Chelynne (7 page)

Her young escort thought himself to be well in control of the situation, leading Chelynne down a road that put Hawthorne House farther and farther behind them. His horse was not nearly so young and fine, but he was little concerned with that. His thoughts all revolved around what secluded place he could find and whether or not she would let him have a kiss.

Chelynne eased the mare along carefully, learning her temperament with unhurried grace. Summer pranced a bit, but Chelynne showed her firmly who was mistress of the reins and she quieted again. Her escort praised her control and ability, but Chelynne had almost forgotten he was there. She was completely absorbed in the horse.

The trees that bordered their path grew thicker as they moved farther into the countryside. Mischief sparked her. She saw her chance and took the reins in a determined grip, much to Summer’s confusion. A well-placed heel sent the mare bounding off the road and through the trees, leaving a much-bemused groom shouting at her back and trying in vain to follow. She rode in lighthearted abandon, finding this sport of losing an escort even more to her liking in this alien place. It wasn’t long before there was no sound behind her and she was shed of him.

Chelynne had an uncanny sense of direction in the out-of-doors. In a mansion like the one she would occupy she could become lost and disoriented in no time, but where there was a sky above and trees all about her, she was at home. The maze of rooms in the manor house was still confusing to her; she was a little afraid to venture through Hawthorne House alone. But that didn’t worry her as she rode. She could sense her way.

The countryside was beautiful and the ride refreshing. She found the familiar road and eased Summer into a trot. She wondered if she would find an angry groom waiting or if a party of searchers would have to be sent out to find him. She thought briefly about going after him but a fierce pounding of horse hooves behind her quickly changed her mind.

She turned to see a great black stallion with a rider astride who seemed as large and fearsome as the beast. Instantly afraid of this assailant, she squealed and urged her horse into a faster gait. Summer was tired from her ride and could not best the stallion given any advantage. Chelynne took the only chance open to her and turned Summer into the trees, hoping for escape in the wood. He was close at her back.

Her plan turned to folly as she came through that small copse into a clearing that seemed to stretch for miles ahead. She would surely become swift prey, but not without a fight. When he grabbed her reins, she threw herself to the ground and started away on foot. Ten steps, perhaps twelve, were taken when she felt his arm go about her waist and she was hurled to the ground.

Chelynne was stunned by the impact of her fall. The first sound reviving her was that of hooves beating the ground as her frightened mare fled the scene. He held his stallion in tow, preventing his chase of the mare. The face above her cleared and she looked into angry gray eyes.

“What the hell are you about?” he demanded.

She couldn’t manage a reply and found she didn’t have to. He walked away from her to a nearby bush and tethered his horse. As he accomplished the task he looked in her direction, his brows drawn together in a black scowl. She trembled at the sight of him.

“Where did you come by that horse?”

“The Hawthorne stables, sir,” she fairly chattered.

“And how did you gain permission to use her?”

“The groom saddled the one I selected,” she responded dully.

“His name?”

“Sir?”

“His name! The one who saddled the horse!”

“I...I didn’t ask.”

“So, one of my grooms just gave you the horse of your choice, just like that?”

“Your groom?”

“My groom! My horse, in fact! I would know your intention. Were you planning to steal the mare?”

“No, sir!”

“The men tending the stables are given strict orders not to lend out any horse but on my approval or the earl’s. I cannot believe that one of them would give you a horse, much less that one.”

“I didn’t take the horse without permission! The earl said I might have the mount of my choice. I am his guest.”

“A member of the Mondeloy party?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The same,” she replied coolly, standing to brush the dirt off her skirt.

“My father,” he muttered, as if vexed. “By not letting me handle my own affairs he ruins virtually every project I set my mind to. That horse was to be a gift to my bride. It was brought to my knowledge that she enjoys a ride. Now we must hope that the mare knows the way home. It’s not a beast I should like to part with.”

Chelynne watched him with wide, disbelieving eyes. This was to be her husband? Nothing about him resembled the earl. He was tall of stature, his chest broad and muscled, and he was fiercely dark, perhaps the mark of some Bourbon ancestry. Lean and handsome, he had jet-black hair, and his jaw was set in a firm, square line. His clothing would never give him away as nobility, for he was garbed in breeches and a tunic of animal hide, and at his waist was fastened a crude knife and not a sword. The boots were well worn and his hat, which he now struck with vicious intent against one thigh, gave evidence of a long and dusty ride.

“And what part of the bride’s party are you? Cousin to my betrothed, serving girl, perhaps?”

“I serve my lady closer than any, my lord,” she said softly.

“She’s lenient with her servants, then,” he snorted. “Sit, we’ll take a rest and let the horse blow before going back.” He dropped to the ground without giving her any further consideration. A blade of grass was pulled from its stalk and stuck between his teeth as he looked off into the distance.

