Princess Charming

by Nicole Jordan

  Indeed, the Collyer Stud was becoming known as one of the premiere breeding stables in England, due primarily to the stallion’s superior bloodlines in combination with the canny expertise of the aging stable master, George Gandy.

  “I hadn’t heard that Emperor’s ownership had changed hands,” Ash remarked.

  “My stepmother sold him to Deering three weeks ago, even though I am his rightful owner.” The bitterness in Maura’s voice was unmistakable. “Emperor has always belonged to me. My father gave him to me the night of his birth, and I helped raise him from a foal.”

  “Then how did your stepmother manage to sell him to Deering?”

  The story came spilling out then, perhaps because she was too enraged to hold her tongue. “Lord Deering has his own racing stables and has long wanted the prestige of having a prize stallion. He succeeded in gaining Priscilla’s allegiance by promising his patronage for her daughters’ society debuts.”

  The assertion matched what Ash knew about Maura’s family situation. At a young age she had lost her mother to a fever, and her father had remarried again some dozen years ago, to a widowed lady who already had two young daughters of her own; girls who were now of marriageable age, but whose chances of making even modest matches had been scotched by the disgrace attached to their family name during a cheating scandal. Reportedly, Maura shared an uneasy relationship with her stepmother, in large part due to maternal envy. It had never set well with Priscilla Collyer that Maura outshone her rather plain stepsisters so markedly.

  “I thought your father provided Mrs. Collyer an adequate fortune, but left the stud to you,” Ash probed.

  “He did,” Maura acknowledged. “When my father died, our house in London went to Priscilla, but his will left the farm and breeding stables to me, including all the horses. The deed of birth for Emperor, however, was in my father’s name, not mine, and Priscilla exploited that fact. When she visited my farm a few weeks ago, she took the deed from my files, then sold Emperor to Viscount Deering for a significant sum. I didn’t even realize what she had done until Deering came with the sheriff to collect Emperor. I was away from home that afternoon, so Gandy had to let my horse go.”

  “And you have no proof of ownership?”

  “No, none. I have little recourse, either. I could try to sue in court, but I might not win. And by the time the legalities are sorted out, Emperor could suffer irreparable harm.” Maura’s hands curled into fists, betraying her anxiety. “Deering brought him to London, of all places, and is stabling him in a cramped mews with no place to run. And according to Gandy’s connections, Deering has taken a whip to Emperor more than once. I cannot bear to think of him being beaten and abused.”

  “So you decided to try and buy the stallion back rather than fight a legal battle you may lose?”

  Maura nodded. “I don’t have such a huge sum at my disposal just now, since I put my entire inheritance into building up the Collyer Stud, but the bloodstock is worth a great deal, and I am willing to sell my two other stallions and all the broodmares if need be. In fact, I immediately came to London for that very purpose—to make my offer to Deering in person. But he refused to receive me every time I called. Then Katharine hit on a plan to aid me.”

  “What sort of plan?”

  “When she learned what happened, she promised to ensure that Deering attended her ball this evening so that I would have a chance to speak to him.”

  Ash felt himself frown slightly. “When was this?”

  “A fortnight ago.”

  About the time Katharine had asked him to throw her a grand ball, he realized. The timing seemed curious. In truth, he could almost recognize his sister’s fine hand at work here. Katharine frequently plotted to bend fate to her will. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had contrived the entire ball merely to help her bosom friend.

  “But all our careful planning was for naught,” Maura muttered.

  “Because Deering refused your offer outright?” Ash asked.

  “Yes. You heard his odious reply. I swore I would control my temper when I confronted him, but I couldn’t manage it.” She bit her lower lip. “I suppose I should never have hurt him like that, even if his proposition was utterly revolting.”

  “Probably not,” Ash murmured wryly, his mouth curving at the memory of the viscount getting his comeuppance.

