“I am so sorry,” Miranda said. “I had no idea my mount would act like that.”
Alex glanced at her. She didn’t look or sound the least contrite. “You are an excellent horsewoman. You should have known better.”
“I said I was sorry,” Miranda answered, slanting a sideways glance at him and smiling seductively. “How can I make it up to you?”
Alex lifted an eyebrow. “It is Inis you should be apologizing to.”
Miranda stopped smiling. “Who is she anyway?”
“Someone I know,” Alex replied. Lady Compton’s mouth dropped open and Miranda looked annoyed, as though she thought he was toying with her. But he didn’t wait for an answer as he turned the gelding toward Inis and urged the horse to a canter.
…
Miranda narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she watched Alex chase after Inis. How dare he go after the woman when she’d offered him an invitation? An invitation she knew he understood. So who was the little bitch and where had she come from?
“She must be a houseguest of Lord Ashley’s,” Lady Compton said, seeming to read Miranda’s thoughts.
The idea of that red-haired hoyden staying at Alex’s home was almost too much to contemplate. Miranda swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “Was she at the Linfords’ rout?” She hadn’t been able to attend since her blasted husband had been under the weather that evening and forbidden her to go on her own because he was still suspicious about her locked door the night Alex had been in her bed.
“I did not see her.”
“One would think if she was Lord Ashley’s guest, he would have asked to bring her.”
Lady Compton laughed. “I doubt that Melanie Linford would have appreciated that.”
Miranda kept her voice casual. “Why do you say that?”
Her companion gave her a sharp look. “Melanie spent a great deal of time trying to lure Lord Ashley onto the veranda. I never did find out if she did.”
Miranda managed to keep her face impassive. The dinner at the Comptons’ had been bad enough. Melanie was going to have to be dealt with. But Miranda didn’t want to provide fodder for Jeannette Compton to spread about by allowing her emotions to show. Better to change the subject.
Lady Compton shook her head. “With that color of hair, I would wager she is on the stage.”
“What would an actress be doing riding one of Lord Ashley’s prized horses?”
Lady Compton eyed Miranda speculatively. “Perhaps because she plans to ride Lord Ashley later?”
“You do have quite the imagination, Jeannette,” Miranda said as she turned her horse toward the Ring, but she narrowed her eyes again as she rode. This wouldn’t do. She and Alex were destined to be together. It had taken only one night to convince her of that. Usually, she required multiple partners to satiate her lust, at least temporarily. Alex had done so in one attempt. He had recognized what she wanted—needed—and had given her the rare gift of complete, exquisite, and total satisfaction.
Alex was hers. No other female was going to get in the way.
Chapter Four
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I do not think so.” Alex frowned at Brice Barclay and handed him a snifter of brandy before taking the seat opposite him in the library the next afternoon. “I think my idea is brilliantly clever.”
Brice raised a brow. “How many cognacs did you have before you came to that conclusion?”
“None. You know I like putting George’s nose out of joint whenever I can.”
“You have ever since I’ve known you, not that I blame you for it. Your brother is the most ostentatious prick I know.” Brice swirled his brandy and took a swallow, waiting a moment to savor it before he spoke again. “But trying to train a servant to act like a lady—”
“Inis is not a servant. She is a hostler.”
“Being a horse handler does not exactly help matters, does it? I saw the girl when I arrived. She came to take my horse around back. I have to admit a female in breeches is a novelty, at least for any male within sight, but a woman who mucks out stalls is never going to be accepted by the ton.”
“But that is the precise beauty of it.”
Brice looked at the half-empty brandy decanter and then at Alex. “Are you sure you have not been nipping into that?”
Alex shook his head. “If you could have seen the looks of incredulity on the ladies’ faces when we were in the park. By now, I suspect half the ton is atwitter about who the mystery woman really is.”
“They will close on her like a pack of wolves.”
“I have no intention of letting that happen. She is under my protection since she is under my roof,” Alex said. “I will escort Inis whenever we leave the property, and I will not put her at the mercy of the ton until I have fully educated her in proper etiquette.”
Both of Brice’s brows lifted. “You are going to teach her proper etiquette?”
Alex raised his own. “You do not think I can do it?”
Brice grinned. “Your…er, associations with women have not been exactly proper.”
“Not that kind of thing,” Alex answered, although the idea intrigued him. Maybe… He forced his thoughts from the images of a naked Inis lying in a mussed bed. “Hell, you and I have both been drilled on making small talk, using the proper forks, and making sure we do not step on a dancing partner’s foot, ad nauseam. How hard can it be to teach someone else?”
“Are you not forgetting that mamas send their daughters to boarding schools for years to learn all that? Besides, what is the point? Are you planning to pass Inis off as a missing heiress?”
“I intend to say as little as possible. Building curiosity among the ton—”
“Makes them more rabid, you mean.”
“Perhaps,” Alex replied, “but that is why I want to make sure Inis can hold her own when I finally do escort her to George’s ball. My brother and his cronies will not be able to find a thing to criticize about her. He will be furious to find out he and his cronies have been duped.”
