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The sun was barely cresting over the tree tops as Gabriel rode over the ridge separating the two estates. Reining in his black stallion, Ajax, he saw Pendleton Grange off to the right. It was just as Miss Pendleton described it, a lovely old manor house, overlooking acres of apple orchards and verdant farmland. He'd seldom seen her while growing up. Tom, the oldest Pendleton boy, was six years his junior while Emily was closer to twelve years. He barely remembered a daughter existed since he'd been away at war for most of the past ten years.
While his gaze lingered over the Grange’s land, Gabriel remembered how interminably long yesterday had seemed. He'd played the perfect host, overseeing the lawn games after lunch, dodging Sylvia's coy smiles and hiding from Freddy. His foppish friend had taken to wearing patches about his face, an old custom the baron said he hoped to revive, and so he kept pestering Gabriel to follow his lead.
He had let Cecil and Deborah orchestrate the evening's entertainment of parlor games and again avoided Freddy when he hinted at sharing another bottle of brandy. Instead, Gabriel retired early. Throughout the day, he'd thought of little else but the sprightly Miss Pendleton and so, immediately after breakfast, Gabriel was in the saddle, headed for Pendleton Grange.
He figured the vivacious Miss Pendleton would be up and planned to seek her company for his dreaded house party in the hopes of enlivening it. With more guests arriving today, Gabriel needed her smiling countenance, her exuberance. As for her suspicion about a conspiracy to do him in, he felt certain he could persuade the petite young lady into believing otherwise.
Gabriel gave Ajax, a dark brown stallion, his head and cantered down a wide bridle path. Breaking through the trees, he came upon Emily purposely striding across the sunny field. She saw him and, waving a large straw hat in the air, hailed him.
“Good morning, my lord."
He noted with disappointment that her wild curls were caught up in a loose bun at the nape of her slender neck. Still, dressed in a green sprigged, muslin frock, she appeared so much a part of the rich foliage of the trees surrounding them.
He reigned in the stallion, guiding Ajax toward her. "You look particularly pretty this fine morn, Miss Pendleton," he said with sincere admiration.
“Oh pooh, what flummery!" she laughed, a little shyly before dismissing his compliment as easy as a saucy remark one of her brothers might have made. "But why are you here?"
“To ask a favor." Dismounting, he kept Ajax's reins in one hand, took her elbow in the other, and began strolling toward the manor house.
“Is it a very big favor?" she asked when he didn't immediately continue.
“Yes. You see, fair damsel, you must rescue me, the benighted warrior, from the company of my dandified friend, who insists I copy his foppish mannerisms, and all the marriage minded females who have besieged my home along with their Machiavellian relatives."
Her tinkling laugh brought his to the surface, and he marveled at how lighthearted he suddenly felt. This young puss was just what Freddy would order to bring him out of the doldrums.
“You must truly be desperate to ride over to plead your case when a servant with a note could have done the same. Have you planned any activities today?"
“Actually, Miss Pendleton, I had thought you might make up one of the house party. 'Twould save you traipsing back and forth, and you'd be well chaperoned," he added to forestall the negative reply her frowning countenance surely meant.
“It might serve another purpose, too, my lord. With an ally in the house, your enemy might be less likely to do you harm."
“What nonsense is this?" he growled, knowing full well her meaning. He dare not let on that her story held any credence for fear she might become embroiled. "I thought you'd put that silly notion to rest."
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him speculatively before retorting, "I did not take you to be obtuse."
“Now listen up, Miss Pendleton." He halted and turned to her. Then grasping her shoulders with both hands, he said, “I'll not have you sneaking about, checking closets and peering behind draperies, trying to discover some nonexistent murderer--"
“My lord, I would never behave so amateurishly!"
He shook his head, completely exasperated, wanting to laugh at her affront, yet knowing he could not. "Suppose I promise that should the need of an expert manifest itself, I'll call in Bow Street. Their runners know how to hunt a man down without causing a hullabaloo."
