James glanced up at her. "Nothing's changed, you know. I didn't turn into some ravening brigand overnight who can't control himself at the sight of a woman's bare wrist."
"You're right…"
"But?"
"But it's all so improper. I know I must sound like that London miss you were making fun of earlier, but it is. We're not married, you've nearly seen me naked, and we've spent so much time alone. If anyone were here to see it, I'd be quite ruined, wouldn't I?"
James set aside the blanket and came over to her. She blinked when he cupped the side of her face with his hand, but she couldn't resist tilting her face toward his touch.
"Jo, there's nothing in the world that could ruin you. Nothing at all. Not as strong and tough and kind as you are. Ruination's for lesser beings entirely, I swear it. But... if you are worried about it, if this comes back to haunt you, I'll marry you."
Jo stared at James for a moment, and then she broke into peals of laughter. James made a noise of displeasure, sounding not unlike Gunner when they had passed a tree he did not especially care for the day before, and Jo only laughed harder.
When she finally managed to calm her hilarity, she grinned at him.
"You really do know how to make a situation lighter, don't you?"
James raised an eyebrow. "I was quite serious, and if you think that my fortune doesn't stand up to your breeding..."
"No! I'm sure that if we were to put you out for stud, you'd command an amazing price, but it's ludicrous, isn't it? You have a life in London that involves all sorts of mysterious doings and Parliament and entertaining, and though my uncle tells me that I will be well taken care of, it can't compare."
"There are things that are more important than a fortune, Jo."
"Of course, but it's ludicrous, isn't it? But thank you for the laugh. I think I needed it."
"I live to serve."
Jo was still laughing as she stripped to her shift. She mentally thanked Clarine Waters again for the wool clothes that, though heavy when wet, did wick the moisture away from her undergarments.
She spread her garments on the ground to dry, watching as James, dressed only in his breeches, did the same. Her thoughts turned to what she’d said earlier, about what stud fees he might command, and then she blushed so hard he had to ask her if something was wrong.
* * *
13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
.
.
.
* * *
* * *
.
James was amused when Jo fell asleep in the blanket nest as soon as she had seen to her clothes, curling up in them with a yawn. He supposed that was what they called the sleep of the innocent, and no matter what Jo had been through or what hardships she had suffered, that was exactly what she was.
The same, however, could not be said for him, and he paced their small space a little before finally lying down next to her.
They were returning to London, and even though they were taking the winding back roads, they would likely be there in a few days, certainly no more than a week. London, where everything could change.
There was no law that prevented him from returning to London, none at all. He was a peer of the realm, and though what he had done was not precisely approved by Crown and church, neither was it illegal.
He had left because Society would not stop talking and because it was tiresome, not because he was in any way socially ruined. He had figured if he stayed away for a while that Society would find something new to talk about, but it hadn't been all that long.
James was painfully aware of the fact that he wasn't worried about what the members of the ton would say to him. He was worried about how it would affect how Jo looked at him. God, he loved the way she looked at him. Most of the women of his acquaintance looked at him with calculation in their eyes. They were wary of his reputation or enamored with it; they were seeking an assignation or a marriage. There was little beyond that, and he’d had no idea how very bored he was with that before he met Jo. She looked at him with anger, with a desperate need for his help, with a melting passion he wasn't even sure she understood yet, and with hilarity, but there was so much to it. There was so much to her. James knew that he could spend the rest of his life with her and never come to the end of the secrets in her heart, or the joy.
It was amusing, he decided, that she had laughed her head off when he suggested marriage. There were plenty of Society girls who would have leaped at the offer, even if they'd had to flee to Gretna Green, to be his wife. Despite his reputation in London, he was reckoned to be an impressive catch, with a great fortune, plenty of property, and good looks. To Jo... it was a joke, and James couldn't help but smile a little at it.
Well, it was hardly the most romantic proposal. Next time, when this is all settled, I will do better.
Jo murmured in her sleep, and he held her close. Just this morning, she had been kidnapped right out of the inn where they were staying, and he had nearly lost his mind with fear. He never wanted to feel like that again.
I suppose that means the best response is to make sure she's never taken from me again.
* * *
At some point, the rain stopped. James came awake to a chill in the air, and an utter blackness that was only relieved by a few stray moonbeams coming in the high narrow window opposite their makeshift bed.
A full moon. He would have tried to go back to sleep if he hadn't heard the stirring of hooves and a quiet snorting below.
He came awake in an instant. Horses slept through the night under most normal circumstances; there was no reason for Tempest or Gunner to be stirring at all. That meant there was something wrong, and James tensed, slipping away from Jo carefully. He thanked heaven for her exhaustion because it allowed him to dress hastily and to descend the stairs, pistol in his hand but down by his thigh.