  When Maura stopped her pacing to glare at him, however, he stifled his smile. “That was not a criticism of your courage, sweeting. I only meant that Deering cannot bear being bested. You clearly earned his enmity by savaging his pride. ‘She-devil,’ ‘witch,’ ‘vixen’ … what other names did he call you just now?”

  Her voice vibrated with irritation. “I have a few choice names for that conniving villain as well. And yet I have likely ruined any chance to persuade him to sell Emperor back to me.” Suddenly Maura brought a hand to her temple as if just now realizing the ramifications of her actions.

  To Ash’s surprise, she trudged over to the bench and sank down beside him. Her elegantly-clad shoulders slumped as she gazed unseeingly at the ground.

  “I would not put it past Deering to punish an innocent animal,” she lamented, “but I will never forgive myself if he takes out his anger at me on my horse.”

  Ash didn’t much like that note of despair in her voice, or her look of defeat either. He would rather have Maura spitting fire than surrendering to frustration and disappointment.

  When she shivered and rubbed her gloved arms, Ash knew that she’d finally become cognizant of her surroundings, now that her ire had eased somewhat. The spring night air was cooler here in the gardens and held a dampness that raised goose bumps on her exposed skin.

  Reflexively, Ash slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. His gesture, although intended to be benevolent, was not exactly proper, and she stiffened accordingly.

  “Hold your protests, Miss Collyer,” he advised lightly. “You need warmth, and I can provide it. I would do the same for my sister and cousin.”

  Rather than argue, Maura accepted his offer of warmth and let his arm remain around her.

  “I could loan you my coat,” Ash added in further explanation, “but it would do your reputation no good to be seen wearing my clothing when we return to the ball.”

  “I confess surprise, my lord,” she rejoined with a hint of her usual spirit. “I thought you didn’t give a fig about propriety.”

  “Ordinarily I don’t, but you are my guest after all.”

  A short silence ensued while he held her, sharing his body heat. Despite his avowal of innocent motives, though, Ash realized that he wasn’t fooling himself; he was not feeling the least brotherly toward Maura. Not when he was so aware of her deliciously soft form pressing against his side.

  He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I can assist you in dealing with Deering,” he suggested, as much to focus his attention elsewhere as from any conscious plan to aid her.

  Glancing up with a look of surprise, Maura searched his face before answering. “Thank you, Lord Beaufort, but I believe in solving my own problems. Besides, Katharine has already put herself out enough on my behalf.”

  Even though he admired her pluckiness in taking on the viscount, he wasn’t convinced she could handle the problem on her own. “What do you intend to do then?”

  “I will think of something. I have no intention of leaving Emperor in his hands for long. But my body is too high a price to pay—” She broke off with a grimace and looked away again. “Here I am, going on and on about my private affairs that can be no concern of yours. Pray forgive me.”

  She seemed rather embarrassed by her loosened tongue, Ash noticed. He doubted Maura was accustomed to sharing her intimate confidences in such detail. Moreover, she was correct; her affairs were none of his concern. And yet some chivalrous part of him balked at leaving her to face a lecher like Deering alone.

  “You ought not reject my offer of assistance out of hand,” he advised. “As a peer, I have resources at my comma
nd that you do not.”

  Evidently he had struck a nerve, for Maura went rigid again. “How well I know it,” she grated under her breath. “Wealthy, powerful noblemen can literally get away with murder. It galls me to have to beg the man who killed my father.”

  Her wild claim voiced in that fierce tone took Ash aback, but he returned a measured reply. “That is a serious charge, my sweet witch. How do you know he was complicit in your father’s death?”

  She gave a hard shrug. “Oh, I know he didn’t murder Papa directly. Just drove him into an early grave with his accusations of cheating. Papa’s heart gave way before he could clear his name, and the doctors believe the scandal was the prime cause.”

  “I don’t think I ever heard the entire story,” Ash said leadingly.

  “It is quite simple. Deering has coveted Emperor forever and frequently offered to purchase him, but Papa would never sell him. So in order to win our stallion, two years ago his lordship tried to force my father’s hand at the gaming tables. He lured Papa into a gambling den and then claimed he was playing with marked cards. Of course it was a brazen lie, but who would believe a commoner accused by a prominent nobleman?”

