Bedding Lord Ned

by Sally MacKenzie

  Ellie wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid I’d rather have been talking to you than Mr. Cox or Mr. Humphrey.”

  He sent her a sidelong look. “Cox and Humphrey aren’t the only eligible males here.”

  “No, but you can’t think I’d be interested in marrying Jack!” She laughed. “Whatever you do, don’t mention that notion to him—he’d be horrified.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of Jack.”

  She looked at him uneasily. “And not Percy either.” The thought was nauseating—and, in any event, after Ash heard what she had to say, there might not be anything of Percy left to marry.

  He chuckled. “No, not Percy, either. I can see why Mama has been tearing her hair out over you.”

  She decided to let the matter drop. She needed to discuss Percy’s perfidy, not possible proposals, and she wouldn’t have that much more time alone with Ash to do so. “Actually, it’s Percy I wish to talk to you about.”

  Ash’s expression hardened. “I’d much prefer not discuss him. He quite sours my mood.”

  It was true Percy’s biggest conflicts had always been with Ash—and then Jess would take Ash’s side, and Percy would become even angrier.

  “I’m sorry, but I think you should know what I overheard this morning.” She stopped and turned so she could see if anyone was close enough to eavesdrop.

  Percy was still by the bonfire, thank God, talking to Lady Heldon and Miss Mosely, and Ned ... oh, dear. Ned was striding along the bank, skates slung over his shoulder, glaring at her. He’d likely be out as quickly as he could to tell them to move away from the thin ice. But at least there was no one else about. Miss Wharton and Mr. Humphrey were the only two skaters at all nearby, and they weren’t yet in earshot.

  She didn’t have much time to talk to Ash.

  “I’d rather not know,” Ash said. “Conversations that include Percy are rarely pleasant.”

  “But, Ash, he encouraged Lady Heldon to wheedle an invitation from your mother for this party. He wanted her to try to sedu—” She bit her lip. Ash’s face was expressionless as if he expected her to say what she was going to say, but she still couldn’t say it. “—to try to make you do something you shouldn’t. Something Jess wouldn’t like.”

  She thought pain flashed through his eyes, but it was gone before she could be certain. “I very much doubt Jess cares what I do.”

  “No! How can you say that? Of course she cares. She loves you.”

  Ash’s brow rose, his face as hard as granite. He’d always hidden his feelings much deeper than Ned or Jack. “Oh? She’s told you that, has she? Just recently?”

  His tone was pleasant, but there was something dark, almost savage, there, too. Ellie sucked in her breath. She was suddenly just a little afraid of him. “N-no.”

  Ash stared at her a moment more, and then his expression relaxed. “Forgive me. I know you mean well, Ellie, but—” He shook his head. “Just leave it be, all right?”

  “But, Ash, I think Percy may have something to do with the problem—whatever it is—between you and Jess.”

  “Of course he does.”

  She gasped. “What?”

  “You don’t think I just—” Ash pressed his lips together, and then smiled and shrugged. “I do thank you for your concern, Ellie, but there’s nothing you can do.”

  Ellie felt as if she’d just had a door slammed in her face, but she refused to give up. “P-perhaps if you talked to Jess—”

  Ash put a gloved finger to her lips. “I will. Jack told me that the rumors in London have got out of control now that I’m turning thirty. It’s clearly time—past time—to resolve the situation. I plan to leave for Blackweith as soon as this party is over.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s good.” Except she felt certain that by “resolve the situation,” Ash meant end his marriage, if not legally, then emotionally, and while Ellie might not be able to swear Jess loved Ash, she’d wager every penny she had that Ash still loved Jess.

  She looked away over the pond. Ned had his skates on now, but was still on the bank, impatiently talking to his mother. Percy was by the bonfire, and Mr. Humphrey and Miss Wharton—oh, dear.

  Miss Wharton was out of control and screaming toward the thin ice. “Aieee!” She had a very healthy pair of lungs.

  Ash started to turn, but since Ellie was facing that way, she reacted faster. She darted forward.

