Chasing Lord Mystery

by Aileen Fish

  “I could, but I never imagined a lady would care to speak of such things.” Northcotte was most intrigued. Was this insight from an interest in business, or did she take time to study the men she met to discern the workings of their minds? This couldn’t be a common trait in women. He couldn’t imagine his sister ever taking these variances into consideration. Joanna hadn’t spoken much about her feelings for David, even when fighting for the right to consider his proposal. Now he wondered what he’d missed all those years.

  Miriam smiled knowingly, her eyes lighting with restrained laughter. “We don’t normally care to. But not all men have learned that. If one listens in any gathering, one might learn as much from what isn’t being said as from the subject at hand.”

  What a curious minx she was. She was playing havoc with his determination to make her dislike him. Obviously intelligent, to be reading more into a conversation than polite discourse from gentlemen who obviously didn’t care to stick to the weather. He wondered how she’d made him out, given his disinclination for small talk. Beyond the business of horses, how did she see him? That wasn’t something he could ask in a setting such as this with so many ears to overhear. He’d have to wait until they had another chance at being somewhat alone.

  And knowing the scheming minds of his sister and her cousin-in-law, he wouldn’t have to wait long.

  Chapter Five

  Miriam took a bite of her toast, listening to the conversation around her as they ate breakfast a few days later.

  “It’s such a lovely day, shall we visit the folly this afternoon?” Joanna looked first to her husband, then her brother, then Miriam.

  Miriam’s gaze also circled the table, landing on Northcotte, and darting away when he looked up from his plate. The warm feeling spreading through her had nothing to do with the coffee, and everything to do with her conversation with him at the Coopers’ home. He’d been unusually friendly there, acting as her escort rather than a fellow guest at Hambleton Cottage. “That sounds delightful.”

  Joanna turned to Jane. “Do you mind? Will you be all right alone for a few hours?”

  Jane set down her cup. “I’m never alone. There are always servants underfoot.”

  “But they have their work to do,” Stephen said.

  “I will have Maggie bring her mending into my sitting room. Do not fuss. I have three more weeks before your son or daughter will make an appearance.” Jane pressed a hand to her lower back and stretched awkwardly. “Although I wouldn’t have any objection to the day coming sooner.”

  “If you are certain…” Stephen’s voice showed he was not. “We may ride out to the folly for a few hours, I suppose.”

  “Splendid,” Joanna cried. “Miriam, did you bring a riding costume?”

  Laughing, Miriam caught Jane’s eye. “Jane informed me the Lumleys never walk when they can ride, so I came prepared.”

  “Do you ride often?” Lord Northcotte asked.

  “No, I don’t. Father was not fond of horses, preferring the carriage. Mama felt it important we learn, though, so we had lessons when we stayed in Town.”

  “I shall request my most docile mare for you,” Stephen assured her.

  “Oh dear, and will a groom walk beside me and hold the lead? You all will be returning from the folly by the time I arrive there.” Miriam laughed at the scene she imagined, a short, plodding pony lifting one hesitant hoof at a time through the field.

  “No, that would be Harry’s horse.” Jane chuckled. “Angel Face has a smooth gait, but don’t expect her to trot.”

  “I believe she and I shall suit each other well.”

  When they finished eating, Stephen ordered the horses be saddled, and Miriam and the others went to dress. When she descended to the courtyard she found the Lumleys mounted and a groom standing beside a stool next to a small horse. “Is this one for me?”

  “Yes, milady,” the young man said. He helped her mount and handed her the reins.

  Northcotte came out the door and swung himself easily onto the back of a tall gelding. “Shall we be off?”

  Miriam nudged her heels into the horse’s flanks and allowed it to fall in behind the Lumleys. Northcotte rode beside her, which gave her a small bit of comfort. He couldn’t catch her if she fell, of course, but if the horse suddenly broke into a run the lord would be close enough to catch him easily.

  She flexed one hand, then the other, shifting the reins as she did.

  “Is something amiss?” Northcotte asked.

  “No. My fingers are a bit cold. Or, I’m more nervous than I realized. I feel as though my hands are in knots.”

  “There is nothing to fear.” His hat shaded his eyes, but his lips were tilted upwards in a relaxed smile. “It is not very far removed from riding in a curricle.”

  “I beg to differ. In a curricle my feet are firmly on the floor boards, and the rocking doesn’t threaten to toss me at every turn.” She exaggerated a bit, but all of her concentration was required to feel certain she was balanced well. Her confidence wasn’t helped by the fact Northcotte’s nearness had her head filled with wool. She couldn’t think straight when he was close by.

  “You are doing well. Just allow the mare to make her own way and you’ll be fine.”

  She might not fall, perhaps, but she was a long way from fine. She couldn’t think of a thing to say, finding herself as tongue-tied as when he’d asked her to dance so many years ago. As he hadn’t mentioned that night, she could assume it meant nothing to him.

