath and continued her monologue. “Granted, this is a scary place, but think how charming it is in the daylight with all those people parading around. Don't think about muggings in Central Park or Jack the Ripper or anything like that. That's decades and decades from now. This is the original kinder and gentler place. Right?"
She glanced around as if expecting an answer and afraid she might hear one. "Stay calm. Don't get freaked out."
A faint sound in the distance caught her attention and she reined her horse to a stop. The noise from somewhere behind her grew steadily louder. It sounded like something crashing through the trees. Something big. Something nasty. Heading toward her.
"Oh, damn. Come on." She spurred her horse and they shot off in no particular direction, just away from whomever or whatever was behind her. Maggie’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. Terror lodged in her mind. She could think of nothing but escape. Her horse flew past the trees and Maggie clung to his neck tightly. The racket of her pursuer grew louder and louder until she almost felt the hot breath of a demon beast behind her. She refused to spare a single, precious moment to glance back and strained ahead, urging her horse forward. Blind, numbing fear clogged her mind at the thought of what she might see.
Without warning a hand reached out and grabbed her reins, expertly pulling her horse to a stop. Acting only on instinct, she slipped to the ground and took flight, running as fast and as hard as she could. Her blood pounded through her veins; her breath rasped through her lips. Adrenaline pumped her legs faster and faster. Branches clawed at the heavy cloak over and over like grasping hands, impeding her progress.
A hand grabbed Maggie's arm, jerking her to a halt, ripping a scream from her throat. Frantic with terror, she struck out blindly. Breaking every self-defense rule she'd ever learned, Maggie doubled up her fist and swung indiscriminately with all the power she possessed.
"Yow! Bloody hell!" an incensed but extremely familiar voice yelled.
"Adam? Oh, jeez." Shock widened Maggie's eyes and slowly she focused on Adam's grim, furious face. Her legs suddenly too weak to support her, she sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands. For a long moment she fought to get her breathing under control. Terror ebbed away and relief filled her. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Finally she uncovered her face and glared up at him.
“You scared the hell out of me." She scrambled to her feet. "I had no idea who was chasing me. I thought you were going to kill me."
Adam's eyes narrowed. He had the look of a man struggling to contain himself. How much trouble was she in?
His hands knotted into lists by his sides and he spoke through clenched teeth. "I am going to kill you."
He grabbed her arm and dragged her toward his horse standing patiently a few feet away.
She struggled against him. “Where are we going?"
"Home."
“What about my horse?" She scanned the woods around her, hoping the missing horse would provide an excuse to delay what was coming. Anything to put off facing Adam's wrath struck her as a very good idea. He tossed her up on his saddle as if she were a sack of potatoes and leapt behind her. "He shall be taken care of."
She sat flattened against him. His arm around her waist held her securely, his free hand holding the reins.
"But Lydia, I've lost her." Informing him of his missing sister, while dangerous, seemed like another good delaying tactic.
"She should be home by now." His tones were clipped and crisp.
She twisted around to face him. "But what—?"
"Miss Masterson!" Obviously any patience Adam had up to this moment had now evaporated as rapidly as the early morning mist. "We shall discuss this later. My purpose at this point is to get you home unobserved. The task will be made much easier if you will simply keep your mouth shut."
She started to speak.
"Shut up."
"Fine." She settled in for the brief ride home. Her position pinned against him would have been pleasurable at any other time, but at this moment, even though she knew according to the rules of his life she was in the wrong, anger replaced remorse. Her fighting spirit was up. She was looking forward to having it out with him.
***
Maggie marched into the library two steps ahead of Adam and pulled up short at the sight of Lydia looking anxious and more than a little chagrined.
"Are you all right?" Lydia said.
"How did you get here?" Maggie said at the same time.
Lydia nodded toward Adam. "He had a carriage and a driver."
"He got me on horseback," Maggie said wryly.
Adam closed the doors firmly behind him. "I think an explanation is in order." His voice sounded calm and controlled but his eyes flashed dangerously.
"Me, too." Maggie whirled to face him. "Go ahead, explain."
“What?"
"Explain why you chased me through the park, scaring me half to death. Explain what gave you the right to haul me back here like a bag of groceries. Explain how you knew where we were in the first place. Explain—"
"George told me."
“Damn," Maggie swore under her breath.
"George?" Lydia said. "But I paid him!"
Adam turned stormy eyes on Lydia. “But I payhim more. George knows where his loyalties lie. And it's a bloody good thing, too. Imagine my surprise when he greeted me with the news that you two had taken horses and gone God knows where. And dressed like that, no less." He spit the words out as if they were somehow distasteful.
"What's wrong with the way we're dressed?" Defiance drenched Maggie's words.