She tried to pull away, but he held her shoulders fast. Looking into her blue-violet eyes, he reflected on what Lindemann Park would be like over the next week without her presence.
“Miss Pendleton, please don't be angry." When she refused to meet his gaze, he let out a sigh of defeat. After all, with a house party, someone would be with her every minute, so what harm could she possibly do. "I'll let you do all the sleuthing you want, only come and stay the week." He could swear he saw the devilish workings of her mind behind those vibrant eyes as she thought over his invitation and her angry expression changed with lightening speed to one of sheer joy.
“Done!" she squealed with delight and extended her hand to seal their bargain.
Accepting her dainty fingers in his own large hand, he found himself falling into the violet depths of her eyes and felt like a drowning man, floundering without a life line.
“So, what activities do you have planned, my lord?" She gave her hand a small tug, but he continued holding her fingers.
“Fishing on the lake after lunch today, an excursion to Hailes Abbey, but little else is definite beyond that. Nothing too exciting or strenuous, I'm afraid."
“Sounds lovely. I will ride over later this morning."
“I'd hope you'd let your maid bring your things over while you return with me now."
“Let me change into my habit while Marabell is being saddled," she acquiesced.
“Done," Gabriel mimicked her earlier response with a broad smile and a vigorous handshake. He was reluctant to release her and so tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and escorted her back to the manor, with Ajax trailing behind them.
A short while later, the two riders loped across the countryside, enjoying the warmth of the sun at their backs. The Viscount rode his powerful stallion with the assurance and control of a man used to spending long hours in the saddle. Emily's own erect posture and competent seat complimented the dainty lines of her chestnut mare. As they approached a wood that partially hid one side of the large lakes on Lindemann's property, Emily slowed Marabell and pointed toward a break in the trees.
“Who is that man?" she asked.
Drawing his mount up to Emily's mare, Gabriel saw Cecil walking between the half dozen dinghies, lying bottom side up, just above the water line. "That's my cousin, Cecil Caldwell."
He knew his tone conveyed his dislike for his cousin, but Emily's interest in Cecil, who had a reputation with the ladies, irked him. Even from this distance, Cecil's tall, lean build and dark looks showed to advantage.
“Come on." Without any warning, Emily jumped down from Marabell's back, looped the reins about a small bush, and started up the small rise that looked down on the lake.
Wondering what Emily was planning to do, Gabriel followed suit, then overtook her when it became apparent she intended to spy on his cousin. Truth to tell, he thought Cecil's actions were rather circumspect and frankly was curious to discover just what his cousin was doing. One thing was blatantly obvious, however. Miss Emily Pendleton was definitely no shy, retiring Bath miss.
Gabriel reached the top of the rise where a row of hedge bushes provided good cover. Parting aside a few branches, he crouched low and leaned forward for a better look. Emily, one step behind him, rose up on her toes and placed her hands on his shoulders to balance herself. As she leaned toward the opening, her breasts brushed against Gabriel's back. Suddenly, he was more conscious of Emily's nearness, her softness, her fragrance, her femininity than Cecil.
Gabriel forced himself to focus on his
cousin by the water.
He watched as Cecil pulled something from his pocket and bent over the bottom of one boat. It looked as though he was boring a hole in the dinghy, but Gabriel found his concentration once again waning.
“What is he up to?" Emily whispered.
The low pitch of her voice and the warm moisture of her sweet breath bathed his ear. Was she deliberately trying to drive him mad, he wondered as desire surged through his veins.
“Shh, be quiet and watch," he said, inhaling her lilac scent.
“But I cannot see," she complained, pressing against him to peer over his shoulder.
“Miss Pendleton, by Jove, move!"
“What is the matter with you?" she shot back, seemingly unintimidated by his growl.
Gabriel turned his head to confront her eye to eye. It was his undoing as he took in the loose curls framing her flushed face, her deep violet eyes steadily returning his regard. A groan of defeat escaped him as he twisted around on his heels and grabbed her shoulders. She opened her mouth to protest, and his whole being focused on her pinks lips, so very kissable lips. He pulled her to him.
