by Carrie Brock
Blake returned the open journal to the stack before him. “You are mistaken, I assure you. If you had not already proven your worth by your actions over the past few years we would not be sitting here now discussing your future in my employ. You would most assuredly be packing your belongings.”
“I hope I can continue t’be of value t'ye, sir.”
Blake kept leafing through the journal pages. “That is up to you.”
“I'd be askin’ a favor of ye, sir, of sorts . . . ”
Glancing up, Blake saw crimson stained the man's face. Casually, he returned his gaze to the pages before him. “You may ask.”
Samuel swallowed audibly. “M'daughter, sir. She's just turned fourteen—and she's a gem in the kitchen.”
Blake rubbed his chin absently, to give the impression the books thoroughly absorbed his attention. “Chester is continuing with interviews for potential staff members in the morning. Have your girl come around at ten o'clock. I will inform Chester to expect her.”
“Thank ye, sir. She's a good girl, an’ bright. The wife an’ me, we teaches all the little ‘uns to read and write.”
“That is very wise, Samuel. I see here that each farm is tallied separately. Why is this farm such a high producer?”
Samuel stood and came around the desk, the last vestiges of misgiving gone. Blake stifled a smile of satisfaction. He rather liked playing lord of the manor. Perhaps there was more of his father in him than he had thought.
. . .
Nicki eased her bedroom window open and slipped out. Maneuvering through the tree limbs with experienced ease, she dropped to the ground moments later. Damp leaves and twigs crunched beneath her feet as she hurried through the darkness, around the edge of the house to the graveled pathway that lead to the cobbled courtyard and the stables.
Immediately upon entering the long building that housed the Langley champion Thoroughbred horses, the familiar, comforting scents of straw and leather surrounded her, enveloped her. A lantern hung on a long nail outside the entrance to one of the stalls. Its light cast shadows on the dark openings of the other compartments. Nicki retrieved an apron from a peg on the wall outside the feed room and donned it as she hurried to reach the lighted stall.
Just as she knew he would be, Andrew, the senior stable hand, knelt in the straw next to Aphrodite, his dark head bent close to the mare's. Nicki heard the soothing murmur of his deep voice and paused, peering over the bottom section of the half-door.
“I knew ye'd come,” said Andrew without looking up.
“Of course I came. How is she?”
He stroked the mare's sleek white neck tenderly, then stood. “She's doin’ just grand, m'lady. She'll give us a fine little beauty afore mornin’.”
Nicki released the latch and slipped inside. Aphrodite nickered softly at her approach. “There's my girl.”
As she dropped to her knees in the straw, the mare lifted her head and moved to rest it on Nicki's pooled skirts. With a catch in her throat, Nicki placed her hand on the delicately arched neck. Aphrodite was their prize mare, and Nicki's favorite. Two years before, the mare had given them Zeus, a coal-black colt who lived up to his exalted name to become king of the stables.
Andrew leaned back in the corner of the stall, arms crossed over his narrow chest. His weathered face was like a saddle that had never been oiled or cared for. Nicki met his obsidian gaze. “Thank you for sending the message.”
He acknowledged her words with the briefest movement of his head. “It calms ‘er ta ‘ave ye ‘ere.”
Nicki returned her attention to Aphrodite. Angelica would most likely swoon dead away if she knew Andrew summoned Nicki for every birth in the stables, but the reward far outweighed the risk. She agreed with Andrew. Her presence seemed to relax the horses and make the birthing process easier. Would she be here in the spring for the birth of Diana's, another mare's, first foal? Nicki banished the thought swiftly. Aphrodite needed her now. She dared not think of the future.
Just then a sharp crack sounded in the stall next to them. Nicki started before she realized the cause of the noise. “Stop that this instant, Hera! If you would ever leave off biting the stallions perhaps you could have some of this attention!”
An answering whinny from behind the wall brought a giggle from Nicki and a quick grunt of amusement from Andrew. “Minx,” he grumbled tenderly.