  From the tense vibrations of her body, Ash knew she was getting angry all over again.

  “And then to hear Deering boast tonight about his success …” Maura whispered. “It was like a knife to my chest. How I despise that contemptible man! It was all I could do to force myself to speak to him civilly.” She made a growling sound deep in her throat. “But I don’t know whether I am more furious at him or at my own impotence in fighting him.”

  She hardly seemed helpless, Ash mused to himself, but he now understood her anger better. Maura not only blamed Deering for her father’s death, but the viscount’s underhanded appropriation of her stallion several weeks ago had only added insult to injury.

  She was tense with fury now. When Ash felt another shudder of anger and loathing ripple through her body, he resolved to distract her from her wrath. Granted, his chosen method of distraction would probably unsettle her, but it was the most effective way he knew to jolt Maura out of her despondency and bring back her usual spirited temperament.

  Yet it was only fair to give her proper warning, he decided.

  “You need to take a deep breath, love.”

  After a moment, she did as he bid, inhaling deeply and exhaling in a controlled rush.

  “Again,” he ordered, waiting until she complied twice more. “Are you calm yet?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because I want to know if you will respond in the same way when I kiss you.”

  Giving a start, Maura peered up at him. “You cannot kiss me, Beaufort.”

  Ash raised an eyebrow. That sort of bald challenge was irresistible to a Wilde. “Certainly I can—and I will. Your anger still needs soothing.”

  She stared at him in mute disbelief. When he tightened his arm around her, she drew a hushed breath upon realizing he was serious.

  Her beauty was alluring in the golden lanternlight, her lips intensely inviting, Ash reflected as he bent closer.

  It was outrageous of him, provocative in the extreme, and might earn him the same response his predecessor had received. But he was acting again on impulse, following his instincts as he lowered his head to capture her ripe mouth.…

  Evidently he had startled Maura enough to catch her off guard, for she went utterly still in his arms.

  Her lips were just as delectable as he’d imagined, Ash thought, relishing their softness. Driven to explore further, he parted the seam of her mouth and slipped his tongue inside to tangle with hers.

  When she remained frozen, he took advantage of her momentary paralysis to deepen his kiss, sliding one hand behind her nape and holding her head so that he could drink more fully of her. Maura opened for his penetration, her response tentative, curious, as if she were contemplating his taste.

  The experience made heat rise inside Ash. His loins stirring to life, he trailed his free hand downward, along her throat to the swell of her breasts. Maura reacted with a small indrawn gasp. Yet instead of pulling away, she leaned into him and raised one slender arm to twine it about his neck.

  Her involuntary surrender only increased Ash’s craving for her. Painfully aroused now, he felt a primal male urge to take what he wanted—and an even stronger need to heighten her desire.

  Still savoring her mouth, he slipped his fingertips below the edge of her bodice, delving under her chemise and corset, gliding against bare, silken skin.

  Her resulting shiver filled him with satisfaction. Lightly brushing her hardened nipples with the back of his knuckles, Ash freed one luscious breast from her confining garments and bent down to taste her. When he flicked the taut rose-hued bud with his tongue, she gave a soft moan—an unmistakable pleasure-sound that made Ash suddenly recall their surroundings.…

  Sweet hell. He was getting so carried away that he was about to undress Maura Collyer right there in the garden, within shouting distance of three hundred ball guests.

  Breathing heavily, Ash forced himself to draw back. In the rasping silence, Maura blinked up at him, looking dazed and dreamy-eyed.

  “That is quite far enough, my lovely witch,” he murmured, his voice huskier than he would have liked.

  His comment apparently broke the spell she was under, for her entire body gave a start. Yet Ash was forewarned and thus prepared for her next instinctive action. When Maura drew her fist back, he caught it and locked his fingers around her wrist to prevent her blow from landing painfully on his jaw.