  “What—” Ash reached for her, but slipped on the ice. She was past him in a flash.

  “Ellie, don’t!” That was Ned. He was worrying again, but he needn’t do so. She was just going to push Miss Wharton out of harm’s way.

  Which she did. Unfortunately, she also tripped on one of Miss Wharton’s skates. She stumbled, tried desperately to regain her balance, and fell heavily, sliding under the ropes.

  She heard an ominous crack and felt the ice shift.

  “Ellie!” Ned sounded as if he were right next to her. He couldn’t have got there that quickly.

  She raised her head—and felt the ice crack more.

  “Don’t move!” he shouted, and then his voice grew calm. “Lay perfectly still, Ellie. Put your head back down and stay as flat as possible.”

  “Oh, Miss Bowman, I’m so—”

  “Get back, Miss Wharton. Everyone back to the bonfire.” Ned’s tone brooked no argument.

  “But, Lord Edward,” Mr. Humphrey began, “I believe I can—”

  “Yes, Humphrey.” That was Ash. “We all want to help, and the way we can do that is to go over to the bank as Ned said, thereby taking our weight off the ice and not distracting Ned or Ellie.”

  “Ah, yes, well, I see that might be a wise decision; however, I do want to make it perfectly clear that I am more than willing to do whatever I can to assist Lord Edward in his valiant attempt to rescue poor Miss Bowman. I believe ...”

  Mr. Humphrey’s voice faded as Ash shepherded him away, thank God. Ellie’s heart was pounding, but she kept the rest of her body as still as she could. “N-Ned?”

  “I’m lying down on the firm ice, Ellie.” His voice was so reassuring. “I’m going to grab your ankles and pull you back. Don’t try to help me. As long as you stay flat, you’ll be fine.”

  “Y-yes.” She must not panic. Ned was here. He would save her. This would be far easier than the time he rescued Ash. She hadn’t fallen into the water ... yet. “All right.”

  Ned’s large hands wrapped around her ankles. It was a sign of her insane attraction to him that she felt a little thrill. Good God! Here she was, inches from plunging into frigid water, at risk of drowning or freezing to death, and she was thinking how strong Ned’s grip was.

  Well, perhaps lustful thoughts were better than panicked thoughts.

  “I’m going to start pulling now, Ellie. This will go very slowly as it’s hard for me to get purchase, and I don’t know if your fall damaged the ice on this side of the rope as well. I don’t want to risk dunking us both. So be patient—and keep still.”

  “I-I understand.”

  “Good. You’re doing a splendid job.”

  She felt Ned tug, and she slipped an inch closer to safety. He pulled again, and she moved a little more. Unfortunately, it felt as if her chemise and dress were not keeping pace. Another tug and she was certain of it. An icy breeze slipped over the back of her calves.

  Her blush risked melting the fragile ice under her. “N-Ned?”

  He grunted and pulled again. Now she felt the cold air on the back of her knees. “Ned!”

  “What is it?” He sounded very annoyed.

  Couldn’t he see the problem? “My skirts are riding up. It can’t be quite ... proper.” She felt foolish raising the issue, but she also didn’t care for Percy and Mr. Cox and Mr. Humphrey—well, even Ash and Jack and the duke—seeing her legs.

  For some reason, she didn’t mind so much Ned seeing them. Well, he had no choice, if he was going to save her. She was just being reasonable.

  She didn’t feel reasonable, though. She felt oddly excited.<
br />
  “I’m afraid I can’t reach them to brush them back in place.” Ned’s voice sounded slightly breathless—he was probably so angry with her he was having a hard time speaking. “I’m more interested in saving your life than your modesty, Ellie.”

  “Y-yes. Of course. I realize that. I just thought ...” What did it matter? This embarrassment was minor compared to what she would feel when Percy flashed her red drawers around the company. “Never mind. Please, carry on.”

  He tugged again. Soon her thighs would be displayed. She moaned as quietly as she could. At least she was wearing a pair of flannel drawers; she wouldn’t be completely naked.

  What if she’d been wearing her red silk drawers?

  Ohh. She bit her lip.

