Noah lowered the sketchbook and watched as a young woman came racing from the other side of the lake. She had the hem of a very pretty blue gown caught up in her hand and as she sprinted toward him, he caught a tantalizing glimpse of shapely ankle and a flash of stocking-clad calf.
She had almost reached him when she stumbled and tilted forward onto her knees on the ground. Noah moved to assist her, but she was on her feet again immediately, apparently unaware of her flushed face, locks of chestnut hair toppling around her shoulders and now-dirty skirt that flapped about her feet.
“Are you quite all right?” Noah called out, still too stunned to truly comprehend what was going on.
“Put that down this instant!” she repeated as she stormed up to him, past him and approached his horse.
Phantom was a big animal. Black as night and intimidating as hell. The girl did not seem impressed as she slapped him gently across the nose.
“Give it back!”
Noah rushed over to her and stared. “What in the world are you doing, young lady?”
She glared at him. “Are you daft as well as blind? Your horse is eating my pencils!”
Noah blinked as he turned toward Phantom. Indeed, the last remnants of a charcoal pencil clung to his fat lower lip. And there were no signs of the other three that had once sat on the tree trunk.
“Good Lord,” he said as he caught the rein and backed the horse away from his chosen snack. Not that it would do any good now. The damage was most certainly done.
“And while we’re at it,” the young woman said and she reached out and snatched the sketch book from his arms. She clutched it against her chest. “I hope you didn’t intend for this to be his second course.”
Noah couldn’t help it. He laughed. And to his surprise, the young woman’s face relaxed a fraction.
“I do apologize Miss…?”
“Marion Hawthorne.” She wiped a grass stain from her hand onto her dirty skirt and held it out to him. From the angle it was obvious she expected him to shake it.
Confused, Noah did so.
“Miss Hawthorne,” he repeated. “I wasn’t paying attention to my horse. Even if I had, I’ve never known him to snack on pencils, so I will be more careful in the future. My only excuse is that Phantom and I rarely get to run freely and perhaps we were both taken in by the rare experience. I shall certainly make amends for the loss of your pencils if you tell me where you live. I’m afraid I haven’t visited this place for many a year now and don’t know all the folk who reside here.”
Miss Hawthorne’s face became solemn as the outrage faded from her eyes. “I accept your apology since I know what it’s like to be kept under tight rein. But I don’t live here. My father and I are staying with Mr. Lucas at Toppleton Square a few miles away.”
“With Mr. Josiah Lucas?” he asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. Suddenly this chance meeting had turned into something much more.
Miss Hawthorne blinked once with what could only be described as a condescending smile. “Is there another Mr. Lucas and another Toppleton Square in Woodbury?”
Noah arched an eyebrow. Touché.
It had been a long time since he’d met someone who could match his wit, and a woman especially. The lass was a spitfire. Now that he’d had a good look at her, an extremely beautiful spitfire. Her skin was a warm peach color, her cheeks darkened by just a hint of pink from the exertion of her run. The sun glistened off her chestnut hair, casting flashes of gold in the tangled locks when she turned her head at certain angles.
As if she sensed his appraising glance, she raised one slender hand to vainly push her locks to the right place. Immediately they fell back into disarray.
“Is there?” she repeated.
Noah shook his head, brought back to the present with her laughter-filled question. “Is there…?”
“Another Josiah Lucas in Woodbury?”
A half-smile tilted Noah’s lips. “No, I believe there is only one. And if you’ll allow me, Phantom and I will escort you back to Toppleton Square with our apologies yet again for the horse’s bad behavior.”
She eyed him with mistrust. “The horse I have no quarrel with.”
She walked to Phantom’s side. Immediately the old boy lifted his head from where he grazed and nuzzled her neck. She rubbed her hand along the entire length of the animal’s nose and whispered, “Apology accepted, my fine boy.”