His lips covered hers, and time seemed to stand still. He deepened the kiss and felt her initial feeling of surprise slowly melt as she brought her arms up around his neck and imitated his actions. While his hands caressed her slender neck and loosened the curly tresses from the confining bun, her fingers tentatively explored the smooth texture of his thick hair, the coarser hairs at the nape, then stroked his face with one hand against the roughness of his beard. When his hands descended the column of her neck to explore the neckline of her habit, she moaned.
It was the jolt Gabriel needed to bring him back to earth. Instead of midnight stars and an experienced woman, he saw the late morning sun and an innocent young girl in his arms. The kind that society expected you to marry if you compromised her reputation in any way.
Jumping back, Gabriel exhaled a ragged breath and stared at her. Her chest, too, was heaving, exhibiting the extent of their shared passion. And despite their wild abandonment of propriety, her innocence was very plain for him to see.
“That was wonderful," Emily breathed with stars shining in her eyes.
“Surely, you've been kissed before?"
“Oh yes, but never like that," was her guileless reply.
And that was an understatement, he thought. He'd never become so lost to his passion, either. Still, it was nothing he could admit. "Miss Pendleton, you're quite beyond hope."
Her giggle had a provocative ring to it. "So I have been told. But do call me Emily. Or Em like my brothers do."
He shook his head to clear away the vision of her lying in his bed, her wild curling tresses splayed about her with a few locks covering the enticing mounds of flesh on her heaving chest. This woman-child was most definitely dangerous not only to his physical well being but to his bachelorhood as well. If anyone had come along and espied them thusly, his fate would be sealed.
“Leg-shackled for sure," he muttered under his breath.
“What was that, my lord?" she asked, obviously confused by his angry tone.
Belatedly, he glanced over the embankment where Cecil had been and saw that his cousin had left.
“Come on, Emily. We'd better return before our absences are marked. And by Jove, do something with that hair. You look like some wanton." He knew he'd hurt her, but his emotions were just as confused and raw as hers appeared. Her artless response to his lovemaking had completely unnerved him.
By no means was he a stranger to the demi monde or married matrons of the ton who very willingly bestowed their favors on him. Add to that, his handsome countenance coupled with wealth and a title made him a prime target for every single lady and all the matchmakers in the realm.
But this young woman was different. She had given freely, her responses telling him she had been involved as much as he and with no artifice whatsoever. There had been no coy game to attract his attentions. She was merely being herself. Yet, he acknowledged, most gentlemen of his set would be suspicious of a lady of Quality who possessed such a free spirit. Strangely, it was that very essence of her character that attracted him.
And if he were not careful, he would be in a fair way of becoming neatly trapped and by his own hand, at that.
Brushing a leaf from her hair, he let a small smile ease the tight lines of his mouth, hoping to soften his words. "Come on, Em. It'd be best if we beat my cousin Cecil back, least he becomes suspicious." She still looked unsure, so he grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle tug. "Come on," he said, again, but with an even bigger grin.
Thus reassured, Emily answered with a smile of her own and allowed him to give her a hand up on Marabell. She was still confused by her own reactions as well as his. She should have pushed him away, but she'd been so completely surprised, then swept away with emotions she never knew she possessed. And she'd been hurt, then angered by his callousness, calling her a wanton for behavior that he'd caused. Well, it was one more lesson she'd learned and wasn't likely soon to forget. This man wouldn't get the best of her again. Resolving to behave herself, she tried to match his dignified manner for the remainder of the ride.
By the time they reached Lindemann Park it was close to lunch. Emily had brought a small valise with a change of clothes since Grace wasn't expected to bring her things until afternoon. She quickly changed into a becoming jonquil taffeta gown and had a maid tie up her fly away locks with a yellow ribbon.
When she entered the dining room, she matched Miss Raines's cordial yet decidedly cool greeting. Her mother, Lady Raines, likewise, showed little warmth toward Emily. Both reminded her of the toplofty ladies she'd encountered during her abbreviated London Season.
