“The castle can confuse ye,” he said, adding a bit of male humor.
Waving to the one-armed gardener, Emily smiled when a morning breeze ruffled her hair. It felt so good to be back in the country, away from the dirt, fog, and dampness of London’s smoke-clogged streets. She reached up and untied the bonnet ribbons from under her chin, looping them around her neck. She let her new bonnet with its ostrich plume hang down her back. Skipping happily along the path, she felt as free as a bird, slowing only when she came to a narrow, overgrown section on the wilderness path, some downed trees blocking its twists and turns. She and Wilma walked this way many a day to get a close look at the duke’s magnificent edifice.
Emily ducked into the high grass along the path when she heard hoof beats coming toward her. Not wishing to encounter anyone, she eased farther into the woods, hid behind a leafy bush, and waited for the rider to pass. It dawned on her anyone galloping foolishly along that path would be in great danger unless they knew about the fallen trees blocking it. She came across several but easily ducked beneath them.
Hoof beats came closer. If the rider didn’t slow down, he or his horse—or both—could be badly injured. She must warn the rider! Without thinking about her own danger, spontaneously, Emily burst from the woods through high grass and tangled vines. She leapt onto the middle of the path, grabbed her new bonnet with the fluffy feather, and waved it frantically above her head.
* * * *
As Gavin rode out of the hamlet, he felt the horse’s untapped energy coiling beneath him—the powerful animal was anxious to stretch his legs. Tapping the gelding’s sides lightly, the eager equine took off. The pair flew down the dirt lane, mane and tail whipping in the breeze as both enjoyed a refreshing gallop.
The duke’s castle loomed in the distance. Spotting an opening into the woods on his left, the earl reined in the gelding. It looked like a short cut to the duke’s stables. Gavin turned onto the narrow path, adroitly guiding his mount through the gap. The gelding seemed eager to return to his stable, so Gavin loosened his grip and let him canter. The overgrown path soon narrowed farther as they rode through thick underbrush. He was about to rein the mount down to a walk when the startled animal whinnied in fright and reared up. Ironclad hoofs pawed the air in front of the earl. He was an excellent horseman, or he would have been thrown beneath the gelding’s slashing feet.
“Bloody hell!” A roar like a lion escaped from the earl’s lips. Taken by surprise, his heart leapt into his throat.
What bloody idiot jumped onto the path flapping something at the horse’s head?
Using hands, legs, and equestrian expertise, Gavin firmly tamed the horse’s gyrating antics, forcing the frightened animal’s hoofs down onto the dirt. The overexcited gelding snorted, blowing noisily through wide open nostrils. He whirled in tight circles only a few strides away from a woman lying sprawled on her back, blocking the path. She could easily have been trampled.
It took several tense moments before the earl had the gelding under firm control. His heart palpitating, he growled out a few more blue-tinged, ungentlemanly, epithets, and shot a fierce look at the person on the ground. If the animal hadn’t reared when he did, the woman who was bowled over could have been killed. Gavin’s temper flared. Unable to totally suppress his anger and consternation, annoyance blazed from his dark eyes. He had no idea who the female lying on the ground was. Spitting out curses in a rough masculine rumble, he yelled, “Dammit, woman! Who let you out of Bedlam? Why in the devil did you wave that damn thing at the horse’s head?”
The earl’s ire flamed hotter, fiercely incensed, and inhaling a deep, exasperated breath, Gavin growled, “Who the hell are you?”
His visual assessment began with a pair of half boots protruding from beneath Emily’s gown. Next, his eyes traveled forward. Filmy, silk stockings encased shapely calves and knees. He sucked in another deep breath and released it slowly. His gaze roved further over the rumpled gown, the soft muslin dipping into a valley between widespread legs. Without thinking, Gavin knew what he imagined.
Suppressing those carnal thoughts, his dark eyes moved on, touching on hips and a small waist. Ample breasts filled her bodice nicely. She may as well be an orgiastic banquet spread before him, a feast for the eyes, a body on which to gorge himself. His cock twitched beneath his breeches’ flap. He was half hard in a matter of seconds.
What in hell am I thinking?
