After The Storm (7 page)

Chapter Six

The sun sliced through the fog as Miranda slipped noiselessly out the kitchen door and made her way to Thorpeton Hall’s stables. At one stall, she reached up to rub a bay mare’s velvety nose. “Feel like a run, Lady Jane?”

The mare’s ears twitched as she nosed about in hopes of a treat, and Miranda laughed as she guided her from her stall to saddle her. She needed this respite from the stuffy music and drawing rooms.

The air was crisp and cold, and the sky was surprisingly blue as she set out toward the woods surrounding Thorpeton Hall. Her breath emerged in silvery clouds as she urged Lady Jane into a cantor. It was a glorious morning and, dressed in her most comfortable breeches and a billowy white shirt she’d purloined from her best friend Duncan ages ago, she felt more like her old self.

Despite the sun, dampness weighted the air, and held the clean, refreshing scent of rain. She breathed deep, savored the mossy scent of fresh air, and guided Lady Jane toward a bridle path between two large hawthorn trees.

There was nothing she loved more than being on horseback, especially when she didn’t have to sit sidesaddle, and the ride did much to lift her spirits, not to mention ease the heaviness from her thoughts. It was a lovely day, if a bit cool, and time ceased to matter as she explored the paths winding through Thorpeton Hall’s tranquil woods.

By the time she made her way back toward the stables, her head was clear and her thoughts unmuddled. A perfect way to begin her day. Now she could look forward to her lessons.

“Well, a good morning to you, my lady.”

Startled, Miranda jerked hard on Lady Jane’s reins and drew her up short as another horse and rider emerged from the woods with the snap and crackle of dead leaves.

“Your Grace?” She squinted into the bright sunlight. Perhaps she was mistaken. Surely dukes didn’t jaunt about unaccompanied, did they? Shouldn’t he have a valet, or a keeper, or something of the sort?

“A good morning to you, Miss MacDonough.”

Horse and rider neared and she saw it was, indeed, Hugh Thorpeton. Her belly toppled over, but she was calm otherwise as she said, “A good morning to you as well, Your Grace.”

He held up an ungloved hand. The Duke of Thorpeton was no dandy, if he cared so little about the condition of his hands he rode without gloves. Somehow, she wasn’t at all surprised.

“Please, I must insist you drop that silly ‘Your Grace’. I find it quite tiresome to no longer have a name, but only a title.”

“Then how shall I address you?” The pert question popped out on its own and with it went every last one of her lady lessons. She forgot all about showing at least
some
reverence at speaking with a duke. “I cannot possibly call you ‘Hugh’, and ‘Oy, you!’ is right out, I’m afraid.”

His laugh boomed forth like a clap of thunder. “No, they wouldn’t do at all, I’m afraid. If you like, Thorpeton is fine. I’ll not spill to your aunt or chaperone of your liberty.” He peered over one shoulder, than the other, and finally twisted about in his saddle. “Speaking of Mrs. Anderson…gave her the slip, did you? I assume she has taken over your life.”

Angry heat flared through her. “Och, I dinna need a chaperone, laddie. Do you see any danger about? Do the birds prey upon unsuspecting riders, perhaps?”

Hugh shook his head and swung down from his mount. A wince accompanied his first step, but then vanished. He closed the gap between them to catch Lady Jane by her halter. “And how is it you are so confident
I
am not the danger?”

She snorted without thinking. “I dinna fear
you
. I know your weakness.”

“My weakness?”

“You’ve easily flattened feet,” she retorted, and tossed her braid over her shoulder.

He stared for a long moment. Perhaps she’d insulted him. It was so difficult to tell what he thought or felt, as he was quite adept at keeping his expression neutral.

Silence stretched as she waited for him to say something,
anything.
Was he going to laugh again? Scold? Drat it all, why didn’t he say
something
before she did something else foolish, such as start to fidget or stammer as she tried to explain herself?

He cleared his throat. “I had not considered it a weakness until this moment. I thank you for pointing out my fatal flaw.”

As a smile accompanied his words, relief returned her tongue to its normal, acerbic state. “You’re welcome. Now, if you’d not mind, I’d like to continue my ride.”

“A young lady ought not venture about unchaperoned. Think of your reputation.”

She sniffed. “My reputation has only mattered since I arrived here. Back home, everyone knows everyone else’s business. If a lass allows liberties, everyone knows come morning. Consequently, if nothing happened, that makes the rounds as well, though perhaps not as quickly.”

Humor glinted in his eyes. “Ah, but you are not back home. And as you are here, you need take care if you do not want your name tarnished. One never knows how the gossips will twist the smallest indiscretion.”

Truer words had never been spoken. Geography never mattered, as gossip always traveled faster than truth, faster than light, actually. And if the rumor was not a juicy enough
bon mot
, there were few ladies above spicing it as necessary.

However, that was unlikely to be a problem at the moment. The trees told no tales, juicy or otherwise.

“A pox on my reputation. I care not.” She shifted in the saddle. “I think it quite silly that I am nearly twenty-five years of age, yet I am still in need of being cared for. A silly notion, indeed. Why, back home, I jaunted about wherever my heart desired and no one thought any less of me for it. Nor did they trouble themselves over whose company I chose to keep. Live and let live, I say.”

