Dalton glared but thankfully kept his mouth shut.
Jared gently took her elbow and guided her back to the curricle. He took a minute to calm the still bug-eyed horses, and she thanked her lucky stars the streets of Dolan had remained blessedly empty during Dalton’s confrontation.
“Lady Ari! Lady Ari!”
Well, almost empty.
It only took one resident to spread gossip, and Ari turned toward the voice to see who would spread the word this time.
Jack Jarvis dashed toward the curricle, waving his arms. Had he seen the fight? She didn’t think so, since he was running from the direction of his cottage, and he had been too far away, probably at home looking after his very pregnant—
“Oh, good heavens!”
“What’s wrong?” Jared leaped up in the curricle to protect her. “Who is he?”
She stared blankly at Jared for a moment, again forgetting his memory loss. “Jack Jarvis. He’s the saddler,” she said quickly and ignored the odd look he gave her. “He also rents a farm field from you, and his wife is—”
“My Julie is having her baby!” Jarvis hollered, only yards away and coming on fast. He looked to be in full-blown panic. “You have to come, Lady Ari! Please!”
Jarvis was at the curricle now and grabbing for Ari’s arm. Jared pulled her out of Jarvis’s reach.
“Please come, Lady Ari,” he begged, his eyes filling with tears. “Something is not right.”
“Where’s Dolly?” she demanded. “She is the one we need.” She turned to Jared. “The midwife. I have assisted her on several occasions.”
“Off to Compton to deliver her niece’s baby. My Julie is early.” Tears started down Jarvis’s cheeks.
Ari pulled free of Jared and grabbed Jarvis’s hand. “Climb in, Jack. Of course, we shall come.”
Chapter Six
The Jarvis cottage was small and reminded Jared of new area developments in his century, offering a standard selection of new homes that—oddly enough—boasted cheap Regency and Georgian architectural facades. A high-pitched wail erupted as they reached the cottage, and Jack blew through the front door and down a short hall off the main living area of the cottage. Jared and Ari trailed in his wake.
Julia Jarvis reclined in a small bed in the back bedchamber, and she looked like a pale blonde elf who had swallowed a beach ball. Jared worried about the size of the baby about to make its entrance in the world. The father was a large strapping man close to Jared’s height and build, and the percentage of women who died in childbirth in this era was inordinately high. A few of his ancestors were part of those statistics according to the journals he had read. Worse still, Ari was rolling up her sleeves.
“What are you going to do?” he asked pointedly.
“I am going to deliver Julia’s baby. You are going to wait outside with Jack.”
“Bless you, Lady Ari,” the expectant mother said weakly, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Jack, go get me some extra sheets or cloth,” Ari instructed. “Go next door to get them if you have to.”
“I have some in the armoire,” Julia said, giving her husband a weak smile, and the father-to-be flew out the door.
“Go,” Ari said and gave Jared a gentle shove toward the door.
“Wait.” He grabbed her elbow and tugged her with him, ignoring her frown. When he had her out of earshot, he asked, “Do you know what to do?”
“Of course. I have assisted Dolly during several births and learned from her. This is the country. Doctors are scarce.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I have also read a few medical journals.”
“Well, you need hot water. Wash your hands in it—with soap, and lots of it—and use soap to wash everything you intend to touch Julia with.”
She pulled back and gave him an incredulous look.
“I too read a lot of scientific journals. Remember?” That and he had recently read that the simple act of hand-washing by midwives begun this century had drastically reduced the cases of terminal childbed fever.
“Trust me on this,” he added urgently.
Ari asked no questions and gave him one curt nod.
Jack appeared in the hallway with an armload of sheets and cloths.
“Are those clean?” Ari asked him, casting Jared a sideways glance. When Jack nodded, she took the cloths from him.
Jared dug two gold sovereigns from his pocket and handed them to Jack. “Go to the inn and get three bottles of their best whiskey,” he said.