The first thing he saw was that there was a soft light in the lower level of the ruin, and the second thing he realized was that there was a man in a greatcoat standing between the horses.
"Whoever you are, step away from the horses."
The man in the greatcoat paused, and for a moment, James was tensed for him to attack or to draw a pistol or any number of things.
Then, his hands up slightly, he stepped away from the horses, coming to stand closer to the light of the lantern he’d left at the door.
"I'm afraid you have the advantage over me," the stranger drawled. "Since this land and this structure are mine, you're the odd one out, you and your companion."
The man was about James’ age, fair where James was dark, and the slight sardonic twist to his lips looked slightly familiar.
"Dear God, you're Samuel Winthrop.”
The Earl of Huntingdon inclined his head slightly.
"Nice to be recognized, I suppose. Society has a longer memory than I would have thought."
James shrugged. "One could hardly hear about your departure from London and not mark it."
The more he remembered about that departure, however, the less likely it was that Samuel Winthrop wanted to speak about it.
"Society gossip is less important to be right now than who you are and what you are doing here. I am not armed, but I will tell you that I do not suffer poachers and thieves lightly."
James grinned. "Well, what a good thing it is that we are neither. If we have disturbed your plans for this wreck, I offer my deepest apologies."
"It is rather wretched, isn't it? I was walking past, and I heard the horses. I was actually half expecting them to be ghosts or something similar. Imagine my surprise when I found that they were real and so are you."
"Well, my companion and I were heading to London, and the deluge caught us—"
"James? James, what's going on?"
Both men looked up to see Jo on the step, barefoot and dressed in nothing but her shift, her auburn hair a thick rope over her shoulder. She widened her eyes when she saw another man with James, and fast as a ra
bbit, she darted back upstairs.
"It's fine, we've just found a missing peer of the realm."
"I was never missing. I always knew where I was."
"Well, that's fine for you, but it was all the papers could talk about for weeks."
"And I don't care to talk about it at all. So, that girl..."
James scrubbed his hands over his face.
"It's not what it looks like. I'm just playing escort to get her to London."
The Earl of Huntingdon glanced up at the ceiling wryly, where Jo was presumably getting dressed as quickly as she could. James knew exactly what it looked like, and escorting had nothing to do with it.
James wasn't sure he had ever worried about ruining a woman before, but now it struck him with the force of a blow how very vulnerable Jo was in this situation. Against all odds, they had been found by a member of Society, or perhaps it was against all odds that they had made it this long.
James took a step toward the earl, his hands curling into fists. "She's a fine and virtuous girl from West Riding, the daughter of a marquess. This may look... questionable... but she has done nothing but act in an honorable manner. If you say otherwise or if I even hear of you saying otherwise, I will call you out for satisfaction on a field of honor."
The earl gave him a cool look.
"You must be James Finley, Earl of Westmont. I may not be as wrapped up in the life of London as I once was, but I hear things. Is it wise to return to London so soon?"
James nearly snarled at the other man. "That is none of your concern."
Before the earl could answer, Jo appeared on the steps again, this time dressed in her slightly soggy riding attire. She walked as straight and tall as a young queen despite her bedraggled appearance, and she came to stand next to James.
James glared at the earl.
"Lord Huntingdon, may I present my traveling companion, Jo Smith."
James was relieved when Jo did not look surprised at his giving her a commoner's address. It may not be enough to save her reputation if it turned out that Lord Huntingdon was inclined to gossip, but it was better than nothing.
For his part, Lord Huntingdon smiled at Jo with something like real warmth, taking her hand and bowing over it as if they were at a salon in town.
"I am charmed to meet you, Miss Smith. I am only glad that this old property gave you some comfort in the deluge."
Jo smiled, her natural friendliness rising to the fore. "Oh, this is your place, my lord? I am sorry we were not able to notify you before we appeared."
"Nonsense, of course, you are welcome. Though my house in the country is less grand than what I keep when I am in London, it will be more comfortable than this place. Will you both allow me to offer you better accommodations while you are on Huntingdon land?"
Jo and James exchanged a look, and James nodded.
"We'd be honored."
Outside, the moon had risen and turned the woods and nearby fields as bright as day. Lord Huntingdon rode ahead with his lantern to show them the way.
From Tempest's back, Jo leaned closer to James.
"What in the world was a lord doing riding so late at night?"
James shrugged. "Visiting a mistress, seeing about poachers? All I care about is how he treats you."
"Just so you both know, I have better ears than you might think, and I will, of course, treat you both as honored guests."