“Do you, now?” His voice rose in disbelief.

“You’ve not yet released my horse, Your Grace. Please, do so at once.” Miranda fought to control the uncomfortable flutters in her belly as he lifted his gaze to hers. It was unnerving, how he stared, how he seemed so reluctant to look anywhere
but
at her. Not many men chose to stare at her at all. Perhaps she had a smudge of something on her face? Was that the reason for his unwavering gaze? She refrained from swiping at her cheeks just to be certain.

“Need I remind you, this is not
your
horse? And why do I have the feeling my groom is scratching his head over the empty stall, wondering what happened to Lady Jane?”

Guilt flashed through her, but it didn’t stop her from shrugging carelessly. “Perhaps he ought to pay closer attention to his horses, then.”

“Tell me, do you often take it upon yourself to steal?”

She glared at him. “I didn’t
steal
her. I
borrowed
her. Stealing makes it sound as though I planned to keep her and I have every intention of returning her to her stall, as brushed and comfortable as if she’d never left.”

“So you
do
make a habit of it.”

He didn’t seem angry, but his stare intensified. Again she wondered if she had a smudge of something on her face. Drat it all, why didn’t he look away? “Stop staring at me.”

He didn’t avert his gaze, but at least he blinked. “You didn’t answer me.”

She scowled. “Nor do I intend to.”

“Oh, come now, Miss MacDonough, I am but only concerned with your reputation. You wouldn’t want someone else mistaking your
borrowing
for thievery, would you?”

Her well-being. What nonsense. “
Concerned
with my reputation? A laugh, that.” She chuckled and wagged a forefinger at him. “I know your sort, laddie. My reputation is
not
what you are interested in. Please, dinna take me for a fool, now.”

“Do tell, my lady, what might I be interested in?”

Sitting back in her saddle, she perused him with the same care she’d take with a prized stallion, eyes narrowed as she surveyed him top to bottom. “You are thinking of how you might steal a kiss from me, and not have your ears boxed. You hope I will simply swoon in your arms and allow you to take whatever liberties you choose.”

Twin frosty clouds rose from his nose as he snorted inelegantly. “I should hate to disillusion you, but you
do
recall meeting my future intended last evening, do you not?”

A sharp reminder, indeed. She straightened and offered up a disdainful sniff. “Future intended, you say. If it is such a certainty, why haven’t you asked for her hand yet?”

His smug grin melted away. Though he didn’t scowl, he most definitely was
not
pleased with her bluntness. Well, there was nothing she could do about that now. She frowned at the thick silence. Bloody hell. When was she going to learn? Not only had she just met the man, but ladies didn’t go about calling a gentleman’s bluff. Heat bloomed in her cheeks.

To her surprise, Hugh’s expression softened. “I am afraid I have no answer. I am but waiting for the right moment.”

“The right moment, you say?” She shrugged. “Sounds tae me verra much like an excuse.”

He went rigid and he tersely retorted, “I fail to see how it is any concern of yours.”

His scolding didn’t trouble her. After all, Mrs. Anderson scolded her almost every hour. Passing the reins from her left hand to her right, she shrugged, adding a sour, “It just seems tae me tha’ if ye wished tae marry her, ye’d have asked long afore now.”

His brow returned to its normal position and his long sigh was a bit of a surprise, as was his, “Yes, that’s true.” He released Lady Jane’s halter and stepped back. “Although, you are the first to have the gall to mention it, you know.”

It wasn’t fair to take her foul mood out on him, and she regretted bringing up the sore subject at all. “I am afraid I often speak my mind before thinking through what it is I wish to say. It drives Aunt Arabella mad.”

Still unsmiling, he nodded. “I imagine it does.”

Her gaze wandered to the thicket of hawthorn trees behind him. It was easier to look at them than it was to look at him. “If I have crossed a line, I do apologize. Perhaps it is none of my concern, but it strikes me odd.”

“No need to apologize. As you said, perhaps it is but an excuse.”

She shivered as the wind picked up. The sun offered up feeble light, and even more feeble warmth. Her hands were cold despite her heavy gloves and she wanted only to return to Thorpeton Hall. “We ought not be discussing it, Your Grace. As you pointed out, it is none of my concern.”

“I don’t really mind.” He turned and limped back to his steed and carefully hoisted himself into the saddle. Twisting about, he tossed a devilish grin over one shoulder. “Care to come along? If you wish, I’ll show you around a bit.”

This after his great concern for her reputation? A surprise, to say the least, and an invitation that set her heart to beat in double time. Tempting, but the risk of being caught was too great. And then there was problem of her absence being noticed if she didn’t return soon. Impossible. It was time to become a lady once again.

“I thank you for the offer but I probably ought think about going back. I’m fairly certain my absence
must
have been noticed by now, and I’d rather not suffer through another lecture. I’ve grown rather weary of them, you see.”

He seemed surprised by her response. “Another lecture?”

She nodded and reached down to rub Lady Jane’s neck. “It seems I am quite the disgrace when it comes to being a lady. I fail to meet your
ton
’s expectations time and again.” She glanced back at him. “You saw for yourself.”