Quentin invented a legitimate excuse to speak with Ally. Not wanting to frighten her off, he’d shamefully used the claw of a hammer to remove one of his horse’s shoes. The horse, with a name he couldn’t remember, didn’t seem to mind much. With his horse needing shoes, she wouldn’t balk at seeing him again and worry that he’d expose her secret.
When he approached the stable yard, they were already closing the traveling forge for the evening. Ally had disappeared. Bloody hell. He was stuck in this obscure little village with a horse he was unable to ride. He’d done some unusual maneuverings while at the helm of his 74-Gun third-rate ship, but this topped the list of another kind.
He should be securing a room of his own for the night; instead he’d hidden in the woods and spied on Ally and her employer. They settled into a cottage near a small lake. He watched the sway of her hips as she strode down the wooded path. His chest tightened. He swallowed over the hard lump in his throat.
He noted her stiff gait and downcast gaze during the day when she worked with the farrier, but now, without an audience, she looked feminine, genteel. She walked past him toward the pond, then removed her hat and the bindings coiled around her head.
Quentin opened his mouth to alert her of his presence, but her glorious hair fell across her shoulders and down her back, effectively stopping him cold. He stood rooted in place, hidden amongst the trees, speechless.
She continued to disrobe on the sand by the water’s edge.
He knew he should look away, and he’d done a pretty good job of it before when he undressed her, but now in the moonlight, everything felt different. She removed her shirt and stepped out of her trousers. He willed himself to avert his gaze, but the curve of her bottom and the length of her legs were too mesmerizing. His breathing hitched. She stepped gracefully into the pond. The water reflected against the night sky like jewels, pulling at him like the sea always had. A rush of blood coursed through his veins.
She stopped, covered her breasts with her hands, and swung around. She twisted to one side, then the other, and gazed into the woods. Sinking behind a tree trunk, he chastised himself for the coward he was. He vowed not to take one step from his hiding place until she was gone. He reassured himself he was only here to guard her, to make sure Linford didn’t follow her until he got some answers, nothing more. And he knew damn well he was a fool.
Behind the base of the oak, he shut his eyes, imagining streams of water running down her skin, through her hair, all the way down to her slender ankles. Images of the previous night flittered through his mind, of him unwrapping her like a cherished Christmas gift. Every arch, every freckle, every swatch of pale skin burned into his memory. Lavender—her scent. A bolt of desire struck him. No longer hearing the splashing water, he sat up straighter and craned his neck to listen.
He stood, arched his back, and slid around the side of the tree to stare straight down the barrel of a pistol.
…
“I knew I heard something.” Ally narrowed her gaze at him. Holding a towel around her in one hand and a pistol in the other, she asked, “What are you doing here, Captain?”
“I—I wanted to warn you that Linford is still asking about you. I assured him you didn’t put down his horse, but he seems intent on questioning you. He also mentioned a lady’s companion stealing from him. Did you work for him?”
Her legs nearly buckled beneath her. Rivulets of the lake’s cool water dripped down her skin as she contemplated how best to respond. Their conversation had to be steered away from Linford, but she couldn’t lie, either. Not to him. “Yes, I worked for him at one time, but found I didn’t care for his employ. I prefer working with horses. And no, I didn’t steal from him.”
He flattened his lips together for a moment, then met her gaze. “Then I believe you. But why would he—would you mind not pointing that thing at me?”
She lowered the pistol.
“I was going to speak with you when you were working with your blacksmith friend, but—”
“Simon. His name is Simon. He is my friend, but everyone believes I’m his son. Albeit adopted son, but things aren’t questioned that way. Not that it’s any of your business.” She frowned. “You have a way of being around me whenever I’m naked. Why is that?”
“I…”
Ally lifted a brow. “Yes?” A small furling of delight blossomed inside her, knowing she’d surprised a former sea captain as he struggled with his words. Perhaps his expertise on the high seas didn’t translate into being quiet in the forest at night. “I’m listening.”
