To Tempt A Rogue

by Adrienne Basso

  “Good night,” she whispered.

  With a final farewell kiss, Harriet slipped quietly into the other room. Everyone was sound asleep, including the nursemaid. Harriet gave a quick look upon the children, then stripped down to her chemise and curled contently in her bed, feeling safe and loved and surprisingly happy.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was chaotic in the morning and no simple task getting the children dressed and fed and ready to face another day of traveling. To obtain their cooperation, Harriet promised if the weather held they could each take a turn riding on horseback with their uncle. This promised treat of escaping the confines of the carriage held great appeal and put all three children on their best behavior.

  All the rushing and organizing left Harriet a bit frazzled and she did not listen closely to Nathaniel’s instructions. Misunderstanding his orders, she arrived too early in the inn’s yard. Their carriage had not been brought out and neither Nathaniel nor the male servants were in evidence.

  Harriet felt conspicuously exposed standing in the open yard, the bright morning sunshine beating down on her bonnet, but the children were happy to be outdoors. The girls especially seemed to enjoy the freedom of movement their male attire provided. Since there was a greater chance of getting into mischief and revealing their disguise inside the inn, Harriet decided to stay, figuring that Nathaniel was no doubt in the stable at this very moment, seeing to his mount and supervising the harnessing of the coach horses.

  “You’re it!” Gregory called out merrily. He poked his sister in the ribs and scurried behind Harriet, clutching on to her skirts.

  Jeanne Marie giggled and lunged forward, attempting to retaliate. Gregory skillfully evaded her tag, so Jeanne Marie took the easier choice and tagged Phoebe. The older girl smiled and reached for her brother. Gregory pulled away and the game began in earnest.

  Harriet allowed it to continue for a few minutes. “Enough !”

  Recognizing her tone, the children stopped. Harriet nervously touched the cap on Phoebe’s head to make certain it was secure and admonished both Jeanne Marie and Gregory to stay close by her side and away from any of the horses being brought into the yard.

  “Jane, please walk down to the stable and look for Mr. Wainwright. Inform him that we are ready to leave,” Harriet instructed the nursemaid. She knew it was partially her own over-active imagination, but Harriet felt edgy and anxious without Nathaniel. The sooner she and the children were safely settled inside the carriage, the better.

  Jane, an affable, middle-aged widow, curtseyed slightly and left on her errand. Harriet took a deep breath and gathered the children close. She glanced about the yard, relieved to see that everyone seemed focused on their own business.

  Yet Harriet still remained vigilant, her eyes darting about the yard every few minutes, alert to danger and also anxious for a glimpse of Nathaniel. Her attention however was soon caught by the figure of a man standing several yards away. She assumed he had been a guest at the inn and was waiting for either his carriage or mount to be brought around.

  Yet after five minutes Harriet knew it was not her nerves or imagination. The stranger was definitely regarding her and the children with keen interest.

  Harriet’s heartbeat quickened. The hairs on the nape of her neck prickled slightly, the classic warning sign of danger, yet she could hardly claim the man was acting in a threatening manner. She supposed it was a rather uncommon sight to find a gentlewoman and her three young children standing alone and unescorted in the yard of an inn. Perhaps the man was merely curious about them.

  As Harriet tried to calm her thrashing pulse, her gaze accidently met the stranger’s. He nodded and smiled at her in a polite manner. Harriet bit her lip to control her gasp. An over-reaction to such an innocuous gesture would certainly draw more curious eyes.

  “I’m relieved to see it is such a fine day for traveling.”

  The low rumble of the stranger’s voice startled her and Harriet stiffened slightly. He had moved closer and stood but a few feet away. A touch of nausea attacked her stomach. Her first instinct was to grab the children and run for the stable, her second was to open her mouth and scream at the top of her voice.

  “Yes, ’tis a lovely day,” Harriet replied, proud of the steadiness of her voice. She inclined her head marginally, so as not to appear terribly rude, but also turned her shoulder in a dismissive gesture to discourage any further discourse. Where was Nathaniel?