With a nicker, Phantom edged a little closer. Not that Noah blamed him. If she touched him like that he might just fall under her spell, as well. Her delicate hands looked like they could hold a man captive for hours, playing along his skin as easily as they played a pianoforte.
Noah started. Was it not only a week before when he’d stood in Charlotte Ives’ sitting room and told her he wouldn’t play the rake during his time in Woodbury? And now he stood a few feet from a young woman he’d just met and already he was concocting ways to have a tumble with her.
Suddenly she turned away from the horse. “Yes, the animal I trust. But you, sir, have no name as of yet, and I have been told never to take walks with strangers.”
He bowed low. “My apologies, Miss Hawthorne, I’ve forgotten my manners. I was surprised to find you here since this lake is little known in the shire. And I was also taken aback by the skill in your drawings.”
She blinked. “You liked my work?”
He nodded. “Immensely. You are very good.” She flushed and he shifted with a sudden discomfort. She was really very pretty. “Er, at any rate, my name is Noah Jordan, Earl of…” He shut his eyes with a quiet curse at his slip of the tongue. “My apologies, the Marquis of Woodbury.”
Miss Hawthorne’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “You are the Marquis?”
He couldn’t help a grin at her utter shock. “You sound as though you’ve heard of me.”
“Who hasn’t?” she said with a laugh. “Even a visitor such as myself has heard about the escapades of the rakish Lord Woodbury.”
His smile fell as did his spirits. In the end, it always came down to this. “Ah, my reputation.”
For a moment, she only stared at him with her head cocked and little curls tumbling down one shoulder in a most tantalizing fashion. But even still, there was something serious about her expression. Like she was sizing him up and he was desperate to know what conclusion she had reached.
“Well…” She placed a fingertip on her chin as if in deep thought. “Do you promise not to molest me while you walk me home, my lord?”
He choked on his surprised laughter, but her question forced sudden, heated images to his mind that he had been fighting with desperation. Obviously this was a losing battle. He was destined to picture the lovely Marion Hawthorne in various states of undress and pleasure.
He swallowed. “I think I’ll be able to manage in the two miles we’ll walk together, yes.”
“Then I suppose I’ll allow you to escort me,” she said with a playful curtsey. “As long as it’s on your way.”
“It is.” He caught Phantom’s reins in one hand and offered her his opposite arm. “In fact, I was off to visit your host when I came upon you.”
“Hmm, that is one way to put it,” she muttered, almost as if she believed he couldn’t hear her when she was standing less than a stone’s throw from her side.
“What was that?” He tilted his head a fraction.
Her face darkened with embarrassed color. “Nothing.”
Noah smiled. No, this young woman was not the usual country miss or city chit. She was entirely original. Unfortunately, that kind of sparkle had always drawn him like a moth to a flame, and usually to the very wrong kind of women. Now he felt that draw to play the rake. Perhaps Charlotte was right, perhaps he would never be able to settle down.
But then again, perhaps his attraction to the young woman had nothing to do with his ability to be faithful. After all, in just a few short weeks he could be tied to one woman forever. That idea would panic the best of men!
>
“You certainly don’t fill the air with chatter, that’s one thing I can say about you,” Marion said. “In fact, you seem to have forgotten about me entirely.”
“I doubt anyone could forget they were walking beside you.” Noah cast her a sly smile. He’d never promised Charlotte he wouldn’t flirt a little. What harm could there be in that?
To his surprise, she let out a soft burst of friendly laughter. “I suppose this is where I’m to break into titters of girlish glee? Normally, I would my lord, but if you’ll forgive me I’ve had a rather trying morning.”
A strange sting whooshed through him that his most dashing manners had no affect on the young woman at his side. In fact, she seemed to find them amusing! He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been able to charm a lady.
Troubled, he decided to refocus on his case. Somehow in the rush of this encounter, he had all but forgotten that she was staying with a potential murderer.
“Your family must be old friends with Mr. Lucas.” He tossed a sidelong glance in her direction.
She met his gaze. “And why would you assume that?”
