The Tantalizing Miss Coale (The Notorious Coale Brothers)

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘Tell me now that you don’t want me!’ He muttered the words against her skin.

  ‘I c-can’t, Henry— ‘

  In the heat of desire he had forgotten her husband, forgotten everything save the sweet taste of her. Now the reality hit him and with it disappointment, bitter as gall.

  ‘He’ll not stop me taking what is mine.’

  With a sob she pushed him away.

  ‘Is that all I am to you, a conquest?’

  ‘What more can you ever be, now you have married that dolt?’

  ‘This is not you, Ben. You were never cruel.’

  The moonlight glinted on her tears but this time he hardened his heart.

  ‘I am what you have made me, sweetheart.’

  Sally shuddered at his harsh retort. She had thought for a moment that she might be able to explain, to make him understand, but it was too late, he hated her too much. He reached for her again but with a sob she tore herself away dashed back towards the inn, the sound of his angry laughter following her through the darkness.

  * * *

  She did not stop until she had reached the safety of her bedchamber. She curled up on the bed, hugging the pillow. That she still loved Ben Hensley was painfully apparent, but he hated her. Their meeting in the orchard was nothing more than moonlight madness. For the past two years she had lived with her father’s constant taunts that any man worth the name would not have walked away so easily. Of course, Papa never knew what she had said, how she had laughed at Ben and persuaded him that she had been merely amusing herself at his expense. She had done her best to hurt and humiliate him and she had succeeded only too well. Could any man worth the name still love her after that? She thought not. It would be best for everyone if they never met again.

  * * *

  When she emerged from her room the next morning she found Henry at the little writing desk in the corner of the room. He jumped up when he saw her.

  ‘Overslept did you, m’dear? Yesterday was a tiring day, but we shall journey in easy stages from here.’

  ‘I beg your pardon, Henry. Why did you not wake me?’

  ‘I thought it best not to disturb you.’

  ‘But surely we should have been on the road over an hour ago.’

  ‘No need to be in a spin over it. I’ve told my coachman to be ready to move at noon.’

  ‘Noon! But what if Papa should catch up with us?’

  ‘No fear of that, my love.’

  She clasped her hands, trying to fight down her panic.

  ‘But you know he will be furious when he finds me gone, he will send his people out immediately to fetch me back.’

  ‘But this is hardly the sort of place he will look for us,’ he said comfortably. ‘Now come and sit down and break your fast.’ He pushed a plate towards her. ‘I have already done so and can recommend the ham, it is very good with a little mustard. And while you do that, I will finish my letter. Just a note to my steward, don’t you know, with a few little instructions for him.’

  Sally was surprised at Henry’s nonchalance but she thought perhaps he was trying to put her at her ease, so she said no more. He bustled around, leaving Sally to enjoy her coffee and her thoughts, until he had finished his letter.

  ‘There, all done. Now, I had best go downstairs and find a servant to take it to the post. Then I think I shall take a little air. Will you come with me?’

  She glanced out at the sunshine but refused, reluctantly. She would have liked to go outside, but she did not know if Ben was still at the inn and she would not risk another meeting. With that thought in mind she locked the door behind Henry, just in case, then prowled restlessly about the room. At the writing desk she stopped, looking at the sheets of writing paper in disarray. Her eye was caught by one sheet which bore several lines of writing. Dear Henry, had be missed a page of his letter? She picked up the paper, but what she saw there made her blood run cold.

  * * *

  Unusually, Ben slept late, his slumbers disturbed by images of Serena Coale. It would have been better if he had ignored her, rather than stirring up memories best left alone. After a hasty breakfast he walked out to the stable to collect Morgan, the huge roan gelding that had carried him faithfully for so many miles. A little rain had fallen in the early hours but the sky was clear and as he trotted out onto the road he hoped for a dry journey to York.

  ‘Psst!’

  Ben looked around. The sound had come from a narrow alley beside the inn. He halted Morgan and peered into the shadowy opening.

  ‘Well, well. The Honourable Miss Coale.’

  Even in the shadows he saw her blush.

  ‘I need your help.’ She sank her teeth into her lip. It was obviously costing her dear to admit this. ‘There is no one else.’

  ‘I gathered that.’ He tried to sound calm, but even at a distance he could not deny the attraction he felt for her.

  ‘I need to get away from here, will you help me?’

  It took a colossal effort for Ben to gather up the reins and turn away from those dark, beseeching eyes. He urged his horse on.

  ‘You have made your bed, madam...’

  ‘Ben, please.’ She ran out of the alley and began to walk beside him. ‘I was mistaken in Henry. I must get away.’

  ‘Tired of marriage already, Mrs. Woods?’ He curled his lip. ‘You are quickly aroused, but then...we should call you Sal volatile.’

  She ignored his jibe.

  ‘I cannot hire a horse or a vehicle from here, he would know of it immediately.’

  ‘Does that matter?’

  ‘Yes.’ There was a note of desperation in her voice. ‘Please, take me as far as York.’