“I think you are forgetting something.”
Alex frowned. “Do not tell me you agree with my pretentious sibling about titles making one group of people better than another? I thought I knew you better—”
“It is not that. For Christ’s sake, I am a baron. Do I flaunt that?”
Alex relaxed and grinned. “Only when it helps persuade a female into bed.”
“Persuasion is usually not necessary,” Brice replied with mock indignation, “unless you are speaking for yourself.”
“Moi?” Alex mirrored his friend’s expression. “But we digress. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Have you mentioned your grand idea to Inis? What if she does not agree to your scheme?”
“What woman wouldn’t welcome the chance to better her position? I can’t imagine that Inis wouldn’t want the opportunity to become educated and even enjoy the benefits society has to offer for a while.” Alex’s grin broadened. “Besides, I intend to be very persuasive.”
…
Inis stared at Alex, not sure she had heard him properly. It was only mid-morning, but perhaps the man indulged in spirits a bit early. She sniffed the air, but the stench of manure covered whatever liquor might be on his breath. “We are standing here in the middle of a stall that needs mucking out, and ye are telling me ye want me to act like a lady?”
“Yes.”
Inis frowned. “Beggin’ your pardon, but are ye a wee bit touched in the head?”
Alex grinned “Not at all, although my brother might well be.”
“The duke? ’Tis a trait in English nobility then? I heard your king talks to trees.”
“King George has an affliction,” Alex replied, “but what I meant was my brother George has too high an opinion of himself, which is the reason I want you to become a lady. With my help, of course.”
Inis felt her eyes widen. “With your help?”
“Yes. I am sure it does sound a bit od
d. Brice—Baron Barclay—thought so too until he heard me out.”
Alex must be referring to the man who’d arrived in a stylish phaeton yesterday afternoon, drawn by a coal-black horse that looked to have a Friesian bloodline. She’d practically scampered to the driveway to lead the beautiful animal to the stables, but the man—who had golden-colored eyes like a wolf and a penetrating look to match—had said there was no need.
“Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere that smells better?” Alex asked.
Inis braced her pitchfork against the side of the stall and followed Alex out to the paddock area. He leaned against the rails casually, but she still gave him a wary look. What if this was a trick? Perhaps the baron or that woman who had visited the house had mentioned something about a missing niece of an Irish duke. Maybe Alex was trying to get her to confess. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“There is no need to be nervous,” Alex said. “Be assured, when I am through tutoring you, you will feel totally comfortable whether at a formal dinner, making polite conversation at the theatre, or dancing at a ball.”
Inis studied him. Was he trying to get her to admit she already knew how to do all those things?
“Are you not going to speak? Does it not sound like a grand opportunity for you?”
It most definitely did not. The last thing she wanted to do was be seen at aristocratic functions. “I am happy to work with the horses. I have nae desire to join the likes of those who give themselves airs.”
Alex nodded. “That is precisely why I want you to do it.”
Inis took a tentative step back. Perhaps Alex was a bit barmy after all. “Ye are nae making sense, my lord.”
“Please do not call me lord. I do not think having the luck to be born into nobility makes one man better than the next.”
Her father’s words. Inis tilted her head. “Why do ye want me to act like a noble lady then?”
“I want to prove my point. I want to present you to the ton as a lady as accomplished as the debutantes who attend boarding schools.”
Inis shook her head. “Do ye wish to humiliate me?”
“Never.” Alex looked taken back. “I would not consider escorting you to a Society function until you feel ready. In fact, I want to create a bit of mystery regarding your identity.”
Did Alex know something about her identity? She gave him another wary look. “Why?”
“Because of the way the ton thinks. There is already speculation since Lady Compton and Countess Benton saw you in the park. The past few days, rumors have spread about who you are and why you are my guest. That is the reason Brice came over yesterday afternoon. He wanted to see for himself.”
“I doona understand what difference it makes to anyone.”
“The more the ton does not know, the more curious they will get. By the time I present you, those women will be falling all over themselves to be the first to make your acquaintance. Meanwhile, you do not even have to speak when we are out riding and come across any of them. That will make them wonder what you sound like, too.”
Inis arched a brow. “Ye mean until I lose me brogue?”
Alex shrugged. “It would be better if you sounded more like you were from Dublin, so perhaps we can work on that a bit.”
Inis bit back a grin. He had no idea how difficult it was maintaining the Connacht brogue of western Ireland. She suddenly had an impish impulse, or maybe a faerie was nudging her, to have a little fun with this ridiculous idea. The thought of Alex “tutoring” her had a certain appeal. She was not immune to how masculine and virile he was. Besides, the fact that she already knew how to do what he was going to “teach” her appealed to her sense of humor. She was Irish after all.
“If I agree to this, ye promise ye will nae force me to go out in Society until I feel I am ready?”
Alex nodded. “I vow it.”
If she were in charge of the timing, that wouldn’t happen until it snowed on the Shannon in the summer. What could go wrong? Inis held out her hand to shake. “Ye have a deal, then.”
