by Amy Sandas
Jude flinched at the comment. She was wrong. His father would never have shirked his duties as Jude had done. The prior earl had behaved with honor and respect in all circumstances. Jude was nothing like him, though maybe someday he would be. He had to believe it was possible or he never would have come home.
He set his tea on the small table before him and stood. Though they were going to have to continue to disagree on the subject, and he was convinced most of her reaction was an extreme exaggeration, he still didn’t want his mother to be unnecessarily upset.
“Look, Mother, I know you and Father didn’t see eye to eye on many things, but I also know you managed to make things work in spite of that. I hope you can trust me to do the same.”
Helena turned to look up at her son as he had come to stand next to her. Though her eyes were dry, it was clear that not all of her theatrics were put on.
“I cannot imagine what I must have done to deserve a life plagued by so many eccentric personalities.” Her sharp blue eyes narrowed dangerously as she pointed a manicured finger at his chest. “And let’s be clear, young man, I do not rant nor rave. That describes the behavior of a fishwife, which I most certainly am not.”
Jude smiled, realizing she was willing to accede for the moment. “Understood. My sincere apologies, Mother. I promise I will try to cause you as little distress as possible.”
“Well, that’s more than I can say for others,” Helena replied with a long-suffering sigh as she turned away from the window and returned to her seat. She carefully arranged her skirts before reaching for her tea. “Have you gone to see her yet?” Jude detected a keen note of curiosity in her tone.
“Have I gone to see whom, Mother?”
Helena’s smile was suspiciously pleasant. “Why, the countess, of course.”
Jude thought of the brazen woman who held that title. He couldn’t imagine how his very genteel mother managed to tolerate the woman who now claimed the position she had held with supreme refinement and grace.
“No, I haven’t,” he answered shortly. He wasn’t about to explain to her how he had already been reunited with the lady in question.
“Well, I hope that when you finally do, you give the girl something to worry about. She needs to be put in her place. God knows your father would never do it, and I certainly tried. But she is more stubborn than anyone I know. It is well past time for her to end her disgraceful amusements and settle into her role properly. She is not the countess I would have chosen for you, but maybe you can manage to put an end to her inexcusable behavior once and for all. Someone needs to properly shame that girl.”
Jude waited until his mother finished espousing upon her daughter-in-law’s character.
“What exactly does she do, Mother, that upsets you so?”
“What does she do?” his mother exclaimed with widening eyes. “What doesn’t she do?”
Jude’s mood darkened and he came forward and took a seat on the sofa beside her. “You are going to have to be a little more specific if you want me to do anything about it.”
Helena shook her head, warming up to the drama of the conversation. “I don’t even know if I can say it.”
Jude thought of the deceitful seductress he had been confronted with the other night. His mother’s reticence had him starting to consider the worst.
“Mother?” he prompted.
“She is in business. A tradeswoman!”
Jude’s mind jumped around as he tried to think of what his wife could possibly be in the business of. What did she have that others would pay for? He couldn’t help visualizing her as he had seen her last, wrapped in silk and satin, her hair in artful disarray, her lips full from his kisses, her eyes flashing with passion.
Surely not.
“What kind of business, Mother?”
“When you go to Suffolk, you’ll see. And to think, your father encouraged the whole thing.”
Jude scowled. Was his mother being intentionally confusing? What had his father encouraged? “Why would I need to go to Suffolk?”
“Well, that’s where she lives. She purchased the old Thornwood place. That’s where she runs her wretched venture,” Helena answered in surprise as if the reason should be obvious.
“Why doesn’t she live here?”
“She hasn’t lived here for years. She and I don’t exactly get along.” Helena looked at him with a crease between her fine shaped brows. “Didn’t you discover anything about your wife during those days you were in London?” she asked with clear disappointment. Then she added, “Oh right, she doesn’t use the family name. Likely you didn’t think to ask around town for information on a Mrs. Locke.”
Jude stared at his mother. What on earth was going on in his family?
“Don’t look at me as if I’m addlepated, dear.” She took a dainty sip of her tea and smiled over the rim with innocent eyes. She was more than pleased that she had managed to return the favor and stun him into speechlessness. “You have a lot to catch up on. Better get to it.”
Chapter Five
“A toast to the damn cleverest horse trader I have ever had the privilege to haggle with over the proper price of a filly.”
“Here! Here!” Shouts of jubilation went up around the crowded table at the back of the small pub located near the training runs at Newmarket.
“And here’s to a friend who has never steered me wrong and gave me candid advice even when I stubbornly insisted I knew what I was doing.”
“And we all know you’re never wrong, Peney,” someone joked from the crowd, causing a wave of good-natured laughter.
The speaker bowed his head with a grin of humble acceptance and continued. “We are all lucky to have as our associate, our friend and our conscience—” more chuckles rolled through the crowded room, “—such an excellent judge of horseflesh and an exemplary character all around. To Anna Locke!”
“Here! Here! To Anna!” The crowd shouted and hurrahed then they all tipped back their heads and downed the flagons of ale they had been holding patiently while Lord Peney finished his little speech.