The captain swiped at his shirt front. “I seem to be having a most difficult time explaining myself to you, and yet you’re the one acting in subterfuge.”
“Subterfuge? Is that what you think? How I dress and present myself in public is none of your concern. I’ve survived quite well on my own no matter what I wear, and will continue to do so.” That wasn’t completely true, otherwise she might still be lying in a stall unconscious.
And then there was the way he looked at her and how it made her feel inside. Shivering, she wrapped the towel more tightly around her torso.
The captain looked down and kicked his booted toe in the dirt. “You must think me quite a fool, then. Hoping to rescue you?”
She smiled. Bubbles of desire simmered in her belly.
He gazed slyly at her. “Since you are the one holding the pistol, it appears as though I’m the one in need of rescuing now.”
She suppressed the urge to laugh. “Turn around, so I can get dressed.”
He grinned and presented his back to her.
Stepping behind several oak trees, she set the towel down and slipped on her trousers and shirt.
He called over his shoulder. “You said you’d join me for a glass of wine.”
She squeezed water from her hair. “I don’t think I actually agreed to the glass of wine. You can turn around now. Besides, I couldn’t stay.”
The captain strode through the woods, closer to her. “Why?”
“I don’t know you. You’re a complete stranger, after all. There’s no need for me to answer any of your questions.”
“Am I really such a stranger then? I’ve kept your secret. I’ve not revealed your identity to anyone.” He paused as if adding emphasis to his next words. “I am trustworthy, and I’ve seen you naked.”
The art of flirting had left her years ago, but somehow, she felt as though she had gained footing. “Are you trying to be funny, Mr. Drake?”
“So I’m Mr. Drake now?” He leaned a muscled shoulder against the base of a giant oak tree and eyed her intently.
She nodded.
His gray eyes glinted in the moonlight like the water on the lake. “You look beautiful with your hair wet and down around your shoulders. I feel fortunate to get to see the real you.”
A deep ache kicked her, and a longing to be the real her, whoever that was, unfolded within her. She looked away from his intense gaze. “I don’t know who the real me is anymore.”
The captain reached for her hand.
But she couldn’t allow herself to put her trust in him by taking hold of what he offered, even if it was only holding her hand.
“Won’t you sit with me a moment by the edge of the lake?” he asked.
“All right.” She shoved the pistol in the pocket of her trousers and followed him.
“Tell me about your horses,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m no good with them myself.”
She clasped her hands behind her back and strolled along the sandy beach. The captain fell into step beside her. “I’ve loved horses all my life. To hear my father tell it, I learned to ride before I learned to walk.”
They sat at the water’s edge amongst the grass and coarse, yellow sand. Being side by side, with only a few inches separating them, Ally began to relax. He wasn’t going to hurt her. There was no reason to be afraid. She flattened her hands behind her and glimpsed the interest in his eyes. “I always had a way with horses. I sensed their
needs and fears. From the time I could keep up, I followed our local veterinarian around on his house calls.”
Speaking freely and not having to think about which lies she’d told and hadn’t told brought her a momentary sense of peace. “It’s my dream to own a horse farm one day where I can offer riding instruction for children and adults who wouldn’t normally ride. I have money saved.” Once she got to talking, she couldn’t seem to stop. “I would charge a fair price for riding lessons.”
“I believe you.” He nodded.
The tone of his voice sounded genuine. She picked up a small pebble and tossed it in the lake. “But for children like my fiancé’s brother, who is blind, I want to offer lessons at no cost to them.”
His voice seemed stilted as he asked, “You have a fiancé?”
His question stopped her cold. She’d let down her guard. Her mind raced. Was there any reason she shouldn’t tell him? “My former fiancé…he died almost two years ago.”
“Your former fiancé has a blind brother?”