Jack looked at Ari. She nodded, and he turned and flew out the door. She glanced back at Jared with raised brows.
“Rinse any instruments you may use and your hands just before you—” He cleared his throat, feeling a might embarrassed discussing such things. “—work on her.”
She stared at him for an interminable moment with narrowed eyes.
“Whiskey sterilizes—er, cleans like nothing else,” he added under her intense scrutiny. If he started rambling about bacteria and germs, he could still get himself shipped off to Bedlam.
She again declined to question his instructions, and he exhaled hard. Jack appeared with the requested liquor, handed it over, and joined Jared on the front porch.
“Why the liquor?” Jack immediately asked. “And I saw Lady Ari with hot water.”
The man looked close to panic, and Jared could tell he deeply loved his tiny wife. Jared briefly pondered what it would be like to love a woman that much.
“All the best midwives in London do it that way,” he replied calmly and added a casual shrug.
Judging by the way Jack relaxed, his answer must have sufficed, and Jared hoped the ton actually used midwives in London, in case Jack decided to check.
****
An hour passed in what seemed like minutes. Julia’s cries of pain had been sharp and constant in the beginning, then quieted to periodic groans leaving Jack to frantically pace the porch. Jared suffered his own stomach knots at the disturbing sounds and had barely coaxed the father-to-be into a seat when Ariana appeared at the door. Jack blanched and flew to his feet, as did Jared.
“Go on in and see your new son,” she said, and a radiant Jack blew past her.
Ari wobbled slightly, and Jared drew her into his arms, held her tight for a moment, and willed some of his strength into her. She did not struggle and allowed him to tuck her in close. He wondered if she realized—as he now did—that she fit perfectly against him. She felt slender and delicate, yet she was strong enough to…
He leaned back to see her face. “Did you really deliver the baby?”
She smiled. “My first all alone, but I have helped with others. Oh, stop shaking your head. I grew up while you were away.”
He needed to be more careful with his body language, or he would give himself away. He had shaken his head in amazement that such a tiny, delicate little thing could do something that would bring most grown men to their knees, him included. Thankfully, she had just chalked up the gesture to Seven’s still considering her to be a child, though the kiss he had given her yesterday should have altered that notion entirely.
She pulled free of his arms, suddenly steady. “Even a simple hug will make for gossip in Dolan.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
Startled, she stepped back to stare. “Absolutely not. Men stay outside. Except the father of course.”
He had done it again. “Of course, what was I thinking?”
She studied him warily. “Indeed, what were you thinking?”
He gave her his best charming smile to change tracks. “Will you be long then?”
She blinked. “No, just let me clean up a bit and give Jack some instructions. I will be right out.”
Minutes later, he helped her into the curricle and climbed in after her. He grabbed the ribbons and turned the prancing blacks. An odd creak sounded as he turned the contraption about, and he smiled. Must be the wooden chassis. His own sulky’s carbon-fibre and stainless-steel shafts never creaked. He would lov
e to race one of his best sulkies against one of these curricles any day.
Ariana relaxed back in her seat and tied her bonnet strings beneath her chin.
“Tired?”
She beamed at him. “Yes, and gloriously happy. I delivered a baby, Jared! All by myself.”
He beamed back. “You did, and I am so very proud of you. How brave you were.”
“Not really. I just didn’t allow myself to think too hard about what I was doing. Oh, and I prayed.”
He closed a hand over hers. “Me, too.”
She looked angelic with her triumphant grin and her flushed cheeks. He felt the same strange pull he always felt when Ariana was near—a tug right around his heart and an urge to pull her close and protect her. Along with the tug came a sudden desperate need to steal a quick kiss, to maintain the connection he had forged at the fountain. He leaned closer, still holding her hand and not wanting to startle her, and damned if the horses didn’t have other ideas.
Rested overlong, the blacks stomped and snorted in their eagerness to get to the fast trek home and jerked the curricle forward, tossing them both back against the seat. Jared yanked the ribbons and opted to make his seduction attempt later. Since he had no other reason to stop in Dolan, he allowed the magnificent horses to high-step their way back through the village, too late now for a picnic.