Anna set her empty flagon down on the table with a nod and a smile of deep satisfaction. Lord Peney accepted hearty handshakes and claps of congratulations on his back amid wide grins and joking revelry.
Lord Peney’s filly had won her first race that morning and brought in a pretty purse for any who had backed her as she had not been favored to win. In fact, Lord Peney almost hadn’t purchased the winning thoroughbred. But when he’d come to Anna looking for a racer, she had steered him toward the filly even though the young horse came from an unknown sire. The stallion was one of Anna’s own, and she had been convinced of the young racer’s potential. Luckily, Peney had trusted her judgment. Today’s win was likely to be one of many.
After any race, track aficionados, owners and other horse nuts who hung around the Newmarket races would come down to the Fox & Grouse to enjoy a celebratory meal. It was Lord Peney’s first time in the winning circle and he was enjoying every minute of it, judging by his heightened color and sparkling gaze.
Anna smiled again as she looked across the table at him. He had always reminded her a bit of her father-in-law. Something about his kind and open expression, she supposed.
“Would you accept a cigar in honor of my win, Mrs. Locke?” Lord Peney asked very sweetly as he pulled a narrow box from his pocket. “I brought these along just in case, though I wasn’t sure at all that I would have the opportunity to light them.”
Anna smiled mischievously. “You should have asked me. I could have told you to bring a whole case of the things. And I would be honored to smoke with you, sir.”
She reached across the table and accepted the cigar. She had learned years ago that everyone had their own way of honoring a win, and most owners, if they had purchased their horses from her, wished to include her in their little ritual. She had also learned that it did no good to refuse. Besides, camaraderie was good for business.
With the cigar lit, An
na brought it to her lips and puffed carefully. The first time she had tried one, she’d nearly died from choking after accidentally inhaling the pungent smoke. As she blew out a thick gray cloud, a full flagon of ale was set before her. She looked up to smile at the barmaid, but before she could utter a thank you, her heart froze as she caught sight of a new arrival.
The Earl of Blackbourne stood just inside the door of the small pub room. He was dressed simply in riding breeches and a woolen jacket not unlike her own. His pale curls had been attractively tousled by the wind, but the aristocracy in his bearing was unmistakable. His bright blue glare cut through the crowded, dark and airless little room and pierced her with stony scrutiny.
It was as if the entire room had frozen along with that significant organ behind her ribs. As she stared back at him, not quite sure what else to do, she couldn’t help to consider how she must look to him. She sat at a rough wooden table amidst gentlemen, stablemen, jockeys and men in the general business of racing and horseflesh. But even the company she kept wasn’t as surprising to him, she supposed, as the fact that she was not wearing the clothing of a lady. And though she had wound her hair tightly into a twisted knot at the back of her head, several black strands had slid free throughout the day. Not a very polished appearance and miles away from how she had looked at their last encounter.
His eyes flickered and his firmly curved lips lifted at one corner in what could be a sneer or an indication of disgust. That was when Anna remembered she had a flagon of ale in one hand and a smoking cigar in the other. For some reason, it struck her as terribly funny and she couldn’t resist a reflexive smile. What must the poor man be thinking of her? Good God, she wouldn’t be surprised if at that very moment he was considering which asylum he should shut her away in.
Her amusement fled as Jude started toward her table. Dammit, he probably saw her smile as an invitation, or a challenge, she amended, as she noted the fierce expression on his face. A cold shock of fear ran down her spine as the blue of his eyes turned to black. Then she reminded herself where they were. They were on her ground with her people. What could he do to her with so many around her who would jump to her defense?
She relaxed then and took a drink of the rich ale, her eyes shining over the rim as she noted her husband’s narrowed gaze focused on the cigar resting between her fingers.
By now, his presence had been noticed by others in the room, particularly, those at Anna’s table. Lord Peney, ever the gentleman, stood as Jude approached.
“Good day, my lord,” the older man addressed Jude with a smile. “Have you come to join in the celebrations?”
Jude didn’t even glance at the speaker. His gaze remained trained on Anna. He clearly didn’t intend to be sociable. His superior attitude and outright rudeness rubbed raw on her frazzled nerves.
“Lord Peney just won his first race,” she explained in an attempt to lighten the tension that thickened as Jude refused to answer the polite inquiry. “Won’t you sit and have some ale? If you behave, you may even get a cigar.” She hadn’t intended to be so provoking, but the last sentence just sort of came out.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Anna stiffened at the stark anger in his voice. The teasing smile slid from her mouth. What on earth was he so bloody angry about?
“Actually,” she replied in a sweet and even tone, “I can be found at this establishment quite often. It is you, my lord, who are foreign to this place.” She smiled again and lifted her finely arched brows as she repeated his question. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She was not accustomed to being glared at with such stiffly controlled hostility.
If she wished it, any number of the men in the room would step up to defend her. Nearly everyone was now focused on the little scene playing out between Anna and the strange lord. It was exactly the kind of spectacle she abhorred.
“Mrs. Locke, may I be of some assistance to you?” It was Lord Peney asking in a tone deepened by chivalrous concern.