Jo blushed, but James laughed. He wasn't sure of the mysterious Earl of Huntingdon, who had disappeared from London amidst scandal a few years ago, but damned if he wasn't beginning to like the man.
* * *
14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
.
.
.
* * *
* * *
.
Jo had been more than a little shocked when she ventured down from a restless sleep in her under-garments to find that James wasn't alone, and she had been a little anxious about the odd earl, but she couldn't deny that he treated his guests well.
His country house was still luxurious by Yorkshire standards, and he had put them in separate rooms in the guest wing. She knew that it was only right and proper, but a rather large part of her had gotten used to sleeping with James in a very short amount of time.
The Earl of Huntingdon kept them for two days, and when she and James announced their departure, he had sent them out with provisions and directions that would take them to London quickly, all while avoiding the main roads.
When she thanked him for his help, he looked pleased, though he only shrugged.
"I see few enough people out here that I think are worth speaking to at all. It seems to me that you and Lord Westmont are among that rare few."
"Regardless, you have my thanks."
As they rode away from the Huntingdon lands, she couldn't help glancing back at the house.
"What a strange man."
James snorted. "Strange isn't the word. I don't think anyone quite knows what the hell happened in that knot of scandal that made him leave London years ago. Maybe he doesn't even know."
"I think he does. And I hope he finds what he's looking for out here, wandering the woods at night."
Two days after they left Huntingdon, Jo wasn't thinking about the earl anymore. Instead, she was watching the great city rise up like a beast in front of them, seeing the great tide of people and houses and shops sprawled out, hearing and smelling the difference between the city and the country where she had lived all her life.
Tempest seemed to like it as little as she did, and the mare was restive under her hand, starting and flinching from every new thing she saw. The nerves that would serve her so well in battle were being tested and abused now, as she and her rider had to get used to the noise and the bustle of the largest city in the world.
James, for his part, looked entirely at his ease as they came into the city, and she might have hated him just a little for it if he hadn't looked at her with sympathy just that moment.
"It's a rather lot to take in, isn't it?"
"I've been to cities before... or at least, I thought that I had been to cities before. London's different."
"London's like anything else in the world, so believe me, there is no shame in being a little startled. Are you all right?"
"I am, or I will be."
James took a closer look at her and shook his head.
"I think I'm about ready for some lunch, and since we are not in the country anymore, we don't have to buy our supper from some little stand by the road. Come on. We'll rest the horses, and I'll buy you your first London meat pie, how's that sound?"
It sounded far better than being on a street that seemed crowded shoulder to shoulder with people, their belongings, and their animals, and the public-house he brought them to at least had a safe and sheltered place for Gunner and Tempest.
"Just try to get used to things, darling, I'll be back soon," she whispered to Tempest, and it struck her with another pang that her days, perhaps even her hours, with her mare were numbered. She pushed it aside, because that was what she had come to London to do, wasn't it?
She waited patiently as James wrote some kind of message, sealed it, and sent it off with a runner.
"Some affairs that I wanted my solicitor to see to. Nothing to worry about. Now let's see about getting you something to eat..."
Just as they were inside the door, however, Jo saw two young men who were getting a start on their drinking for the day. Apparently, drunks in London were the same as drunks in Yorkshire, and making a face, she started to move away. Then she realized that James hadn't followed her and instead was slowly turning toward the two men, who, all unheeding, were still talking.
"And, of course, he fled the city after the duel, couldn't stand to show his face."
"With an actress for a mother, I wonder that he dares to show his face at all."
What the other man would have made of that statement was lost because James simply grabbed th
e speaker by the cravat, pulled him to his feet, and struck him hard enough that he staggered back.
"James!"
James turned to look at her, but then the other man rose up, ready to engage, and the formerly bustling but otherwise peaceful public house turned into a scene of chaos.
* * *
15
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
.
.
.
* * *
* * *
.
James was still vaguely surprised he hadn't been arrested by the constables that appeared on the scene. He probably would have been, and then he would have actually had even more trouble to deal with if it weren't for Jo, who swept in weeping and moaning that those men had attacked her brother when all they'd done was walk in looking for a bit of food.
Somehow, possibly because she was so loud, possibly because they found it as hard to resist Jo's green eyes as he did, they believed her, and the brawl at the Astley public house was written off as the work of drunkards, and no one would ever know that the Earl of Westmont was there at all.
Jo's face was white and still as they rode the rest of the way to his townhouse on Park Lane, and silently, they cared for their mounts before entering the house. He trusted the servants to be discreet, and he sent Jo to one of the guest rooms with the housekeeper.
"After you are rested, perhaps you would join me for dinner?"
Tales of a Viscount_Heirs of High Society Page 29