Instead, Alex bowed over it, and placed a kiss across her knuckles. “I am looking forward to this.”
She startled a little at how warm and firm his lips were with that mere brush. A slight tingle shot up her arm.
How odd.
…
Inis was still pondering the situation later that afternoon when she climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, bypassing the third floor that housed the other female servants. She’d been given a separate room on the attic floor.
Elsie, one of the house servants, would be arriving soon with hot water for the hip bath that had been moved into the small chamber. She suspected she’d been given the private room—actually not much bigger than a walk-in closet—because the other women didn’t want to share space with someone who smelled of horses. That probably explained the hip bath. Not that she was complaining. The idea of being able to soak in a full tub of hot water was something she’d always taken for granted. Even a few inches of warm water these days felt like a luxury.
There was a knock on her door and Elsie entered with two footmen lugging pails of hot water. They dumped the contents in the tin bath and left after giving her an appraising look she ignored. Elsie put a clean towel on the small chest of drawers and started to dip a curtsy and then seemed to remember Inis was not a guest. Her status as a horse handler didn’t fit into any proper category, since grooms and such normally slept in barrack-type rooms near the stables. She hadn’t been assigned any house duties, which caused a further dilemma over where she should be placed in the precise ranking of servants. Elsie seemed friendly enough—friendlier than the others—and Inis wondered if, or how much, she was resented by the servants.
The maid smiled at her. “Do you need anything else?”
It was a question she asked every day. When she’d made her escape from an unwanted marriage in Ireland, it had been with enough money to support herself until she could decide on her next move. She’d even thought about going to America and starting a new life. That option had been taken away when she was robbed.
She wasn’t sure if her present situation would be temporary or not, but she didn’t need to be waited on. Maybe that was why Elsie was friendly. Inis wondered how the servants would react once Alex began “educating” her. Maybe she could find out in a roundabout way.
“Does everyone who works for Lord Ashley know how to read and write?”
Elsie looked surprised at the question. Inis supposed it did sound strange, but if she were going to be spending time being “tutored” it might be better if the rest of the staff thought that the instruction was on literacy and not aristocratic protocol.
“Most of us do, at least a little,” the maid replied. “Why do you ask?”
Inis shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed to remove her boots. “Lord Ashley said today that me brogue was a bit hard to understand, and he mentioned educating me.”
Elsie wrinkled her brow. “I never heard his lordship say anything about how we sound. When he hired all of us, he said the important thing was loyalty.”
Inis paused with one boot still on. “When he hired all of ye? Why was this house empty?”
“The house belongs to his brother,” Elsie replied. “When Lord George inherited the title, he moved to Mayfair and took his servants with him.”
“I suppose ’tis an advancement.”
“Maybe,” Elsie said, “but I’d rather work for Lord Ashley than the duke any day.”
Inis pulled off her other boot. “Why is that?”
“It’s the duchess, really. I have a cousin who has been one of her personal maids for a long time. She says Her Grace can be difficult.” Elsie clapped a hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t be talking about the duchess, though.”
Inis frowned. “Why nae? Despite her title, she is human.”
Elsie shook her head. “It’s not that. Lord Ashley doesn’t want her name mentioned here.”
Curios
ity rose in Inis. “Why not?”
Elsie hesitated and then went to look out into the hallway before she closed the door and turned around. “I suppose I can tell you. You’ll probably hear about it soon enough. Promise me you won’t say a word to his lordship.”
Intrigue overcame curiosity. Why would Alexander Ashley not want his sister-in-law’s name mentioned? “Ye have me word.”
Elsie lowered her voice to a whisper even though the door was closed. “His lordship intended to marry the duchess. She was Lady Amelia Stanton then. My cousin says he was smitten with the lady.”
Inis had an unfamiliar sensation as though her stomach had just dropped to her toes, although she didn’t know why. “What happened?”
Elsie paused. “Lady Amelia had…ambitions.”
Inis began to have an inkling to what happened next. She’d seen it often enough in Ireland’s aristocratic circles. “Lady Amelia preferred to marry a duke instead?”
Elsie nodded.
“But why would the duke marry her if he knew Lord Ashley intended to?”
“I don’t know for sure. My cousin says His Grace and our lordship don’t get along.” The maid lifted her shoulders. “Also, Lady Amelia is very beautiful.”
The odd, sinking sensation in Inis’s stomach returned. It should come as no surprise to find out that someone as good looking as Alexander Ashley was attracted to pretty women. Handsome men and beautiful women went together as naturally as a matched pair of horses.
“I should leave before your bath water gets cold,” Elsie said.
“Thank ye, I appreciate…” Inis started to say, but the maid had already scurried to the door as though she was afraid she’d said too much. Inis let her go, then stripped off her shirt and breeches, glad there wasn’t a mirror in the small room. She didn’t need to see that her slender body was more angles than curves or that her riotous curls never looked smooth and combed.
A Rake's Redemption Page 4