Anna glanced about and saw that several others had stepped closer to her table. No, this was not how she wanted this to go. She could not have her personal drama aired before all and sundry. She shouldn’t have been so provoking in such a public place. She stood and turned to the kind older man who would have championed her.
“Thank you, Peney, but I believe it is time for me to be on my way. Congratulations on your win,” she said extending her hand to shake his. She smiled reassuringly. “It is well deserved. And if you wish to expand the experience, you know where to find me.”
Anna stepped out from behind the table and turned toward the back of the pub. Before she could go another step, she was brought up short by Jude’s hand wrapped around her upper arm. Several chairs scraped across the wooden floor as men pushed to their feet, not liking the sight of her being handled in such a way.
“Where do you think you are going?” Jude growled.
Anna stopped and looked over her shoulder, making sure her smile was relaxed. “I am going out back to where my horse is stabled,” she replied with amazing calm, though her own anger rolled through her at his heavy-handedness. “You may accompany me, like a gentleman,” she stressed. “Or I suppose you could be thrown out, if you insist on being brutish.”
His hand was warm and secure around her arm and he stood close enough that she could detect the smell of his horse and the fresh Suffolk air as it emanated from his person. She glanced up at his face, just inches from hers, and noted the sharp warning in his gaze.
“You are quite sure of yourself with your pack of hounds surrounding you,” he whispered. “But what will you do once you and I are alone?”
He dared to threaten her? Anna nearly slapped him. But she controlled her fury. She couldn’t wait to get her husband somewhere private so she could tell him what she really thought of his little show. She turned to precede him toward the back of the pub, eager to be outside and away from curious and concerned spectators. Jude released her arm and turned back to address the room before following her out.
“My wife will no longer to be known as Mrs. Locke. She is the Countess of Blackbourne and you will address her as such or I will know why.”
Anna heard his little speech and clenched her fists as she took long and furious strides to the large stable behind the Fox & Grouse.
The bloody arse! He had no right. She had spent years separating herself from his family and her blighted marriage, years of hard work that had finally started to gain her some respect in a world not known to be welcoming to women. One of the reasons people came to her was because they trusted her to be totally up front and honest. And he may have just blasted her reputation to bits with his careless, possessive words. Damn him to bloody hell!
She didn’t stop until she was in the dark shelter of the dusty stables. She stalked to her horse’s stall, but rather than reach for the mare, she whirled around to squarely face her husband. He was only a few steps behind her, as if he didn’t trust her to get too far out of his sight. She didn’t try to hide the fury rolling through her. In fact, she almost flew across the space with her compelling desire to slap away the look of complete self-righteousness on his face.
“You half-witted, arrogant, asinine bastard! You have absolutely no right to strut into my life and behave in such a deplorable fashion. Your actions will reflect upon me and I will not be brought down by your complete lack of manners and your twisted sense of acceptable conduct. If you want to behave like a reprobate savage, then go back to your own wasted existence somewhere else and leave me the hell alone!”
Anna had never lost her temper like that in her entire life. And as she caught her breath after the long expulsion of her fear and fury, she felt relief. Brief, however, because a second later, Jude approached her with menacing slowness. He had stood still while she had railed her accusations, but now she could see he wasn’t going to just let her insult him and then turn and be on his way. It had been a foolish hope, she realized, as she tens
ed for the backlash of his obvious anger.
Anna lifted her chin and glared at him, daring him to retaliate. She didn’t want him to see that he still made her very nervous. His blue-black eyes, his unsmiling face and that strange physical awareness in every tiny fiber of her body. It was something she had noticed when she was young, the sense of always feeling more alive when she was near him. But the sensation was made all the more potent by the memory of how he had touched her and kissed her and held her the other night at the masquerade.
Damn, but she had really messed herself up with that ill-conceived escapade.
He stepped up to her until he stood only a hand’s reach away. His lip curled into a sneer before he spoke and his voice was low and heavy with loathing.
“That was a pretty little tirade, wife. I almost believe you are truly concerned with what just happened in there. But you’re tougher than that, aren’t you? You haven’t changed that much from the deceitful little creature who crawled into my bed in a disgusting play to get what you wanted.”
Anna froze at his crude reference to what had occurred so long ago. That morning haunted her still. She could still see the look on his face; the abject terror in his sleep-clouded eyes. Then the slow-creeping understanding. Followed by the stark repulsion and pure hatred.
He was looking at her now with the same expression. She steeled herself against the aching it caused her heart. She had thought that organ damaged beyond repair, but apparently it existed with just enough strength to cause her more pain. She resorted to disdain in defense.
Her smile was sly and provocative. “As I recall, you weren’t in too much of a hurry to jump from your bed that morning. Something managed to keep you there long enough to get caught.”
Jude snarled like a caged animal and lunged for her. He grasped her shoulders and pushed her back against the rough wood of the stable wall. He pressed full length against her, holding her in place. Panic speared through her bones. He wouldn’t really hurt her, would he? Her head fell back and she looked up at him, refusing to let him see how he frightened her. She smiled, her expression wicked and taunting. “What’s the matter, husband? The truth too much for you?”