She didn’t like this line of questioning. “Yes, he did.” She shook her head. “He does. His name is Rupert. He’s attending school in Manchester.” Now she’d said too much. “What do you like best about the sea, Captain?”
“Are we switching topics? I’d rather hear about you and your family.”
The only family she had was Rupert. She shouldn’t have mentioned him. Ally kept the topics of their conversation rooted firmly in the past. That way, she wouldn’t mistakenly slip up and tell the wrong lie.
They sat beside each other next to the lake with a polite distance between them, but the hour grew late and she didn’t want Clara worrying about her.
“I really have to go. I have a long day of work tomorrow, but I’ve enjoyed talking with you.”
A faint smile creased his face. Brown hair fell over his forehead, covering his eyebrows. She wanted to push the strands away to see his eyes clearly, but she didn’t dare.
Rising to her feet, she said, “Don’t sneak up on me like that again. I might accidently shoot you.”
“I won’t.” He smiled in earnest this time and stood beside her. “But I will see you tomorrow because my horse threw a shoe.”
Butterflies beat their wings inside her belly. The thought of seeing him again excited her, but worried her, too. Taking a deep breath, she struggled for composure. “That’s fine, but please, you must keep my secret.”
“I’ll never reveal your secret,” he said in a soothing tone.
“Thank you.” She walked back down the path to the Larson’s stone cottage.
Chapter Four
The next morning, Quentin emerged from his room at the coaching inn with extra spirit in his step. While he knew his family was expecting him, he couldn’t leave just yet. Ally mattered to him. Seeing her again mattered to him. He hadn’t questioned her further about Linford’s claims of thievery—she said she didn’t steal from him, and he believed her.
Linford hadn’t been a bad sort at Eton, but he hadn’t been a model student, either. Yet, Quentin wouldn’t have believed his sister’s former fiancé capable of hitting a boy or letting a horse suffer. Something about Linford’s claims didn’t sit right with him.
Quentin’s gelding stood more patiently in line waiting their turn than he did.
Ally held her gaze downcast. The only time awareness shone in her eyes was when she spoke to the horses. Something twisted in his gut. She shouldn’t be dressed as a boy. She should walk upright and unashamed, not hunched over like a barely noticeable child. The customers who came to have their horses shod paid little to no attention to her, addressing their concerns to Simon. She held the horses by their lead line and exchanged one horse for another out of their pens, while she was nearly invisible.
Invisible to everyone but him.
When Quentin approached the stable, his gaze focused on her, not Simon. “My horse has thrown a shoe.”
Simon glanced from him to Ally and back. “We’d be happy to help you with that. Al, would you take this man’s horse?”
Ally drew near Quentin and patted his gelding’s neck. “I’ve got him.”
Simon piped in. “You’re welcome to run an errand or two around town. You can pick up your horse in an hour.”
“No. I’ll stay here,” Quentin responded, hardening his gaze at Ally.
“Suit yourself,” Simon said. “We’ll take the other three shoes off first.”
Beside him, Ally reached for the lead line. “I’ll take him,” she huffed under her breath.
“No, I’ve got him. You take a break,” Quentin commanded, turning his back to her.
“It’s my job.” She darted around him in an effort to take the lead line and brushed his forearm.
He grumbled and held the lead line out of her reach. “I don’t care. You’ve been working too hard.”
They glared at one another. Crossing her arms over her flattened chest, she said, “I should know whether I’ve been working too hard or not. Let me do my job.”
“Fine.” A smile tugged his lips. “We can both hold the lead line if you’d like?” There. No one could say he wasn’t willing to compromise.
Quentin scrutinized every corner of her dirty face. His fingers ached to wipe the smudges of grime away. “You look beautiful, but do you purposefully put dirt on your face?”
Simon placed the gelding’s back leg down. “Al, is this man bothering you?”
She shook her head. “No, he’s fine. He’s…he’s a friend, of sorts.”
Simon grunted, and strolled a short distance away to pound the metal into the correct shape.