“You are staying with him, so I thought…”
She smiled and her face glowed. The warmth in her expression made Noah want to smile in return.
“Mr. Lucas and my father have some kind of business together,” she said. “But up until a week ago I’d never even heard the man’s name. Why Papa insisted on my accompanying him to Woodbury is beyond my comprehension.”
Noah frowned again as his intuition pricked. “You don’t normally come with your father on business?”
She laughed but the sound was surprisingly bitter.
“No, Papa generally doesn’t care what I do…” she trailed off with a frown. “That was an idiotic thing to say, Marion.”
“Not idiotic, just honest,” Noah said as they entered the last leg of their short walk.
“Honesty is not often valued in a young lady.” Marion shrugged one slender shoulder. “And I shouldn’t speak so freely in front of a person who I’ve just met.”
Noah found himself wishing he did know her a bit better, that she trusted him to tell him more about her father or the reason behind the flash of sadness in her eyes. But there was no sense in desiring a closer relationship with the young lady… except to garner information for his investigation.
“Here we are.” She nodded to the large house looming in the distance. “Toppleton Square.”
Noah nodded as he looked around the estate. He vaguely remembered the place from his childhood. His father had attempted to teach him about his surroundings, but at the time those details had seemed boring and inconsequential. Any knowledge about the house certainly would have helped him now.
He shook off his regrets before they led to more thoughts of his late father.
“What kind of business is your father in?” he asked.
She kept her eyes focused on the house as she answered, “My father is invested in textiles in Northumberland. In a little hamlet called Holyworth.”
Noah wrinkled his brow. Josiah Lucas was heavily invested in coal. It made no sense why the two men would be in business together. Especially the kind of affiliation that would lead Hawthorne to drag his daughter to Woodbury. Their association must involve something outside of their normal trades. Now the trick was to find out how the two were linked and if it had anything to do with Georgina Ross’s death.
They finally reached the road and passed through Josiah Lucas’s gate just as the afternoon sun was covered by a cloud. Marion looked up at the sky with an accusatory scowl. “Looks like it will rain.”
“It is England,” Noah said. He’d been to places in the world where rain rarely fell, so when it did, he rather enjoyed it.
“I shall be trapped in the house all day,” he heard Marion mutter under her breath before she approached the house. Before he could ask her about her statement, the front door flew open.
“Marion Hawthorne, where have you been?” the man at the top of the stair bellowed, his red face darkening even further. “Running off like that without a word for anyone. Could you be any more disgraceful to me or to your host?”
Marion stiffened at Noah’s side, then she pulled away from his arm and took a step toward the man. Noah was hit by strange urge to pull her back to his side to protect her.
“Oh, Papa, I only went for a walk. I lost track of the time, but I cannot believe it warrants such…”
“You shut your mouth!” the man barked. “I will decide what warrants…”
“It’s my fault, Mr. Hawthorne,” Noah interjected, unwilling to let the irrational, cruel tirade continue. He stepped forward. “I met Miss Marion at the lake and my horse was not very well behaved. I’m afraid I forced her to keep me company on the walk back to Toppleton Square.”
Hawthorne, who had been focused entirely on his daughter, now looked at Noah with a glare. “And just who might you be, sir?”
Noah drew himself to his full height, taller than the other man by more than a head. “I am Noah Jordan, the Marquis of Woodbury.”
The man’s mouth fell open as if on a hinge and he stared at Noah with wide, unblinking eyes. Noah could have sworn Marion stifled a smile in her palm and a rush of giddy triumph filled him. He’d made her laugh, even after she had been publicly berated.
“My lord,” the man finally stammered as he came down to the lowest step with a bow. “My apologies. I had no idea…”
Noah waved off the rest of the man’s explanations. “I’m here to meet Mr. Lucas. Why don’t we enter and I’ll leave a card to ascertain if he’ll receive me.”
Marion’s father nodded.