Harrison grinned and waved to them from the porch of the Hare and Hound Inn. Ari returned his wave, and the curricle promptly struck a large pothole just past the inn. A startling crack sounded, the curricle lurched sideways, and the horses tried to bolt. The curricle seat tilted at a sharp angle, and Ariana slid toward the road as a curricle wheel separated from the shaft. The terrified horses reared up for an all-out run.
Jared couldn’t control the blacks and hang onto Ariana, too. He grabbed her up in his arms and sprang from the curricle seat as the horses surged forward and ripped the broken cart from beneath them, dragging the disabled equipage down the road behind them. The two of them hit the ground hard, Jared twisting in the air to break Ariana’s fall. They rolled up and over twice—Jared clutching Ariana tightly in his arms—before they could stop. Shouts came from all directions, and Harrison reached them first.
Jared brushed the bonnet back from Ariana’s face, feeling a panic ready to stop his heart. “Are you all right?”
She blinked, nodded once, and turned those brilliant green eyes on him. He had never seen anything so wonderful in all his life and wanted to crush her to his chest in relief but feared he would hurt her, to say nothing of scandalizing the entire village of Dolan who had converged on the scene.
“I’m fine,” she said. “You saved me again. You cushioned my fall.”
“Dreadfully glad now that I ignored Eddy’s new diet plans,” he muttered, as he scrambled to his feet and gently pulled Ariana up in one smooth motion.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing.”
A young man flew past on a horse in hot pursuit of the runaway team.
“Who went by?” Jared glanced at Harrison.
“Ben Bostwick’s boy, Barry,” Harrison said cheerfully. “He’ll get yer horses back fast.”
Jared stared at the innkeeper with narrowed eyes and considered mentioning the alliteration ailment infecting the entire village.
Ariana leaned in. “You remember the blacksmith’s son, Your Grace,” she said softly, “and how he handles horses better than anyone in the county.”
But can he pick a peck of pickled peppers?
“Ah yes, the blacksmith’s boy,” Jared responded properly. “He has grown larger while I was gone.”
Harrison frowned. “A bit, I s’pose. Let’s get ye inside.” He moved toward the inn.
“Is your whole village so fond of alliteration, or have I met the only victims?” he whispered to Ariana.
Innocent green eyes turned on him. “I do not understand.”
“Oh, never mind. It is my dream after all.”
She frowned.
“Can you walk?” he asked, taking her elbow.
“Of course, I can.”
Her ankle wobbled at the first step, and he scooped her up in his arms, smiled at her squeal, and carried her past a grinning Harrison through the open door of the Hare and Hound.
“Get me a brandy,” he ordered the tavern keeper on the way past. “No, make that two.”
“Put me down,” Ariana said, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “And I do not drink.”
“You do now,” he told her and gently set her down on a bench, taking a seat alongside.
With Harrison’s back turned, Jared leaned in and brushed a swift kiss across her lips, then grinned at her startled expression. He would have preferred another kiss that left him brainless, but he would take what he could get.
Oh, to hell with that!
He wrapped an arm around her back and turned her so Harrison could not see them should he turn, then kissed her with the adrenaline rush still whipping his blood to a hot frenzy. Ari gasped, and he took full advantage, sliding his tongue into the sweet depths of her mouth.
Once.
Twice.
She responded to the third foray with surprising passion and twined her fingers in the hair at his nape to pull him close.
He fought both the growl and the accompanying urge to press her back along the bench, especially when he heard the thud of Harrison’s brandy bottle hitting the counter. Through sheer force of will, he pulled himself back from her tantalizing mouth. The desire-glazed look in her eyes made him feel gratified, but still somewhat brainless. Definitely pleasurable, however short.
Harrison wandered over with two goblets of his best brandy and did not appear to have witnessed any of their kiss play.