  “Take heart, Ellie. It looks as if Mama has noticed the problem,” Ned said. “She’s ushered everyone to the other side of the bonfire. Only Ash is left to keep watch if I need help.”

  “Oh.” That was good. She didn’t mind Ash seeing her legs so very much. At least he was married, not that she was naïve enough to think that made a lot of difference, but somehow it seemed more respectable.

  “I think we’re past the most dangerous part now,” Ned said, “so I’m going to try to move more quickly. You must continue to lie still, though. Let me do everything. Don’t try to get up.”

  “Yes, I understand.” Her waist had reached the ropes. Fortunately when she fell, she hadn’t slipped far.

  Ned pulled steadily now, and she slid closer to safety—as her skirts slid farther up her legs. Now they were bunched around her waist: her entire backside greeted the afternoon sun. But at least her shoulders were past the ropes.

  “I think you’re finally off the dangerous ice, Ellie, but don’t try to stand yet. I want you to roll toward me, just like we used to do on the lawn in the summer when we were children. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  It took her a moment to get started, but then she was rolling over and over as though she were again tumbling down the grassy hill by the formal gardens while the duke and duchess sat drinking tea and brandy on the terrace.

  She bumped into Ned.

  “Thank God,” he said and threw his arms around her, crushing her against him so she could barely breathe.

  She buried her face in his coat and hugged him back. She didn’t care that they were both cold and damp and sprawled on the ice; she didn’t even care any longer that her legs were exposed to the world. She was safe; she was alive; and, best of all, she was in Ned’s arms.

  He jerked back. Was he going to kiss her?

  No, of course not. He was going to read her a thundering scold.

  He pushed himself to a sitting position and then hauled her up beside him, grasping her shoulders.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing, Ellie? Did you consider for even one moment before you rushed headlong into hare-brained, beef-witted, idiotic action?” His grip was hard; his fingers would have left bruises if it weren’t for her thick cloak.

  “I was trying to save Miss Wharton.”

  It was doubtful Ned heard her; he continued his tirade without the slightest pause.

  “Oh, no, you didn’t think at all. Ash was right there beside you, for God’s sake. He should have been the one to do something, not you. And I was on my way to intercept Miss Wharton as well. But it’s all of a piece, isn’t it? You think nothing of decorum, let alone safety.”

  “B-but—” She wanted to be angry, but she knew she was going to cry. She bit her lip, willing the tears not to fall.

  “I don’t know what the hell has got into you, Ellie. You didn’t use to be this way.” He started to shake her—not hard, but she could tell he was holding back. “And now I suppose you’ll risk your damn life again and go barreling down the hill on Jack’s sledge and end up on the blasted pond and this time you’ll fall through and die.”

  “N-no. I won’t.”

  “You won’t? You will. If you’d landed with more force or directly on the thin ice this time, you’d have broken through at once.”

  “I-I meant I won’t sled.”

  “Well, thank God for that. If—”

  “Ned.” Ash had skated out to them. “You just saved the girl’s life; don’t kill her.”

  Ned glared up at Ash. “I’m not going to kill her.” He got to his feet and then pulled Ellie up.

  Ash held up his hands. “And don’t kill me, either.”

  “Bloody hell, Ash. You saw what she did.”

  “Yes.” Ash smiled at Ellie, which made her feel a little less like crying. “She thought quickly, acted valiantly, and I believe saved Miss Wharton’s life—or at least saved her from a very uncomfortable dunk in ice water.” He smiled. “And I know whereof I speak.”

  “There is nothing amusing about this.” The vein in Ned’s temple was throbbing. “Ellie could have died.”

  Ellie didn’t particularly like being discussed while she was standing there, but at the moment being ignored was good. She was still struggling to curb her tears.

  “But she didn’t die. She’s safe, Ned. You saved her. It’s over. You can relax. Look, everyone is cheering.”

  It was true. Now that she was safe—and her skirts were safely where they belonged—the duchess had let everyone come back to stand on the bank at the near end of the pond. They were all—even Percy—shouting and clapping.