They entered the house and a harried butler approached. “Mr. Hawthorne, Miss Marion and…” he trailed off with a nod for Noah.
“The Marquis of Woodbury,” Noah said with a bored smile as he held out his card, amused when the butler nearly tripped at the sound of his name. “To see Mr. Lucas.”
The man bowed to Noah. “Yes, my lord. I shall see if my master is in at once.”
“Do that.”
“Marion,” Hawthorne growled. She jumped just the tiniest bit at his sharp tone. “Go upstairs and make yourself respectable. You look like a ragamuffin!”
“Yes, Papa,” she replied with a dutiful smile, though Noah saw that the expression covered embarrassment. She turned to him and her eyes softened. “It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, my lord.”
Noah nodded, but found he wasn’t overly anxious to see her go. “The pleasure was entirely mine.”
“Good day.” With that, she turned and hurried up the stairs with her father glowering at her the entire time.
***
Marion ran the brush through her hair one last time before she gathered her locks into a neat twist. Her father could have no quarrel with her looks now. She’d taken a bit of extra time cleaning herself up. Even a rake like the Marquis would have to appreciate her efforts.
“Now why would you think a thing like that?” she asked with a frown for her reflection.
But thoughts of Noah Jordan had been in the front of her mind since she’d left his side. With his stunning good looks and ability to make her laugh, the man was hard not to consider. Even her humiliation during her father’s tirade had been eased when the Marquis set her father down just as handily. She grinned as she remembered Walter Hawthorne gaping like a fish when he realized Marion’s savior had been the very handsome Marquis he so wished to impress.
A soft knock at her door interrupted her musings. Sally, the maid who had been helping her since her arrival, entered with a quick curtsey.
“Miss Marion, your presence is requested downstairs in the Blue Room.”
“My presence? My father is asking for me?” It was hard to believe that. As always, he seemed anxious to be rid of her.
“No, miss. The Marquis himself is asking that you join them for tea.”
Marion’s heart leapt. He had asked for her! “I’ll be r
ight down, thank you.”
Once the girl left, Marion took another long look at herself in the mirror. Ridiculous as it seemed, she wanted to make a good impression. But why? Since when did she care what some ill-reputed man so high above her rank thought of her?
Shaking her head because she had no answer to the question, Marion hurried from the room and down the stairs. At the door to the Blue Room she heard masculine voices talking from within. When Noah Jordan spoke, there was a flutter in her stomach.
Chiding herself for being silly, Marion pushed the door open and stepped inside. A man like Noah Jordan would never be someone she could care for. The idea was entirely impossible.
Chapter Three
Noah anticipated Marion’s appearance long before she slipped into the drawing room. And the smile she gave him when she finally did left an odd sensation in his chest. She was fresh, like a spring breeze. One that hadn’t blown through his life in quite some time. If ever.
Noah noticed that Josiah Lucas followed his line of vision to the door. There was possessiveness on his face as he rose to his feet.
“Ah, Miss Marion,” Josiah said. “How lovely you look, and how nice it is for you to join us in our tea. A lady’s presence has been sorely missed in these halls since my wife passed.”
Apprehension flickered across Marion’s face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lucas, I hadn’t realized your wife had died. Your daughter must give you all the more comfort then.”
Noah leaned forward, interested by the discussion. Whether Marion knew it or not, she was giving him details for his case.
Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “My wife could not give me heirs, Miss Marion. I have no children.”
“I beg your pardon.” Marion’s cheeks darkened with embarrassed heat. “I thought the portrait in your sitting room…”
“That was my wife.” Lucas’s voice was cold as he motioned for her to sit down on the settee beside her father. As she did so, Noah noticed the two men exchanged a long look before they glanced at her in unison.
To his horror, Noah realized in a heartbeat what the truth behind their “business” was. Hawthorne was making a marriage arrangement between Josiah Lucas and his daughter. A shot of anger pulsed through Noah at the vile thought.
The Temptation of a Gentleman Page 2