  “I imagine the children are quite a handful in the carriage. Boys don’t take kindly to being cooped up for long periods of time. Do you have a long distance to go?”

  An edge of annoyance momentarily pushed aside Harriet’s fear. The man certainly had no right to be so bold and daring merely because she had acknowledged his presence. It was highly improper for him to approach her and try to engage her in conversation and Harriet was miffed by his lack of manners.

  His clothing was of good quality, his accent English. He seemed to be a man who would certainly understand the proprieties, yet he chose not to follow them. Well, she was finished with allowing males to take those sorts of liberties!

  “Excuse me, I see my husband and our coachman approaching.”

  “But that’s not our—”

  Harriet pulled Jeanne Marie against her side, effectively muffling the rest of the child’s words. “Come along, boys,” she said, warning them with her eyes to be cautious.

  The children meekly fell into place and Harriet guided them across the yard. As they walked away, she noted the stranger pointedly looking down at her ringless finger. Harriet instinctively clenched her gloveless hands and told herself it meant nothing, she had hardly given herself away as an imposter. Not all married women wore rings.

  She moved across the yard at a steady pace, her back straight, chin up, her hands grasping the coats of all three children. She knew the stranger was watching her closely, so she neither quickened nor slowed her pace, but kept her stride even and purposeful.

  A coach and four pulled directly into their path, slowing as it prepared to make the turn out of the yard and into the road. Forced to stop, Harriet tapped her foot impatiently as she waited, not daring to turn around and see if the stranger was following. What could possibly be keeping Nathaniel?

  Jerome Brockhurst watched the woman and her three young children with a jaundice eye. There was something not quite right about them, yet he could not put his finger on anything that specifically justified his suspicion.

  She was clearly nervous, but there were any number of things that could account for that behavior. Women often exhibited oversensitive nerves when traveling. He probably should not have spoken to her, though he hardly looked like a villainous thug intent on doing her harm.

  When she first entered the yard she had been attended by a female servant who had later been sent on an errand, presumably to find out why their carriage was not here. Perhaps she was upset because the start of the day’s journey had been delayed. Yet her level of agitation seemed disproportionate to her circumstances. Deciding to test his theory further, Jerome stopped a young groom and asked in a deliberately loud voice.

  “I’m searching for a friend of mine and was wondering if he has come this way. By any chance, have you recently seen an English gentleman? He’d most likely be traveling by private coach since he’d have three children with him, two girls and a little boy.”

  The groom shook his head, but Jerome hardly noticed. He was far more interested in seeing the woman’s reaction. She stiffened slightly, then seemed to force herself to relax. Jerome’s already heightened senses went on alert.

  He began walking towards her. She must have sensed his approach for she turned and glanced at him over her shoulder. He smiled pleasantly and tipped his hat. She gave him a haughty glare and he noticed her arms reaching down protectively around her children.

  Inspired, Jerome shouted, “Miss Sainthill, please wait!”

  The name seemed to hang in the air, echoing through the b
ustling yard. The woman jerked at the sound of his voice, turned her head, then gasped in horror as if realizing she had just acknowledged her identity. She held the children in front of her body. The moment the coach moved out of the way, she pushed them forward. She shouted something to them, but a second carriage rumbled into the yard and Jerome could not understand her command.

  He tried to get closer, tried to warn her not to run away, but he wasn’t quick enough.

  “Nathaniel, help!”

  Jerome turned in anticipation, anxious for his first sighting of Lord Avery. Then a fist shot out of nowhere and caught him square on the jaw. He tilted backward and hit the ground with a resounding thud.

  Harriet had never been more relieved to see anyone in her life. She fell forward, practically collapsing into Nathaniel’s arms. He caught her against his chest, and held her close. Harriet concentrated on taking long, deep breaths, amazed that her trembling was even greater now that the incident was over.

  Nathaniel shifted his position and slid a supportive arm around her waist, his eyes anxiously searching her person. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  “My God, what happened? Did that man assault you?”