“Does she still chase Achilles?”
“Sure ‘n she cornered ‘im down by the creek this mornin’. He ain't been no good to none o’ the others since she's been pesterin’ ‘im.”
Nicki ran her hand along Aphrodite's smooth white neck. “I think she likes him.”
“Well ‘e don’ like ‘er none, long as all she does is trap ‘im so's she ken take a bite out o’ ‘im.”
Nicki laughed. “Maybe she wants him to stop being such a gentleman.”
“Mayhap she does. If she keeps up ‘er tormentin’, she'll git ‘er wish.”
A sudden realization struck Nicki—perhaps her own situation resembled Hera's a little too closely. She had thought dinner would be a pleasant affair without the earl, but she could not help but compare the rather mundane game of whist to the boisterous fun of the evening before in the music room.
If she had not received Andrew's message, she might now be climbing up the side of Rosewood to the earl's bedchamber to hand him a royal dressing down for avoiding her. She would also have demanded that he release her from the engagement if he was as uninterested as he seemed. Reflecting on the speech she had practiced in her mind at dinner, she thought it probably best she was here in the stables. Blake Dylan did not seem the type to be much affected by irate females, and Nicki preferred to see the results when she roasted a person.
Deuce take it, why could she not face the truth? She missed the devil. And it hurt that he did not seem to feel the same. It hurt deeply. Throughout the evening, Teddy had watched her with concern evident in his gaze. Let him watch. His solution was preposterous and Nicki refused to consider it. Run away, indeed. She had never run from anything in her life—except perhaps the engagement to the Duke of Melton. But that was different.
Nicki paused at that thought and attempted to rationalize how it was different. Of course, the engagement to Blake had been of her own doing, in a roundabout way. The Earl of Diamond was young and handsome, while the Duke was a lecherous old man of thirty-five. Nicki nibbled at her lower lip. But Teddy was at least thirty and he did not seem so old. The earl was almost Teddy's age. So why was he not a lecherous old man?
Perhaps she should take a few lessons from Hera. A well-placed bite here and there and she would be free of both men, and any other that might try to interrupt her comfortable existence.
But what about Teddy's easy laughter? And Blake's kiss that wound insidiously throughout her inner soul until she wanted nothing more than to be his completely. The mare's behavior rebuffed kindness. As a result she had to chase after Achilles and suffer his attempts to avoid her. That did not seem to be such a good plan after all.
Aphrodite made a groaning sound and Nicki leaned closer and murmured softly in an attempt to calm the mare. “Soon, my love. It will not be long now.”
. . .
“She's a fine un, m'lady. Jus’ look at ‘er.”
Tears blurred Nicki's vision. She wiped them impatiently away. The foal stood on impossibly long legs that twitched and trembled, and threatened to buckle at any moment. “She certainly is, Andrew. I shall call her Calypso because she is the color of the foam on the sea.”
Aphrodite craned her neck about to tenderly nuzzle the snow white filly.
“That she is, m'lady.”
Nicki backed slowly to the door and exited the stall. She closed the gate carefully not to startle the new arrival. Weariness settled over her, but could not dampen her joy at witnessing the miracle of another life coming into the world. Andrew glanced over the gate one last time before turning to her.
With a deep sigh, Nicki reached out to give
his rough hand a quick squeeze. “I had best return to the house before I am missed. This birth was a long one.”
Andrew nodded solemnly. “’Tis well past midnight.”
“Good night, Andrew, and please send for me at once if anything untoward should happen.”
“I plan to ‘ave m’ boy Tamm set up wit’ ‘er. I'll get some rest, then return first thing in the morn.”
Nicki nodded, anxious to get to bed. A wooden stand near the door held a bucket filled with water. She removed the apron that partially protected her skirts during the birth and hung it on a nearby nail. Andrew would see it was cleaned and returned to its place for the next event.