Cecil Caldwell, by contrast, greeted her most warmly though she was sure she'd detected a false note or two. His dark, handsome features she’d glimpsed at the lake hinted at a sinister side to his character. His sister, Deborah Caldwell, possessed the same dark coloring as her brother. But while his lean face presented sharp angles, her high cheek bones, aquiline nose and pointed chin were softer for a classical beauty. Like Sylvia Raines, Deborah was barely pleasant and ignored her after one assessing glance.
Lord Fordyce and Miss Taber, or Jane as she insisted Emily call her, seemed more receptive to her joining their party. Emily was forced to bite her tongue at one point, however, when Freddy bowed over her hand, then quickly jerked up to catch a heart-shaped patch that had fallen off his pudgy cheek.
“Excuse me, Miss Pendleton," Lord Fordyce said with all seriousness. "Can't keep the deuced, er, the thing pasted on."
“No need to apologize, my lord," replied Emily, not trying to hide her smile. "I do understand what a trial it is to be an arbitrator of fashion."
Freddy gave her a suspicious look before he returned her smile. Turning toward the Viscount, he said, "Told you, Gab. Ain't all a hum."
But Gabriel merely rolled his eyes, causing a giggle to escape Emily.
Lunch was informal with a light repast laid out on a sideboard in the dining room. After being served, Emily only half listened to Sylvia Raines's flirtatious banter directed toward the Viscount. However, when Cecil Caldwell brought up the fishing expedition, Emily's ears perked up.
“With the weather holding," Cecil drawled, leaning back in his chair, "it will be a great afternoon out on the lake. The ladies can show off their parasols while they protect their delicate complexions from the sun."
Gabriel slewed a glance at Emily, who sat straighter in her chair, before he announced, "I regret I must remain behind to be on hand when my other guests arrive."
The look Gabriel gave her had been too quick for Emily to decipher, but she willingly took his lead. "And I came unprepared for such an outing, sir. My trunks are still at Pendleton."
“Sun shades or not," Sylvia added, "the glare off the water is hardly beneficial for a lady's delicate complexion."
“So true, my dear," seconded Lady Raines with a deliberate glance at Emily'
s lightly tanned countenance.
Left with little choice, Cecil deferred to the wishes of the ladies. “Perhaps another occasion would be better. With only Freddy and myself, one of you ladies would be forced to row. But never mind, for it is far more courteous for all of us to be on hand to help Gabriel entertain the new arrivals. Don't you agree, Deborah?"
There had been a commanding edge to his tone that Emily did not miss, and apparently neither did Cecil’s sister. Deborah quickly agreed. "No doubt you are right, brother dear. You always are."
To while away the time, two card tables were set up in the drawing room, and the afternoon was spent in friendly, if somewhat more boisterous than usual, games of chance. Emily ever loved a challenge and, as in everything else she did, threw herself into the game of hearts. Much to Lady Raines horror and Gabriel's delight, either an unladylike cry of victory heralded Emily trumping an opponent's face card or an audible moan followed when she was forced to give up a king or a duce.
Late afternoon saw a cavalcade of carriages rumbling down the gravel drive. Lindemann personally went out to greet the weary travelers on the front veranda and ushered them into the drawing room.
An older woman swabbed in gray muslin entered first and was closely followed by a young girl while two other gentlemen brought up the rear. Emily saw the matron in gray and let a loud groan as she came to her feet.
“Good heavens," cried the older woman, clutching her ample bosom with both hands. "I need my vinaigrette—quickly, quickly."
The young girl accompanying the matron hurried to support her, then solicitously guided the drooping gray figure to a settee.
Digging in her reticule, Lady Raines produced a small vial which she thrust toward the girl before asking, "Whatever is the matter, Esmeralda? I never knew you to be such a poor traveler."
“Nor am I," Lady Esmeralda Spivey remarked acidly. Then, one sausage index finger encased in gray kid leather slowly rose to point at Emily. "That is the problem!"
The Hopeless Hoyden Page 3