Leathem swallowed, unaware yet who lay on the ground below him. True, he hadn’t bedded a woman in months, and he had been thinking too much about Emily Dancy since last evening and more so this morning. But who was the woman sprawled in the path?
* * * *
Emily didn’t realize how close the horse and rider had been when the pair exploded around a blind curve. Snorting nostrils, flying mane, pumping muscles, and slashing hoofs appeared on her before she could shout a warning. Feather and ribbons flapped. Emily hurled herself backward until her heel caught on an exposed root, and she landed flat on her back in the horse’s path. She flung both forearms up to protect her face.
The back of her head slammed against the ground. Breath whooshed out of her lungs, and for a moment, she saw stars. Struggling to get up, sharp pain shot through her head. She gulped air and held her breath, giving herself more time to gather her wits.
She tried curling into a ball, but she must not have succeeded, because she lay in an ungainly, unladylike, sprawl. Reality hit when she realized the horse’s hoofs had never touched her, never stomped her. She felt pain because she had bumped her head.
Thank you, God, for small favors, Emily groaned silently, her mind woozy and discombobulated. Her shoulders and backside hurt, too. She must be badly bruised. Struggling for calm, Emily’s heart pounded like a hammer against her ribs. Her brain still whirled, dizziness swamping her where she lay. But she had stopped trembling.
And that reckless rider had the blasted gall to shout nasty curses at me!
She pulled in a short breath, and removing her forearms, she uncovered her face very slowly. Opening her eyes, she squinted up at an enraged male—the Earl of Leathem!
Oh, no!
“Christ Almighty! Is that you, Emily?” Gavin sputtered, his expression incredulous. In a flash Gavin leapt off the horse, dropped the reins and his crop, yanked off his top hat, and fell to his knees in the dirt beside her. “Good God, are you hurt?” he exclaimed. “You must be! Where? Tell me. Show me.”
“Unh…” Emily swallowed nervously and cleared her throat. With Leathem leaning over her, she could hardly speak. Tongue-tied by the unexpected sight of her employer, she just stared blindly up at him.
Meanwhile disbelief raced rampant across Gavin’s countenance followed by a piercing flash of anxiety burning deep in his ebony eyes.
“Unh…no…I-I don’t think so…I’m fine,” she muttered. Turning her head to look around, she winced and groaned. “Ouch!”
The earl grabbed Emily’s shoulders, a little too tightly, she thought, grimacing from his strong grip.
“Emily, don’t move, do you hear me! Stay still. But tell me what hurts you?”
“Unh, my head hurts some…” She responded dully. She reached toward the back of her skull. “I may have bumped it rather hard,” she murmured, “when I fell backward. Ohh…there’s a goose egg on my skull!”
The earl commanded, “I said don’t move!” He leaned closer. “Bloody hell, Emily, do you know you could have been trampled! Or killed, you foolish girl! What on earth were you thinking to stand in the middle of the path and flap that damn thing at me?” He glared at the bonnet lying beside her.
The earl’s scornful scold flooded Emily’s crystal eyes with hot tears. He sounded so angry with her! She clamped her eyelids shut to stop tears from escaping. But she couldn’t stop a tiny whimper from squeezing from between her lips. Didn’t he know she tried desperately to warn him? He could have been thrown and badly injured if he didn’t slow down or realize what
loomed ahead.
“Emily, dammit, you are injured.” He heard her whimper again rather noisily. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Emily’s cheeks were wet. He should have known she was hurt and not listened to what she professed to be fine. It was his damned recklessness that caused her pain.
Emily opened her eyes and looked up at him, and thought, how strange that she never once saw Leathem so terribly angry or overset. He never turned a hair when a very old and expensive Chinese vase inadvertently slipped from Lilianne’s hands, scattering flowers, water, and pieces of porcelain on the Persian carpet. He merely called for a servant to clean up the mess.
She watched the earl’s dark, anxious eyes searching the whereabouts for his horse. The big bay docilely nipped at tall grass a short distance away.
“I’ll take you back to Wyndemere on horseback and summon a physician to examine you when we get there.” Gavin looked and sounded solicitous as he gazed down at her. The odd feeling struck him unexpectedly, making it difficult for him to breathe properly. He quickly swallowed the queasiness he had felt churning in his gut.