  “No.” Harriet shivered with suppressed emotion. Her eyes darted frantically about the yard. “Where are the children?”

  “In the carriage with Jane.” Nathaniel brushed his hand gently across her cheek. “My heart nearly ceased beating when they came charging into the stable. Then I heard you scream for help. Are you certain you are unharmed?”

  “Yes, I’m merely frightened. And angry.”

  “Angry?”

  “At myself.” Harriet glared down at the man sprawled in the dirt. “I walked so neatly into his trap. He must have suspected my identity, but like a dolt I confirmed his suspicions by reacting to my name.”

  “Well, he’s hardly a threat now. He’s out cold.” Nathaniel removed a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Harriet. She pressed the clean cloth to her upper lip, surprised to realize it was moist with perspiration.

  “He had an English accent,” Harriet said.

  “He must be a runner, hired by my uncle to find us,” Nathaniel decided.

  “Which isn’t very difficult, thanks to my letter and explicit directions,” Harriet said wryly.

  “ ’ere now, what’s the trouble?” The burly innkeeper marched out into the yard, leading a small army of curious spectators. “We’ll have no brawlin’ at my place, even if you do take it outside. It frightens the women and chases away the customers.”

  “This stranger accosted my wife,” Nathaniel told the innkeeper and the gathering crowd. “Apparently he mistook her identity and when she pointed out the error he refused to believe her.”

  The innkeeper looked aghast at hearing the news. “Why the blighter! I’ve never heard of anything like that happenin’ ’round here. We run a quality, safe establishment, always have, always will.”

  “I am certain this is an isolated incident,” Nathaniel declared. “Clearly the man is deranged.”

  Harriet saw the nods of agreement from the crowd and drew a sigh of relief. All eyes turned to the runner, who lay meek and motionless on the ground. She caught Nathaniel’s gaze and understood his silent message to try to slip away as the crowd debated the appropriate punishment for the attacker.

  Harriet almost felt sorry for the runner when one woman suggested that hanging was too good for the likes of him and another man offered to beat some manners into him. Only one level head voiced the suggestion of calling the local magistrate, but that idea was quickly overruled. Everyone else seemed to favor a more physical retaliation.

  “Please, do not make any more of a fuss. It will upset the children.” Harriet lifted the handkerchief and held it to her mouth. “I know I’ll feel better once I am in our coach, with my wee ones gathered around me.”

  “Of course ye would, puir dear,” the innkeeper’s wife agreed, elbowing her way through the crowd. She patted Harriet’s shoulder with solicitous female comfort. Then she turned to the crowd and bellowed, “Make way fer the lady.”

  She linked her arm with Harriet’s and parted the crowd. Flanked by the innkeeper’s wife and Nathaniel, Harriet was escorted to the coach. She thanked the woman profusely for her kindness and understanding, then stepped inside.

  The children fell on her like eager puppies, alternating questions and hugs with equal fervor. Gregory’s eyes were round as saucers and he was nearly bouncing with excitement.

  “We saw the whole thing,” he stated eagerly.

  “Uncle Nathaniel planted one right on that man’s jaw and twack he fell over. I even heard the noise when he fell down. It was marvelous.”

  Harriet sighed. “While I was certainly relieved to have your uncle’s assistance, only under the most dire of circumstances does a gentleman resort to fisticuffs in public, Gregory.”

  “Did the man hurt you, Miss Sainthill?” Phoebe asked anxiously.

  “Heavens, no.” Harriet hugged the child reassuringly. “He merely startled me. However, the incident was partially my fault and should be a lesson to us all. A respectable lady must never engage in any sort of conversation with a gentleman until she has been properly introduced, especially when she is in a public place.”

  The girls both nodded their heads in understanding, but Gregory was too enamored with the outcome of the event to listen to any advice. After listening to him retell the story several times, Harriet decided that Gregory would become like most men of his class and enjoy the manly pursuits of sparring, horse racing, shooting, hunting, fishing, boxing, and swordsmanship. Especially with Nathaniel as his guardian.