The icy water chilled her to the bone and encouraged her to wash quickly. On a shelf above the washstand rough squares of linen were folded and stacked neatly. She took one and dried her hands.
As she slipped through the stable doors, the night surrounded her in a shroud of nebulous darkness. Though heavy clouds obliterated the stars that had shone earlier in the evening, Nicki could have found her way back to the house blindfolded. The lamp she had left burning on the table next to the window in her room worked to guide her up the trunk of the tree and into the upper branches.
Anxious to reach the warmth of her bed, Nicki inched deftly along the limb to the roof overhang.
“I see you shared my opinion that it is a glorious evening for a climb.”
Nicki gasped, simultaneously losing her footing and nearly falling before a strong hand snaked out to steady her. “Damnation!” erupted from her lips in a rush.
With a wide grin, Blake drew her against him, lifting her until her feet left the branch. “Such language!” He backed toward the window with an ease that put her efforts to shame. “I think I shall have to take serious measures to curb your tongue once we are wed.” Blake held her clasped firmly against the hard planes of his body.
“So there is still to be a wedding? I had thought perhaps you would return to America after the fiasco this afternoon.”
He quirked one dark brow questioningly. “And leave you behind? The thought is ludicrous. I was extremely touched by your concern.”
“How reassuring!” She caught her breath as Blake turned and perched her on the windowsill. She had to cling to the wood to keep from sliding off. He remained near, his body positioned intimately between her spread knees. “Perhaps you believe me to be ludicrous as well to entertain such a notion.”
“Did you miss me so much, darling Nicole?” He grinned. “Is that the reason for your irritation?”
Tingling heat crept up her neck, and she stifled the unladylike desire to give him a good sound smack. “I am not irritated. It is just that you did not come in the morning, and then you missed dinner tonight. I hardly expected you to appear outside my window in the early hours of the morning.”
“I did not arrive in the early hours of the morning.” His warm breath turned to mist in the space between their bodies and drew Nicki's gaze to his mouth. “I have been sitting here since well before midnight awaiting your return from wherever it is you disappeared to.”
She scooted back slightly for better balance and found she could release her hold on the sill, but the earl still remained too close for her own comfort. “If I had known you planned to make an appearance, I should have made myself available to you. But I hardly took you for the sort fond of tree climbing.”
Blake enfolded her hands in his, somehow slipping closer though Nicki had not noticed him take a step. “Your hands are frozen. Where have you been?”
Their hands, intertwined against the dark green of her threadbare wool skirts, held Nicki's attention while she mentally mulled over several possible stories. With a sigh of defeat, she raised her gaze to his face. “You will think worse of me than you already do, but I cannot lie to you.”
“Oh?” The grip of his fingers stiffened slightly.
“Aphrodite just gave birth to a beautiful daughter and I have called her Calypso.”
His skeptical expression told Nicki he thought her claim to honesty most certainly a lie. “Might I be so bold as to ask who Aphrodite is and why she is willing to allow you to name her child such an odd name?”
“Aphrodite is one of our prize mares, and Calypso is a breathtaking filly of the purest white—just like a fresh snowfall. She will be a champion like her mother.”
Blake's gaze narrowed. “Do you mean to tell me that you have just witnessed the birth of a horse?”
She might have known he would react badly, but she forged on, anxious to get the entire truth said and behind her. “I make certain I am with all the mares when they give birth, to calm them.”
“I see.” His brows drew together in apparent exasperation. “Your parents must be overjoyed with that habit.”
“No one knows but the trainer, and his sons—and now you. I warned you that you might not like the idea. If Angelica knew she would chain me to the bed post.”
Blake's grin returned, broader this time. “An intriguing idea. Perhaps I shall employ that tactic as well—once we are wed, of course.”
“You, sir, are much too fresh.”
He released her hands to place one palm over his heart. “Forgive me, Lady Nicole, I am severely backward when it comes to conversing appropriately whilst standing on a tree branch.”
“Why did you come here? You could have come to tea tomorrow.”