  And why should it? He’d saved her from a moment of embarrassment, not from a burning building. What a foolish young girl she’d been. And she’d thought herself ready for marriage. Her sister, Harriet, had married at eighteen and now had a daughter to dote on. Harriet and Archie were madly in love after their whirlwind meeting and hurried betrothal.

  Miriam hadn’t thought her younger sister was more mature than she was, but she could think of no other reason it had taken so long to find a husband of her own. She’d tried to convince herself she was no longer comparing other gentlemen to Lord Mystery, but with him sitting beside her so tall and proud in the saddle, she knew it for a lie. No one held a candle to this man.

  She sighed before realizing what she was doing.

  “Are you more comfortable now?” Northcotte asked.

  “Yes,” she lied. Not to please him, of course, but to keep from having to explain the reason for her sigh. She could never admit her fear that if no man ever lived up to him, she’d never be able to marry. “It is a lovely day, isn’t it? I’m pleased there is no breeze to chill us.”

  “If we are too cold, we can light a fire at the folly to warm ourselves.” He urged his horse ahead and led the way down a narrow, rocky stretch across a creek.

  Miriam’s mare stumbled but quickly regained her footing. Miriam squeaked her dismay. After a moment’s panic, she realized she was still safely balanced on the sidesaddle.

  Northcotte turned in his saddle and looked back at her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, just a little stumble. My stomach fell but the rest of me stayed in place.”

  He paused beside the path and waited for her. “We can return to the house, if you prefer.”

  She would rather die than admit to this group of equestrians she was afraid to ride a horse. Her lessons had been on the side streets of London before the traffic grew heavy, or in Hyde Park during the morning hours. No hills or rocks to cause a pony to stumble. “If I quit now, I will never be comfortable on a horse again.”

  He continued to study her when she halted her horse beside his. At this distance she could see the blue of his eyes, and see the absence of his polite smile. Was he upset with her?

  She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I am keeping you from enjoying your ride. And the others have left us behind, which is highly improper. If you would prefer to ride on ahead with your sister, I can find my way back to the stables.”

  “I would never think of letting you ride back alone.” His voice
rang sharply. His lips clamped together, a thin, pale line forming above them. “I’m certain my sister hoped we would find ourselves alone, so this fits right into her plan.”

  She cringed at his tone of voice. “I begged them not to plan anything, and they said they wouldn’t. No one asked you to remain behind with me. You brought this on yourself this time.” Her chest tightened, making it difficult to draw air down her throat, which burned with the need to cry.

  She would not cry.

  “My lord, I have no intentions of finding myself in a compromising situation with you, no matter how irresistible you find yourself.” Miriam jerked on the reins to turn her horse back to the stables, and kicked her heel into the mare’s side. Startled, the horse jumped into a run. Miriam cried out as she flew into the air, unable to tighten her leg on the pommel in time. The ground rushed up at her and she landed hard. Her vision grew dark.

  When the darkness cleared, Lord Northcotte was beside her. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” she mouthed. She had no air in her lungs to speak. A stabbing pain in her side made it difficult to inhale. She pushed against the dirt and attempted to roll onto one hip. Her head spun.

  “Wait, you shouldn’t move, you might have broken something.” He gently squeezed down the length of each arm, watching her face as he did. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

  “Only where I landed, and I shall not give you permission to poke me there. I’m certain there is enough cushioning there to prevent a break. If you will help me stand, I can ascertain any serious damage.” She held an arm up for his assistance.

  Rather than take it, he swept her into his embrace and stood.

  “What are you doing? You’ll hurt yourself. Or me. Or my reputation. I cannot stand for any of those actions.” She threw an arm around his neck to keep from falling. Her heart beat faster now than it had when she was falling. Crushed against his chest, she felt his warmth beneath his cloak, and the hard muscles of his chest. The scent of his soap washed over her. He was close enough to kiss. So close, all she needed to do was lean forward and press her lips to the smooth skin of his jaw, just a hair’s breadth away…

  He turned his head, and that inch closed. His skin brushed against her lips, the bristle of his whiskers sharp on her tender skin. It wasn’t a kiss, just the happenstance touch of her lips to his face. That is what she told herself as she buried her face in his cravat. “Please, put me down.”

  Northcotte shifted her in his arms but didn’t release her. “You cannot walk until I’m certain you are not injured.”

  She released a sharp breath of frustration, but couldn’t say if it was because of his stubbornness or his lack of reaction to her kiss that was not a kiss. “Then we are at an impasse. You cannot carry me all the way back to the house.”

  “I’m certain we’ll run across a stable hand or someone before we reach the house. You see? There’s one.” He whistled, the shrill sound piercing her ear.

  Northcotte set Miriam down on a rock and waved at the young man, who came running. Once the man had gone to fetch a wagon, Northcotte glared down silently at her.

  She held up a hand against the bright halo behind him. “If you must stand over me like that, please do so on the other side. I cannot see you for the sun.”

  “Forgive me.” He stepped around her. “Are you certain you are not injured?”

  “I wish you would let me stand so I may learn what my injuries are. Nothing is causing me any pain.” Although, her heart ached beyond reason. But that wasn’t from the fall. She would never tell him that, for she couldn’t understand it herself. She wanted nothing more than to be in Northcotte’s arms again, safe, warm…oh, so warm.