  Gregory’s hero worship reached epic proportions by noon. Harriet elected to allow him the first horseback ride with his uncle. She and the girls needed a respite from the little boy’s exhilaration, though she hoped the child’s constant chatter would not be too taxing on Lord Avery.

  She felt rather nervous about stopping for the night, wanting to put as much distance between them and the runner as possible. Nathaniel humored her concern by pushing forward until full darkness. The inn this night was not as clean, but it was not as crowded either. Two rooms were engaged and Harriet insisted Nathaniel sleep in the larger room with the children while she and Jane took the other chamber.

  Above all else, the children’s safety must come first.

  The remaining days of the journey took on a repetitive nature, varied only by the weather, condition of the roads, and the size and quality of the inns where they spent the night. Finally, the weary travelers arrived on the outskirts of Edinburgh. Jane, the nursemaid, once had the privilege of visiting the city and she helpfully pointed out the historic landmarks to a rather curious Harriet.

  The city made a most stirring first impression. A walled community dominated in the center by Edinburgh Castle, sitting majestically on its high basaltic rock, with its silhouette of ramparts and rooftops. Harriet enjoyed the beauty of the architecture and the splendor of the churches, though the less than pleasant odors reminded her that she was once again in a bustling, thriving, highly populated city.

  After a brief drive down Queen Street, the coach turned onto Charlotte Square, a palace-fronted block of elegant homes that reminded Harriet very much of London. The carriage slowed as they reached the center of the street, yet even before the vehicle came to a complete stop the front entryway of a most elegant home opened and several servants hurried out to assist them.

  “Please inform the Laird that Lord Avery has arrived,” Nathaniel told the groom who stood at the ready to take charge of his mount.

  “Aye.”

  “Uncle Duncan! Uncle Duncan! Guess what happened to us!” Gregory bolted from the coach, ran up the front steps and disappeared into the house.

  Mortified by the child’s lack of manners, Harriet scrambled out of the carriage and followed quickly on his heels.

  “Are ye lookin’ fer the young lad?” A pleasant-faced
footman asked when Harriet entered the foyer. “He’s gone tae the library searching for the Laird.”

  Harriet nodded her thanks. She was not about to push herself further into the house, so she waited for Nathaniel and the girls to join her and hoped Gregory was not making a total nuisance of himself. As she waited, Harriet let her gaze drift around, taking note of her surroundings with no small measure of astonishment.

  The marble floors were stunning, the crystal chandelier impressive, and the vases of fresh flowers, discreetly placed on several wall tables, a delightful surprise. There was an intricate wrought-iron railing following a winding set of stairs to the next floor. Adorning the large expanse of wall along the staircase was an array of pictures, an eye-pleasing mix of landscapes and portraits.

  “Miss Sainthill. This is quite a surprise.” An uncharacteristically grim-faced Duncan McTate entered the elegant foyer. Gregory was nowhere in sight.

  “I’m sorry we have invaded without prior notice, but there was no time to let you know of our dilemma,” Harriet said. She waited for her chance to teasingly scold the Scotsman for taking liberties with his greeting, but he made no move to grasp her hand.

  “You are always welcome in any of my homes,” Mr. McTate replied formally, executing a stiff bow.

  He smiled tightly, without humor and bore an air of distraction that Harriet did not think was entirely owing to their unexpected arrival. Something was definitely amiss. A warning knot of caution flickered through her body.

  A footstep by the staircase caught Harriet’s attention. She looked up, expecting to see Gregory, but it was a gray-haired gentleman who strode purposefully forward. His clothes were of the finest quality, his bearing aristocratic. Harriet smiled hesitantly, assuming he was either a relative or friend of the Laird’s.

  But then Nathaniel’s voice came from the doorway, a low snarl of anger. “Bloody hell, what’s he doing here?”

  Harriet turned to Nathaniel. His face registered surprise, then anger. The set of his jaw was hard, the expression in his eyes murderous. There was only one individual who could put Nathaniel in such a state and Harriet’s blood ran cold as she realized the identity of the mysterious gentleman.