“Blast it, Emily,” he grumped some more under his breath. “I’ll try to be gentle, but I want you up on that horse now. Can you help me, just a little?”
Gavin had been using her given name all this while.
Emily realized it, and her heart fluttered upon hearing the sound coming from his lips.
“Y-you needn’t, my lord. I’ll just rest here for a little while.”
“You’re not going anywhere but on that saddle with me.”
Her skull and shoulders took the brunt of it when she fell. Luckily, the ground was spongy after a recent rainfall, or her injuries may have been much worse. She may have really cracked open her cranium.
“I t-think I can stand.” She now inhaled deeply. “I-I’ll be…fine…in a moment or two. I’ll go where I was heading before…”
She felt dizzy. Her mind was not working the way it should. The trouble now was that she wasn’t sure where she had been heading before.
“You’re being stubborn and rather foolish, my dear. You’re hurt, so listen to me and don’t argue. You’ll do what I tell you. Do you understand? Now be still and don’t move.”
* * * *
The earl’s strong hands helped Emily to her feet. The ground swayed ominously beneath her. Gavin wrapped his arms around her to steady her. Emily gasped when her breasts brushed the earl’s chest. She had never been held this close by any man but her father. And only when she was very young. Again, she pictured Wilma and Lord Harry hugging and kissing.
Gavin urged her forward to reach the gelding. When she stumbled, he asked nervously, “Are you going to swoon?”
“I hope not, Lord Leathem.”
Shaking her head, Emily soon found that move wasn’t a good idea.
She pressed palms against his chest to loosen his hold. “I can walk by myself.”
Instead, he bent and scooped her up into his arms.
“My lord!” she squeaked.
“Shush, Emily, you’re not walking anywhere. We’re riding to Carlisle’s. The gelding is quite calm, see? You frightened him is all, flapping that frilly bonnet in his face.”
“My lord, I never learned how to ride—”
“No need. I’ll do the riding. You’ll be my passenger.” Strong and sure, Gavin hoisted Emily’s bruised backside onto the saddle, letting her legs hang loose against the horse’s sides. Proper or not, that’s how he settled her.
Emily winced, looking down. Her gown rode up exposing her legs in sheer silk stockings. She tried to yank the hem down to cover her calves but with little success.
“Leave it,” the earl ordered firmly. “It’s just nonsense. I saw your legs while you lay stretched out on the ground.” His lips twitched into a masculine smile. “They’re quite shapely legs by the way.”
Bracing a hand on the horse’s neck, and with a smooth move, Gavin shoved a booted toe in the stirrup and climbed on the horse’s rump behind Emily. “We’re heading to the castle. This is the path you took from Wyndemere, is it not?”
“Yes, but—”
“We’ll go slow, Emily. Don’t worry, I won’t let you to fall off.” Gavin’s arms encircled her waist, his hands grasping the reins in front of her.
She breathed in. “Are you still angry with me, my lord?” she asked and waited.
Guiding the horse along the path, Gavin’s forearms rubbed along Emily’s ribcage.
“Angry?” It wasn’t anger he felt when he saw it was Emily Dancy lying on the ground beneath the horse’s dancing hoofs. Instead, what he felt was gut-wrenching fright. Not ire. Seeing her sprawled out in front of him, his stomach was in knots at the same time his heart leapt into his throat. “No,” he whispered, bending close to her ear. “I’m not angry with you. I’m the one who was at fault.”
“Oh. Then I feel better,” she murmured quietly.
Emily sat as rigid as a ramrod on the saddle. He gently, but firmly, commanded her, “Relax, Emily. Rest your back against me.” His forearms tightened, bringing her to his chest and keeping her there.
Emily grabbed his muscular forearms. Perhaps this was how Wilma felt when Lord Harry’s arms embraced her. Did she feel all quivery inside like this? Did she flush with sudden heat? Was she nervous? No, not nervous—they were married! But Emily felt all those things at this moment with Leathem’s arms holding her close.