  ‘Not I, madam. Ask someone else.’

  Sally watched him trot away. Her shoulders slumped and she berated herself for her foolishness. If there had been any other option she would not have approached him, but she was desperate to put as much distance as she could between herself and Henry. Somehow, despite all that had happened in the orchard, she’d thought Ben would help her. She was wrong. She had felt no desire to cry over Henry’s treachery, but now tears threatened. Angrily she dashed them away. Crying would not help. She must look after herself.

  * * *

  Ben trotted along the lane but at the bend he glanced behind him. He expected to see a forlorn figure standing in the lane. Instead Sally was almost running along behind him, holding up the skirts of her olive-green riding habit and keeping close to the hedgerow so that she could not be seen from the inn. Amused, he stopped and waited for her to catch up with him.

  ‘What are you doing?’ She did not answer, and he set Morgan to walk alongside her. ‘Surely you are not planning to march all the way to York?’

  She gave him barely a look, but he caught the mulish set of her mouth.

  ‘I shall try to hire a horse or a gig in the next village, and hope that Henry won’t discover my direction until it is too late.’

  ‘Why York?’

  ‘Henry will expect me to go back the way we came, through Wetherby, or perhaps to Harrogate, since he knows I have an aunt there.’ She waved an imperious hand at him. ‘Please leave me. I cannot waste my breath talking to you and besides, I need to find a path off this road.’

  ‘You were ever a hoyden, Sal.’

  Ben exhaled slowly. He had a strong sense of self-preservation and now it was screaming at him to do as she said and ride away. She was a married woman, lost to him forever. He
had tried for two years to forget the Honourable Serena Coale, but every time he saw her the threads that tied him to her grew stronger. If he was not careful he would find himself more in love with her than ever. He should run. Now.

  ‘Whoa, Morgan.’ He pulled the big roan to the side of the road, blocking her way. ‘If you are determined to run off, then I suppose I must help you.’ He held out his hand to her.

  Sally stared up at him, relief battling with anger and, almost unacknowledged, a tiny chill of fear. He had every reason to hate her, what if he had decided upon some plan to punish her?

  ‘Well, come along. Give me your hand and I will pull you up.’

  His impatient tone roused her temper.

  ‘Oh, pray do not let me put you to any trouble,’ she retorted with awful sarcasm.

  His eyes narrowed.

  ‘If you are not careful my girl I will ride on and leave you to your fate. Now, do you want my help or not?’

  * * *

  For a moment her stormy gaze scorched him, then she reached up for his hand and at the same time put the toe of her dainty boot on his foot to assist her elevation. The next minute she was in his lap. The shock of it took his breath away. He could feel the contours of her frame pressing against him and his body responded immediately to the soft rounded buttocks resting on his thighs. Ben forced his mind to other things.

  ‘So what has he done, this husband of yours, that you are so eager to fly from his arms?’

  There was an instant’s hesitation.

  ‘He is not my husband,’ she said quietly. ‘And his name is not Woods. He is Sir Henry Nettleton. We were eloping.’

  Sally had not intended to tell him that, but his response surprised her. He threw back his head and laughed heartily.

  ‘Oh Sal, you are priceless!’

  ‘I do not see that it is anything to laugh at.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me you were carried away by your passion for that pompous oaf?’

  ‘Of course not.’ She bit her lip. ‘He owns the neighbouring estate and he said he had loved me for many years, only knowing my father would not approve he had never dared to say a word about it.’

  ‘And that was a good enough reason to marry him?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘So why elope? You are of age, you could have married him at Markham, in the teeth of your father’s disapproval.’

  ‘That was not possible.’

  ‘Why not?’

  She fluttered her hand.

  ‘Henry understood the necessity of marrying without my father’s knowledge. I thought he was risking everything to help me, that he might even have to sell his estate and move away to avoid Papa’s wrath.’

  ‘But that is not the case?’

  ‘No.’ Sitting with Ben’s strong arms on either side of her Sally felt very safe, and suddenly she wanted—needed—to explain. ‘It was all a hum, a plan hatched between them. Papa knew I would refuse any suitor he put forward. He told me he had found a match for me, Lord Cromer.’

  ‘Cromer? Why he is as old as your father.’

  ‘I know.’ She nodded miserably. ‘And a horrid old man. Whenever he came to visit Papa he was always trying to pinch or squeeze me.’

  ‘And Markham wanted you to marry him?’

  ‘I thought so, yes.’

  * * *

  Despite the warm sun, a shiver ran down Ben’s spine at the thought of her being married to the old lecher. He did not want her married to anyone. She was so close he was breathing in her perfume, filling his senses with the heady scent of summer flowers. He wanted to bury his face in her rich dark hair, to forget himself in her kiss.

  No! He shifted in the saddle, trying somehow to distance himself from his bewitching burden.

  * * *

  With Ben’s arms close around her, supporting and protecting her, Sally began to relax. His shoulder was conveniently close to her cheek and she was about to rest against him when he straightened.