“You know full well what's wrong. Maybe there is, after all, an excuse for you, for the way you think and act." He turned to Lydia. "But what in the hell was in your mind? You know the irreparable damage this little stunt could do to your reputation. I am grateful no one was around to witness your disgraceful behavior."
“My behavior?" The anger in Lydia's eyes now mirrored her brother's. Facing off against each other, the two had never looked more alike.
"What about you? What about your behavior? It was nearly dawn and you were just getting home!"
For the first time Maggie noticed Adam's evening clothes: ruffled silk shirt, elaborately tied white cravat, black jacket. The elegant clothes, the fury in his eyes, and the stony set of his jaw created an impressive and intimidating figure.
"I had been home. You had both retired. I went out again." He sighed angrily. "My behavior is not in question here."
Adam forced himself to calm down. His initial panic and fear when he learned the women were missing gave way to relief when he found them safe, followed quickly by anger. Neither Maggie nor Lydia had any real notion of the dangers facing unescorted young women in the dim recesses of the predawn da
y.
"Since I obviously cannot trust you two alone and I am not about to play nursemaid to you every minute, I have made a decision."
He paused to let his words sink in. Maggie and Lydia exchanged anxious looks. Adam directed his next comments to his sister.
“There are far and away too many temptations in town. I can see that Maggie makes a more dangerous companion for you than any of your previous cohorts. I had hoped you'd grown out of escapades like this but I was mistaken. I am sending both of you to the country as soon as I can make arrangements."
Maggie stared in disbelief. If she left she might blow her only chance at getting home. She shook her head vehemently. "No way, pal. Not on your life. I'm staying right here."
"What?" Adam's stunned expression was almost comical. He'd apparently never faced outright defiance from a woman, any woman, before.
"I am not going either," Lydia said in the calmest voice she'd used so far.
He whirled toward her, fists clenched by his sides, eyes flashing, every line of his body tight with rage. “You will!"
Lydia returned his glare with a serene, almost amused expression. "No, I most certainly will not. This is the second time in recent weeks you have made one of your decisions regarding my life and I will no longer put up with it. Under the terms of Father's will you are my guardian and I accept that. But I am not a child and I refuse to be treated like one."
Maggie stared at the scene playing out between brother and sister, impressed at the self-assured, somewhat regal way Lydia acted. Adam, on the other hand, looked like he'd burst a blood vessel any moment. Maggie wanted to cheer Lydia on but tactfully, and probably wisely, decided to stay out of it.
"You gave me a month to find a husband. I have no intention of leaving before the allotted time. I plan on enjoying every minute of it right here." Her eyes shot daggers at him. "If at the end of that time I am not betrothed, I will retire to the country as per your threat, because I absolutely refuse to many anyone that meets your qualifications and not mine."
"You'll bloody well do as I say."
Ignoring him completely, Lydia stepped to the door, opened it, and turned back to her brother. "She's right, you know. You are a bite in the shorts."
She sailed out the door and closed it firmly behind her.
***
Lydia floated up the stairs, hoping there were no servants around to notice the self-satisfied grin she could not keep off her face. Poor, dear Adam. She'd never openly defied him. Ever. She'd never had to. Lydia always did exactly as she wished and paid whatever price came due later. Adam typically raged at her over the minor crises she created but he always protected her, too. Protection that in recent years saved her from any potential slur on her honor or good name.
Of course her escapades weren't truly terrible. She'd never been seduced, for example. Lydia preferred to think of them as larks, minor adventures. As she'd told Maggie, she didn't have the courage to totally flout convention. She liked the social whirl of the ton far too much to be forced to give it all up simply because of scandalous behavior, no matter how enjoyable such behavior might be.
She wasn't exactly sure why she'd blatantly defied Adam this morning. Usually she worked her own subtle form of manipulation on the dear man. Perhaps it was Maggie's influence. Perhaps it was just time.
Poor Adam. She had absolutely no intention of accepting an arranged marriage or making a desperate match herself in the next few weeks. Regardless of what she said in the library, she would not spend the years until she turned thirty banished to the country.
Maggie was still her best chance at getting Adam off this ridiculous marriage business. He obviously cared for the woman. She could tell by the way he turned so surly whenever he was at cross-purposes with her. He merely needed to learn how much he cared. The time had come for her to put her plan into motion. She would need help but could probably make the arrangements easily. For now, she would return to bed. Nothing exhausted her more than an early morning ride.
***
Maggie and Adam stared at the door, sharing a stunned silence, Adam's face a mask of conflicting emotions. Maggie read outrage in the angry tilt of his jaw and tension in his powerful body. But confusion was there as well, a hint around his dark, stormy eyes, a suspicion on his furrowed brow. His expression triggered a surge of compassion. Poor guy. He'd probably never faced a situation where things were totally out of his control before.