Quentin raised his voice to a loud whisper to be heard over the banging. “Well, do you? Is it part of your disguise?”
“This is none of your concern, Captain. I love working with horses. No one would let me do this work as a woman.”
“That isn’t true. And I don’t—”
“Oh, isn’t it? Would you let me work on your ship?”
“No, but that’s different.”
She swung away from him, allowing him to hold his horse. She marched back and forth. “Simon pays me well. I get to do work I enjoy. Leave it alone.”
Her hips swayed. A momentary lapse in her boyish act. He wondered how well she was paid by Simon, and if theft entered into her plans. Surely, she couldn’t be so destitute she’d been forced into a life a crime. “I’ll give you money, if that’s what you need.”
She stopped and struck her fist on her thigh. Her fixed stare pinned on him. “So you’ll give me money in exchange for what, precisely?”
“I’ll give it to you so you won’t keep living like this.” He scraped his hands through his hair like a pitchfork through dry straw. “Living like someone you’re not.”
She straightened her spine. “I told you—”
Simon’s pounding of metal stopped at the precise moment her words sounded. Immediately she hung her head.
Another man loitered near the stables. His eyes were shaded beneath his tall hat, but something didn’t feel right about him. He dressed too formally for such a rural area, and Quentin was certain he was eavesdropping on his conversation with Ally.
Ally followed Quentin’s gaze and looked at the stranger standing beside a nearby shed. She asked, “Who is that man?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like the looks of him.”
The man turned and walked away, as if he knew he was the subject of their conversation.
Simon signaled he was ready, and Ally insisted on holding the gelding while Simon fitted each of his shoes. Quentin leaned against the stable door, crossed his arms over his chest, and brooded over her situation. She was hiding something. He knew Ally was none of his business, but he was drawn to her in indescribable ways.
He had to discover why Linford would accuse her of being a thief—if the earl had alerted the authorities, he really believed Ally had stolen from him. He needed to press her for the truth and help her if he could. This would be
his way of redeeming himself.
Whatever his warped sense of reasoning, he needed to speak with her in private, away from people’s prying intrusions. If he could get her away from the horses.
His gelding flicked his ears back and forth as Ally talked to him. Traitor. But he supposed he shouldn’t be angry with the beast, since Quentin preferred Ally’s company to his horse’s, too. He hadn’t even taken the time to give him a name. To him, a horse was a means of transportation, nothing more. But horses certainly meant something to Ally.
Quentin wasn’t the most experienced rider, but he remembered a time when he’d race his brother across the pasture. That was before his leg ached and when his being unloaded from jumping fences didn’t hurt so much. He relished those carefree days, and as he reminisced, an idea formed in his mind. “Ally, please, after your work is done, have dinner with me tonight.”
She licked her bottom lip and gazed up as him. “You know I can’t.”
Simon returned with the new shoes and pounded each one on the bottom of his gelding’s hoof. He moved expertly from one foot to the next, the horse, not seeming to mind.
“Your horse is ready to go,” Simon said.
“Thank you,” Quentin replied.
“I’ll take a quick break, and we’ll take the next horse in a moment. All right with you, Al?”
“Yes,” she said.
As soon as Simon turned, Quentin whispered in Ally’s ear, “Have dinner with me, or if that isn’t an option, I could be your first customer. I could use a riding lesson.”
Ally bit down on her bottom lip.
He wondered if she was trying to hide a smile.
Pushing at a stray hair from her cap, she said, “I seem to lose my sense of simple reasoning when I’m near you.”
“I want you to forget reasoning and have dinner with me.”
“Captain, you must stop following me. I require no rescuing.” She stood before him with her words saying one thing, but he sensed her body saying another.
Ally glanced past his shoulder, panic suddenly carved over the edges of her dirty face.
The man he noticed before stood a few buildings away observing them.
The Blacksmith's Son Page 4