Wide-eyed, Ari studied Jared, and he kidnapped her hand under the table and gave it a squeeze, had to touch her to be sure she was all right. The sight of her sliding out of that runaway carriage would haunt him for months and scared him more than he cared to admit.
She looked ready to chastise him for taking liberties in the public room of the inn, but he nudged her. “Drink.”
She grudgingly reached for her goblet, took a sip, and immediately coughed.
“It is an acquired taste.” Jared grinned. “The second sip will be smoother. Go on.” He nudged her again.
Obediently, she took a second sip and managed this one without coughing.
“Now you’re a pro.” He grinned wider, then both he and Harrison chuckled at her wide-eyed expression. He squeezed her hand. “I’m just kidding.”
“That was a good one, Yer Grace,” Harrison added, then sobered. “Now what happened? I watched ye drive by, then yer wee cart falls apart.”
Jared let loose a long sigh. “My fault I suppose. I heard a loud creak down below when I turned the blacks around back at the Jarvises’.” He could not admit he hadn’t worried about the noise since his stainless-steel sulky shafts didn’t make them. “I should have climbed down right there and checked.”
Harrison turned to Ariana. “Did Julia have the baby?”
Ariana beamed triumphantly, and Jared felt the now-familiar pride again at her delivery. “She did, a healthy baby boy,” she said.
“Well done, Lady Ari!” Harrison exclaimed and saluted. He turned to Jared. “So, ye lost a wheel out there?”
Jared nodded. “We hit the pothole out front, and the wheel came off. Likely broke an axle.”
Harrison nodded. “Surprised ye hit it. Everyone knows where my pothole is.”
“Why do you not fix the pothole?”
Harrison blinked. “Why? It will only come back with the first rain.”
Jared shook his head.
“Good thing the axle broke in town when ye were going slow. Out on that straight stretch to Wakefield Manor, those big horses would have been flying. Ye both could have been killed.”
“I know that!” Jared said a little too sharply.
Ariana laid a hand on his arm. “Drink your brandy.”
He nodded, took a healthy gulp, and the inn door flew open. Dexter breezed through and went straight toward Ariana, which irritated Jared no small amount.
“Are you all right?” he demanded and took a seat on Ariana’s other side.
“We are fine,” Jared said, leaning around Ariana to glare.
She frowned at Jared’s tone and laid a hand on Dexter’s arm. “We are not injured, just shaken up.”
“What happened?”
“They lost a wheel off his wee cart and had to jump,” Harrison interjected, obviously used to being the village disseminator of information. “His Grace saved Lady Ari and cushioned her fall.”
Dexter gave Jared an incredulous stare that morphed to disbelief.
“He did, truly,” Ariana added, reading his expression.
Jared’s irritation ratcheted up a notch. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Actually, yes, it is…knowing you.”
Before Jared could make his outraged response, the inn door flew open a second time, and Barry Bostwick strode in.
“I brought yer horses back, Yer Grace,” he told Jared and doffed his cap. “They’re at the stable. I unhitched the curricle and left it out on the road. My pa is off shoeing some of Lord Wakefield’s hunters. When he gets back, we’ll go get yer curricle with our hay wagon.”
“Can you fix it?”
The young man gave Jared a puzzled look. “Aye, Yer Grace,” he said slowly, “though I thought ye’d be more angry.”
“Why? It is just a run of bad luck. Nothing to get angry about.”
The young man slowly shook his head.
“What?” Dexter asked, before Jared could.
“There is aplenty to get yer dander up about, Yer Grace. Yer axle was partly cut through. A clean cut.”
Jared stared, open-mouthed. “Do you mean what I think you do?”
Young Bostwick nodded soberly. “Someone made sure yer axle would break today.”
Ariana gasped.
Jared glared at Dexter.
“Why are you glaring at me?” Dexter demanded, now on his feet.
“Maybe because you are always around when I have an accident,” Jared growled, rising with him.
Duke Du Jour Page 9