Blake chuckled softly. “I was in the midst of reviewing Chester's voluminous list of new staff members when I was overcome with the need to speak with you.”
Nicki's heart skipped a beat, then hammered in her chest. “Do you mean to say your heart told you to come here in the middle of the night?”
His amusement abruptly disappeared. “My heart has nothing to do with my decision. I merely felt some remorse for having been forced to abandon you to suffer Bartholomew's company this evening.”
“I believe remorse is an emotion one feels in one's heart, my lord.”
“Blast it, Nicole, I told you my heart was not involved in the decision!”
She folded her arms and clutched her waist with her cold hands. “You need not snap, sir. I cannot help it if I felt flattered you would act on such an impulse. Now that you have convinced me it had nothing to do with your feelings, perhaps this meeting should end. I am tired.”
Blake brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face with the back of his fingers. “I have hurt your feelings.”
“It is a failing of mine to be swept away by my emotions. I do not expect someone of your supreme self-control to understand.”
His expression turned wistful. “Such honesty. Whatever am I to do with you, Nicole? I could resist you if you were deceitful, pretending to be something you are not, but there is no pretense about you. You forge straight ahead, giving me no time to launch my defenses.”
Nicki looked away, confused by his words. “Whyever should you wish to defend yourself against me, my lord? I am no threat to you.”
A harsh bark of laughter startled her and she slipped backward. Once again, Blake quickly captured her elbow, holding fast until she steadied her perch. “You are perhaps the greatest danger I have faced in my life—more so because you do not realize the extent of your power.”
“It is very late and I am in no frame of mind to untangle riddles that make no sense. I assume you had a reason for this visit.”
The earl lifted her hand and turned it over, staring intently at her palm. Nicki squirmed uncomfortably. Her fingers were cold and the tips puckered from the icy water she had used in the stables. She had the oddest desire to jerk her hand away before he could notice.
With calculated slowness, Blake lifted her palm to his lips. Nicki gasped at the sensations that spiraled upward from the place his lips touched. She had the insane urge to slip her fingers into his thick dark hair, to draw him near. Chills that moved like a cool breeze across her skin returned some semblance of sanity to her crazed emotions and gave her the will to attempt to pull her hand away.
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Blake held her fast, raising his head slightly to look at her. “My reason for this visit? Something so simple, you see. Just to touch you, to see you, nothing more.”
Mesmerized by his mouth still poised over her hand, Nicki managed to force her voice from her throat, low and breathless. “I suppose there is no harm in that.”
He folded her fingers into her palm gently, his touch more tender than she could have imagined possible from such a powerful man. As though by magic, he slipped close and cupped the base of Nicki's jaw in his hand. Her gaze clung to his, and without meaning to, she moved her thighs together thus framing his hips intimately. A liquid heat flowed in her veins where she could have sworn she once had blood. Magic.
Tenderly, he turned her face up to his and brushed her lips lightly with his mouth. “I shall come by around nine o'clock on the morrow.”
She nodded without hesitation even as she closed her eyes and tipped her face up for his kiss.
But the earl's mouth slipped like velvet stone along her cheekbone until his breath teased her ear. “Perhaps you would be so generous as to share the company of your Calypso with me?”
At first the sound of the words were mere sensations. A delicious, sensual reaction fluttered through her until her toes curled inside her leather shoes. Then the meaning sent a thrill of pleasure singing into her heart before Nicki could attempt to stifle the foolishness.
Embarrassed at her wanton behavior, she drew back and banged the back of her head on the glass. “I would love to show you to her—or her to you, I mean—of course.”
The enigmatic smile returned and Blake backed a slight distance. “I leave you then, hopefully with pleasant dreams.”
With her hand still clenched, Nicki nodded. She hastily swung her legs around so she could slip inside. When she turned back to the window, Blake was gone.
She reached up to snap the window closed. “Why must he be so deucedly charming? How can I resist him when he behaves so—so irresistibly?”