  “I should have known you would try to plant me a facer,” Ash said with a rueful smile. “And perhaps I deserved it.”

  “No doubt you did.” Breathing hard herself, she jumped up from the bench and retreated a safe distance, looking both disconcerted and disgruntled as she awkwardly covered her bosom. “I told you not to kiss me, Lord Beaufort,” she complained.

  “No, you said I cannot kiss you, which is not at all the same thing. Telling a Wilde he cannot do something is like taunting a bull with a red cape.”

  “How well I know it,” Maura admitted with a huff of annoyance. “Katharine is the same way. But I was not challenging you to prove your manhood, I promise you.”

  “Perhaps I just couldn’t help myself,” he said with more honesty than was wise.

  She raised her fingers to her lips, then shook her head in bewilderment. “Not for a moment do I believe you lacked self-control.”

  “You should. I could not resist kissing you, Miss Collyer. You look very beautiful when you are in a towering rage. But I also wished to provide you a diversion and take your mind off Deering.”

  “Now that I might credit.”

  “My tactic worked, did it not?”

  His question made her pause. “As a matter of fact, it did.” For a moment, Maura offered him a wondering, if fleeting, smile. Then she shook her head in exasperation. “You are utterly outrageous, Lord Beaufort.”

  “So I have been told.”

  “I always knew you were an infamous rogue, but I never suspected you to be as lecherous as Deering.”

  “Good God, I should hope not.” Ash gave a mock shudder. Although he’d enjoyed his share of scandalous liaisons, he was hardly the libertine that Deering was.

  Maura shook her head again, as if trying to corral her wits. “I suppose I should thank you. You were right—I needed to remain out here in the gardens to cool off. But I am calm enough now. You needn’t concern yourself with me any further,” she added as she turned back toward the house.

  “Where are you going?” he was surprised into asking.

  “To find Katharine and take my leave of her.”

  Ash was hard-pressed to explain his disappointment. “The night is still young. The ball has barely begun.”

  Maura halted to glance over her shoulder at him. “I only came this evening so I could speak to my nemesis and implore him to sell my horse back to me. But since my attempt was a
n utter failure, there is no point in my remaining. I dislike balls almost as much as you do.”

  She might have left him then, but when Ash remained seated, she hesitated. “Don’t you intend to return to the ball?”

  “In a moment. Kissing you had an unfortunate effect on my anatomy. I need to cool off myself.”

  Reflexively Maura glanced down at his loins, where the thick bulge in his satin knee breeches proclaimed his state of arousal. A becoming flush stained her cheeks as she evidently understood his meaning.

  She opened her mouth to retort, but then apparently thought better of engaging him in a duel of words on such a subject as male arousal. Turning away again, she hurried along the path toward the terrace steps.

  With a half-amused, half-pained grin, Ash braced his hands behind him on the bench. Tilting his head back, he gazed up at the dark sky in bemusement, contemplating the powerful effect Maura Collyer had on him.

  He was immensely attracted to the deliciously spirited beauty. In fact, he hadn’t experienced so fierce a sexual attraction in years. He probably should not have kissed her, however, for now he knew exactly how she tasted.

  Well, he’d wanted to enliven his evening, and his wish had been granted in spades. What intrigued him most, though, was why Maura had allowed him to embrace her so brazenly, even for those few short moments. He supposed he should be gratified by her reaction when he’d stroked her lovely breasts. When Deering had tried to fondle her, she’d fended off his advances by kneeing him in the groin.

  Ash winced with wry amusement, realizing it was a good thing that she had been sitting down when he was driven to caress her.

  Almost as intriguing as Maura’s momentary surrender was her admission that Katharine was a confederate in her battle against the viscount. Ash wanted to know exactly what role his sister was playing in the affair. If he knew Kate, she was cheerfully engaged in machinations.

  One thing was for certain, he ruminated as he stood and readjusted his clothing to make himself presentable to his guests: He intended to have a serious discussion with his meddlesome younger sibling as soon as her tiresome ball ended.