  ‘We have dawdled too long on this road,’ he said curtly. ‘How long before you are missed?’

  ‘Henry was out walking when I left, but I pinned a note to my door, telling him I was not to be disturbed until twelve o’clock.’

  He consulted his watch.

  ‘It is noon now, but we have no guarantee that Nettleton hasn’t already raised the alarm. Hold on, I am going to set Morgan to the trot.’

  He breathed deep and slow as her arms slid around him. Dear heaven, he must find her a horse of her own or he would explode!

  A mile down the road they reached a village and although the inn was much smaller and clearly did not hold a contract for the mail coaches, the landlord was able to furnish them with a horse and a lady’s saddle, which could be hired for what Sally considered an exorbitant fee.

  ‘I hope you haven’t forgotten how to ride,’ muttered Ben.

  It was a struggle to reply. Her heart was still racing from the feel of his hands about her waist when he threw her up into the saddle.

  ‘Of course not, although I doubt this nag will keep pace with you.’

  ‘We shall see.’

  They set off across the fields, Sally cantering behind Ben and keeping slightly to one side to avoid the clods of mud kicked up by Morgan’s great hooves. When they slowed to rest the horses she came up beside him.

  ‘You seem to know your way very well.’

  ‘I should do. I have travelled here often.’

  ‘Oh?’ she looked up at him. ‘Do you have property in the area?’

  ‘No.’ He hesitated. ‘I have been working for the government.’

  ‘A spy?’

  ‘No, no, nothing so exciting, but the French are trying to turn our Scottish friends against us. I just help to make sure they don’t succeed.’

  ‘So am I keeping you from your duty? I beg your pardon, only I heard you say you were on your way to York...’

  ‘I am on my way to York, and you are not keeping me from my duty,’ he said. ‘My current mission is ended and as soon as I have made my report I am taking leave, and much-deserved it is.’

  She remembered when she had seen him in the taproom, with his wild hair and that thick growth of beard. She said slowly, ‘Is your work dangerous, Ben? I know you always craved adventure. I thought you would one day be a soldier, like Dominic.’

  ‘My father was very much against it, and certainly would not buy me a commission. If he had been willing I would have accepted eagerly. Especially after you gave me my congé.’

  Sally sank her teeth into her lower lip and kept her eyes fixed at some spot between the horse’s ears. She had apologised, there was nothing more to say.

  It seemed Ben agreed with her, for after a short silence he asked her what she intended to do once they reached York.

  ‘I shall take the stage to Murton. I have friends there who will take me in.’

  ‘What I don’t understand is why you ran off with Henry in the first place.’

  Sitting on the hired nag with a chill wind blowing, Sally felt very alone and disinclined to explain, she did not want to think of the consequences if Henry or her father should catch up with her.

  ‘It was necessary,’ she said shortly, casting an anxious look around her. ‘Shall we press on?’

  * * *

  Ben touched his heels to Morgan’s flanks and they were off again, galloping across the open country. He kept a steady pace, slower than he was wont to travel since the hired mare was struggling to
keep up. He thought back to those far-away school holidays he had spent with Sally’s brothers, Jasper and Dominic, at Markham. Then Sally’s mount had been a spirited beast, capable of showing the way over the roughest ground. She was a fearless rider and he had been anxious for her safety, but also proud of her ability to master any horse in her father’s stable. He remembered the pleasure of racing neck and neck with her across the open ground, recalled her delight when she won by a nose, and his own happiness when she smiled at him....

  With a silent curse he dragged his thoughts back to the present. She had tricked him cruelly. Her brothers had been in London, setting the town alight and making a reputation for themselves as wicked flirts. He should have realised their sister would be no different. Whatever scrape she was in now she had brought on herself. When they reached York he would go his own way and forget her.

  You have not done so, thus far.

  The insidious voice in his head taunted him and with a growl of frustration he urged Morgan on, finding some relief in a headlong gallop. However, it meant that when he reached the small copse where they must leave the open ground and join the road into York, he was obliged to wait for Sally to catch up with him. Memories crowded him, the easy way she handled the horse, the added sparkle the exertion brought to her dark eyes. He pushed the thoughts away; he would not allow her to bewitch him again. As soon as she was close he turned Morgan toward the road.

  ‘We should take a more sedate pace from here if we are not to attract attention.’ He kept his eyes fixed ahead. ‘I will escort you to the booking office and then find the inn where that rascally landlord said I was to leave his mare.’

  ‘Thank you. You are very good.’

  Her tone was subdued. Was she anxious about taking the stage? He reminded himself it was not his concern.

  * * *

  ‘The booking office is over there. I will get you down.’

  Sally was quite capable of alighting unaided from the little mare, but she waited for Ben to help her. For a moment he held her, suspended in mid-air. She was at his mercy, helpless, aware of his hands spanning her waist, his face slightly below hers. Suddenly she was back in the stables at Markham, sliding into his arms, putting her hands on his shoulders as he lowered her slowly so that she could kiss his mouth. Did he still taste of salt and fresh air?