Adam turned dark, flashing eyes toward her and any feelings of sympathy vanished. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the fury rampant on his face, the controlled rage of his stance. “And as for . . ." He started toward her.
“Hold it right there." She shoved her hand in front of her and lifted her chin defiantly. “You may have the right to run your sister's life but, as far as I'm concerned, you have absolutely no right to run mine."
"As long as you are in this house you are my responsibility." Adam glared and turned abruptly. He strode to the table and poured a glass of brandy. Obviously trying to regain his self-control he downed the liquor in one swallow and splashed out a second glass.
Maggie stalked past him and poured a glass of her own. Following his lead, she, too, downed it greedily. Her eyes watered and she choked back a cough, but she refused to let him see the effects of the drink. Within moments, the warmth of the brandy spread through her and she poured another.
"You are corrupting my sister."
"What?" She slammed the glass down on the table, amber drops splattering on the polished surface. "I'll have you know this wasn't my idea."
“It wasn't?" He raised an eyebrow in an expression that clearly said he didn't believe her. "Riding astride was not your idea?"
"No." She stifled a glimmer of guilt. "Not really."
“Oh?" There went the eyebrow again. "And I suppose it wasn't your idea to wear trousers and—" He peered at her sharply and recognition washed over his face. "My good linen. You're wearing my good linen."
"Well," she said, evasion in her voice, "okay, maybe that part was my idea." Anger at his attitude sparked within her. Who did he think he was, anyway? "Ultimately, this whole thing is your fault."
"My fault." Adam gasped, looking genuinely surprised. "How in the name of all that's holy is this my fault?"
"It just is." Maggie wasn't making a whole lot of sense but she was too mad to care.
"Why is it my fault?"
"Because." Because what? Because he broke my heart? "Because you used me," she said. "You used a line on me like you've probably used on every other woman who's passed through your life."
"I did not." Righteous indignation stamped his face and accompanied his words. “Not every woman."
"What? Oh great, that makes it much better."
"I didn't mean it that way." Adam ran his hand through his hair in an anxious gesture. "You would not let me explain."
"You didn't try very hard."
"You refused to listen!"
"You should have made me listen. You're the big, macho nineteenth—century lord of the manor. You're used to everyone obeying your every whim. What's the matter? Was it a little intimidating to find a woman who didn't fall at your feet in awe of your money and your title? A woman willing to stand up to you and not take the kind of bull you dish out? Was dealing with me just too much of a challenge?"
"A challenge? What challenge? Every time I came near you, you melted in my arms. If I had wanted you in my bed you bloody well would have been there by now. But why would I want someone with absolutely no inkling of proper behavior, no apparent consideration for anyone's problems but her own, and the social manners and mouth of a guttersnipe?"
"A guttersnipe?" Maggie gasped.
A firestorm of fury swept through her, and without thinking she did what she had never done before in her life. She drew back her hand and let it fly.
Chapter Twelve
Adam caught her open hand in midair and the resounding slap reverberated through the library. The very air seemed cha
rged, shimmering with barely concealed tension and emotion.
Shocked by her actions, Maggie's eyes widened and she stared at Adam. Their gazes locked for a long, electric moment. Slowly Adam brought her hand to his lips, turned it, and kissed her palm. His eyes never left hers.
"Damn," she breathed.
"Bloody hell." He groaned and pulled her into his arms.
Their lips met and all Maggie's bottled-up emotions burst free like a swollen river reaching a weakened dike. She twined her hands in his hair and his lips crushed hers. His tongue invaded her mouth and she received it greedily, desperate for the intoxicating sensation. She wanted to devour him, wanted him to devour her in return.
His hands cupped her jeans, and he ran his fingers over the curve of her buttocks. He slipped his hands under her loose shirt, his touch searing her bare skin. She gasped at his heat and he pulled her tighter against him. Her hands slid down his neck and she fumbled with the knotted cravat at his throat, finally wrenching it away to open the neck of his shirt. Breaking the seal of their kiss, she let her lips find the sensitive skin at the base of his throat. His head fell back and he groaned at the feel of her exploring tongue. Her mouth traveled lower, desperate for the taste of him. She pushed his jacket over his shoulders and he shrugged it off, letting it fall forgotten.
Frantic with a too long buried need, she struggled with his shirt, opening it to the waist. Her fingers ran over his exposed chest and she reveled in the firmly muscled expanse and the texture of crisply matted hair beneath her fingertips.
With one quick movement, he grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She wore the odd, white corset like undergarment she had had on when she'd arrived, and he drank in the sight of the creamy flesh rising above the filmy fabric, heaving beneath. He pulled her closer and his mouth traveled the valley between her breasts. A breathless moan escaped her and she clutched his head to her chest. His tongue traced the edge of the garment and she quivered beneath his lips.
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