  Throwing back the sides of his cloak, Northcotte fisted his hands on his hips and looked off in the direction of the house. “This will not work. You are chasing after a lame horse.”

  She leaned back to peer up at him. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I will not marry you, no matter how hard my sister and Jane push you towards me.”

  “What?” Her voice came out as shrill as a harpy. “How dare you. You are the most conceited, bull-headed, arrogant man of my acquaintance. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last unmarried man in England. If you believe I would throw myself off a horse to entrap you, you are mutton-witted. If this is how you treat the young ladies you meet, I’m not surprised you don’t receive many invitations in London.”

  “How I treat a young lady in London is completely irrelevant to how I treat a scheming, man-hunting ape-leader. It’s women like you who make men afraid of marriage. Afraid their wives will sneak up on them from behind with a fire poker.” His words came pouring out in a sputtering rush. His arms waved to punctuate his proclamations.

  The irony of the situation struck Miriam so hard she burst into laughter. A few giggles at first, a cackle, and then a rush of hysterics that collapsed into tears. This was the man against whom she had judged all others? A callous, shallow prig she had thought better than all those young gentleman who’d offered their hearts to her. “It’s all too much. I was a fool to wait for you.”

  Her head ached even more than her heart by now, but she saw the wagon approach. Without asking for help, she stood abruptly and began to walk towards the wagon.

  And her vision went dark again.

  Chapter Six

  Northcotte dove for Lady Miriam and caught her before she hit the ground, but the movement almost carried him to land on top of her. He twisted as he went down to cushion her fall.

  When he could breathe again, he sat up, Miriam cradled in his arms. Joe, the stable hand, jumped down from the wagon and ran to them. “Can I help, milord?”

  “Take her while I stand.” Northcotte lifted her as well as he could, and the young man took her. Rolling to his feet, Northcotte dusted himself off and retrieved his quiet package. She didn’t stir when handed from one man to the other. He swore under his breath. “We must hurry.”

  On the ride back, he remembered to tell the hand to watch for their horses. It was easier to think of the important things than to question the words running through his scrambled thoughts.

  I was a fool to wait for you.

  Wait for him to what? Propose? That implied she had other options. If she meant to wait for his proposal rather than accept the man her grandfather had approved, she would have worded it differently, wouldn’t she? Perhaps Joanna and Jane had convinced her he could be…persuaded to offer for her.

  His lips pursed at the bitter taste of that idea. Joanna knew better. This could be repayment for the difficulties he caused her when she sought a husband. For insisting she be friendly to that bastard, Sir Jasper Ardwen. But no, she couldn’t still blame him for that. Northcotte had resolved matters so Joanna had been free to marry David as she wished.

  If it wasn’t revenge, why were they working so hard to make a match between him and Lady Miriam?

  He tightened his arm around her when they went around a curve to keep her from falling again. She whimpered but did not move. Her face was so pale, making her rose-colored lips stand out. They pouted, so full and ripe. His thumb itched to brush across them.

  He was mad. One minute accusing her of trying to trap him and putting him in the very position Arrington had been in, the next he wanted to kiss her. In front of the stable hand. Lady Miriam’s father would hold a fire poker to his back as he walked down the church aisle.

  Pieces of their conversation bounced around in his head. He’d been too harsh on her. The more time he spent with her, the more difficult it was to be strong in his resolve to keep his distance. By now, he knew her well enough to know she’d never come after him with a poker if she found him with a mistress. No, she would hold all the blame herself, withdrawing from her happy life and wondering what she’d done to push him into the arms of another woman.

  She deserved so much better.

  The ride in the wagon seemed to take twice as long as Miriam’s plodding mare had travelled, but Joe steered the wagon
to a halt at the front entrance. Stephen’s butler opened the door, and upon seeing the wagon rushed forward. “Shall I send for the doctor?”

  “Please,” Northcotte barked. He carried her into the morning room, hurrying around the chaise to have her head on the elevated side when he lay her down. Her head rolled to one side, but she didn’t make a sound.

  Jane rushed into the room and knelt beside Lady Miriam, taking a limp hand in her own. “What happened?”

  “She fell from her horse. She seemed fine, at first, but when the wagon I sent for arrived, she stood up and dropped dead before taking more than three steps.” He hovered over her, leaning one hand on the carved wood trim of the chaise. Blame continued to eat at him. If he hadn’t argued with her, she would never have considered riding back alone and wouldn’t have fallen.

  Jane placed a hand on his arm. “Will you carry her to her chamber upstairs? Or shall I call for a footman?”

  Northcotte jumped to do it. “There’s no need for a footman.”

  Following behind him while he carried Lady Miriam, Jane said, “I’m having some rags and cool water brought up. Henderson sent a boy to fetch Dr. Abraham from the village.”

  He couldn’t help but voice his fears. “She shouldn’t be unconscious this long. Not when she sat talking with me right after the fall.”