The horse’s rocking-chair moves calmed Emily’s nerves as they rode toward the duke’s mansion. The earl’s forearms still rubbed against her torso in an odd, rhythmical motion. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. Chafing the sides of her breasts and doing strange things to her senses.
“Are you feeling better? Are you more comfortable, Emily?” the earl asked, his warm cheek brushing the side of her head.
“Yes.” Emily did what he asked and relaxed. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Good,” was all he said.
His breath feathered against her like a soft breeze. Tiny tremors rippled along her spine much like it did on the balcony last evening.
Birds chirped high in the treetops. Under a canopy of tall oaks and maples, the thump of the horse’s hoofs scarcely made a sound on the damp carpet of fallen leaves blanketing the cool, shady portions of the path. Gavin was forced to nudge the horse off the wilderness path, skirting the heavy tree branches that blocked their progress.
“Drat! I should know better than to gallop over unknown territory. I wasn’t thinking straight, and the horse was anxious to return to his stable. I can see why you had to warn me,” Gavin said, his lips hovering next to her ear. He inhaled when he got a sniff of a light, flowery scent, like what he smelled on her last night.
I’m still too damned aware of you, Emily Dancy. Your warmth, your feminine softness, the fresh, clean smell of your hair, the petal smooth skin of your young cheek…I don’t know what has come over me.
He was reminded of his aunt’s lecture about waiting too long to remarry. If he had done so years ago, he may have produced an heir and a spare by the age of forty. She also suggested he cast eyes over possible marriage prospects while at the duke’s house party. Even a marriage of convenience would qualify in Lydia’s mind. His wife could then launch his ward onto London’s Marriage Mart while he kept a promise to his unknown relatives.
“I didn’t know about this wilderness path, but it was stupid of me to rush ahead without checking what hazards I might encounter. Therefore, Emily, I must beg your pardon and apologize.” The earl coughed, clearing his throat. “Excuse me, too, for shouting at you in such an ungentlemanly manner back there. I lost my temper, hurling terrible epithets at your head. Can you possibly forgive me?”
She turned her head. Pain arrowed down her neck and across her shoulders; her head began to throb painfully. She managed to say, “I would have warned whoever was riding to be careful of downed branches lying across the path.”
�
�And I could have broken my neck if you hadn’t stopped me. How can I thank you, Emily?”
“I’m only sorry that I frightened your mount.”
He used Emily’s given name unconsciously now. He would never address her like this in London, but at country house parties, it was a different kettle of fish. Propriety was eased and familiarity taken for granted. Gavin knew all the unspoken rules. He had attended enough of these festivities. And certain rules were expected to be broken. More often than not. He decided to break some of them right now.
“No harm was done, Emily, other to you, I’m afraid. But I want you examined by a physician.”
“No, oh, please no, Lord Leathem, I don’t want a doctor. It was only a bump on the noggin. I can walk and talk fine.”
“Perhaps. But I can’t forget that I was the cause of your injury.”
“Please, I beg you. I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine.”
“Well then, if you won’t listen to my advice, I shall have to make it up to you some other way,” Gavin said, giving in. “At the duke’s party.”
“That isn’t necessary either, my lord.”
“You are quite a stubborn wench, Emily Dancy.” The earl’s words carried a chuckle along with the scold. “Nevertheless, we shall see, won’t we?”
Silence hung in the air as they approached the castle’s informal gardens. The earl’s arms hugged Emily. She rather liked the feeling, but she knew she should not entertain other thoughts.
“By the way, Emily, my given name is Gavin, so please stop ‘lording’ me while we are at Wyndemere. It makes me feel ancient and as if I have one foot in the grave. I’ll be forty soon enough, young lady—but not sixty.” A raspy chuckle muttered against her ear. “Do me that favor, eh?”
“Oh, I couldn’t, my lord. It’s not fitting,” Emily retorted. “You’re an earl, and I’m…a nobody. I’m your employee and Lilianne’s governess.”
“Hush…Emily. Because I mean to keep calling you, Emily. Your use of my given name is not fitting only when I say it isn’t. Do oblige me, please. After all, you just saved my neck back there. Mind you, I could have broken it, and that would be the end of me.”
The Marriage Bargain Page 9