  “Idiots. Bloody idiots.” Ned pushed Ellie toward Ash; she stumbled a little, and Ash’s arm came round her to steady her.

  “They’re clapping for you, too, Ned,” Ash said. “Come have some cider and put this behind you.”

  “No.” Ned shook his head. “I can’t. Not yet. I’m too ...” He shuddered.

  “Ned.” Ellie had finally wrestled her tears down. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head again and stepped back.

  “And I won’t sled. I promise.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.” His nostrils flared as if he were still struggling to control his spleen. “And I’m sorry for losing my temper just now. I worry—” His mouth tightened.

  “I know.” She put a hand on his arm. “Thank you for worrying. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there to take charge when I fell.”

  “Come on, Ned,” Ash said. “Let’s get off the ice.”

  Ned shook his head once more. “No.” He looked at the people on the bank and backed up another step, slipping free of Ellie’s hold. “I need to be alone for a while.” He turned and skated off across the pond.

  Ellie watched him go, her heart tight. She hated to see him this way. “Ned’s right. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

  “Nonsense.” Ash took her arm and started back toward the rest of the party. “I’m quite sure Miss Wharton does not agree.” He looked down at her. “I will tell you, though, that you likely took ten years off my life. And I’m more than a little chagrined. Ned was right—I should have been the one going to Miss Wharton’s assistance, not you.”

  “No, Ash. I was facing her; I saw the danger first.”

  “Well, I’m not going to argue with you; I will save my wits for when I have to face Ned.”

  Ellie frowned. “You mustn’t let Ned browbeat you.”

  “Oh, Ellie, I’m not afraid of my younger brother,” Ash said, laughing. His expression turned serious. “But in this instance, I will have to agree with him.”

  “But—”

  “No, I refuse to brangle with you. Come along now and greet your adoring public.”

  Ned wanted to rush over the ice as if all the demons of hell were after him, but he’d already created enough of a spectacle for one day. He forced his legs to move smoothly and hold at least a momentary glide.

  If only he’d been a little quicker—if only Mama hadn’t insisted on talking to him—he would have reached Miss Wharton, caught her, and turned her away from danger before Ellie had even got close. The entire drama would have been avoided.

  He closed his e
yes briefly. Zeus, he hoped never to live through anything like that again. Just the memory made him feel lightheaded. It had been almost as bad as when Cicely died. His heart had literally stopped when he’d seen Ellie trip and slide under the warning ropes. And when he’d heard the ice crack ...

  He took a couple deep breaths.

  When he’d heard that sound, all the blood had drained from his head and then surged back to try to pound its way out through the space between his brows.

  Somehow—he’d no idea how—he’d found a way to remain calm. He’d known he had to move slowly and deliberately, but those minutes pulling Ellie to safety had seemed like hours. No, years.

  And then he’d ripped up at her. Damn it, she’d deserved every harsh word, but he could see she’d been close to tears.

  He felt like a beast.

  He reached the bank and sat on a rock to pull off his skates. Everyone on the other side of the pond was gathered around Ellie, probably telling her what a brave, wonderful thing she’d done.

  It had been brave—but it had also been incredibly stupid.

  Mama was the only one looking his way. He could tell she was worried about him—he could see her tense expression even at this distance. He should walk over, join the group, reassure her.

  He could no more do that than he could sprout wings and fly back to Linden Hall.

  He stood and brushed snow off his coat. He wished he could fly away, back to the quiet and peace of his estate. His life was so much calmer there. No one bothered him. His servants were all well trained; his tenants happy. He saw that everything ran smoothly so there was never anything to worry about. He anticipated issues and attended to them before they became problems.

  Back at Linden Hall, he knew exactly what his day would be like. He knew when and where he had to be at every moment. And when his work was done, he could read quietly in his study, a glass of brandy at his elbow. He could stroll his gardens or ride over his grounds without his heart ever once trying to slam its way out of his chest. There was no thieving cat; no matchmaking mother; no scheming brother-in-law; and, most importantly, no headstrong, misguided, maddening woman.