Chelynne dropped down to the ground as well, carefully tucking her dress in around her knees. A quick survey told her they were secluded, and she was left to stare at his back, wondering at this strange, beautiful man. She had never dared hope for this. He was magnificent.

When he turned to look at her, she jumped in surprise. He chuckled, running his eyes slowly over her. When they met eyes again, his were sparked with mischief. “Well, tell me then, is my intended going to give me a bony ride or will I be lost in mounds of fat?”

“My lord?”

“Is she too fat or too thin?”

“Why...neither, my lord.”

“Come now, I know you’re loyal, most servant girls are. But I would know my fate. Is she terribly ugly?”

Chelynne lifted her chin a notch. “I’ve heard some say she is beautiful.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he said as if doubting it heartily. “Whatever young gallant is seeking her dowry would find her a handsome pet. But what do you think of her? The truth now. Is she at least bearable to look upon?”

“My lord, I know of no gallant to speak of my lady and I think her fair of face.”

“And her figure?”

Chelynne blushed. Her whole being seemed to burn with embarrassment. But she could see that what the earl said was true. He was not eager for his bride. “Much as my own. In truth we are the same size.”

“That I cannot believe,” he huffed. “If she has a body like yours, she must have the face of a mule.”

“My lord!”

“My lord, my lord...My name is Chadwick Hawthorne and while we are alone in the country and forced to ride one horse home, you may call me Chad. Your name?”

“Che...Charla.” She looked away nervously.

“Does something trouble you, my dear?” She lowered her eyes and pinkened a little bit more. “Well, you’re the finest thing that’s come of this wedding thus far. Will you be staying with your lady?”

“Until she dies, my lord,” she murmured.

“She must have a great deal of confidence to dangle you before my eyes.” He reclined on the earth, his head braced on his hand, and studied her leisurely. His gray eyes smoked over with a warm and liquid darkness. She looked into them then and saw a tenderness that she loved at once. It was at that moment that her head began to swell with dreams of what would come to pass between them. She had already fallen in love with him.

“You are not eager for your bride?” she asked softly.

“Hell, why should I be?”

“She brings a dowry...”

“That I could have bargained for without the promise of marriage. I would gladly have changed gold for the land and left her more fixed for other proposals. How many nobles want property in Jamaica? Many want gold.”

“You do not wish to marry?”

“Not under the circumstances,” he muttered.

“Whatever could be as serious as that?” she asked innocently.

“Oh no, my little lamb,” he laughed. “You’ll not wheedle my life’s story out of me. Your lady would hear about it straightaway.” He reached out and crushed the silky softness of her hair in one hand. “I would much prefer a wife of my own choice, that is all.”

“Mayhaps when you meet her you will find she is your choice.”

“Life is never so kind as that, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “Yet I think for once fate has dealt me a gift in lieu of the usual blow. I had not hoped she would bring such a lovely maiden with her.”

“You flatter—”

“I don’t flatter...ever. I’m sure you’ve been told often enough how beautiful you are. It is a simple fact. I’ll not mind looking at you too much.”

“You would be a bold husband for any woman,” she whispered.

“I’m afraid, darling, that I wouldn’t be much of a husband for any woman at this time in my life. Just the same, a satisfactory lover.”

“My lord, you take too much liberty...”

She lowered her eyes, for his stare seemed to penetrate her very soul. When she dared to look at him again he was watching her still, his eyes dark, smoky and filled with lust. She couldn’t seem to escape them and she was falling, helplessly. She realized with some surprise that he had slipped a hand around her neck and was pulling her to him, slowly and steadily. She could summon no resistance. Their lips met and a wave of excitement spiraled through her, causing her stomach to jump involuntarily. She could concentrate on nothing but the bold urgency of his mouth and the warmth of his breath.

With a quick movement she was pulled down beside him and he rose over her to kiss her again, obviously experienced in his passion. She put her hands to his chest with the intention of pushing him away, but the signal her brain gave her limbs was lost and instead her arms went around him to hold him to her. One large hand found the small of her back and pulled her hard against him while another found her breast. A low moan escaped her as her desire mounted. She was lost in this wild and beautiful madness. Her breath came in shallow panting gasps. She had never lived before now. He covered her with his long lean body and she felt his masculine desire hard against her thigh. A vision of them tumbling naked on the grass before they had even been introduced came to her mind and with a cry of panic she wiggled away from him, pulling her clothing around her.

At some distance now and perched on her knees, she trembled from ardor stirred and her own fierce abandon. He stared at her with like shock, with equal parts of frustration.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

“F-forgive me, my lord,” she stammered, brightening in color. “I can’t say what came over me.”

“Come, sweetheart,” he urged. “I won’t hurt you.”

“No, my lord,” she murmured. “I cannot.”

“There’s no need to fear my touch. I’ll be gentle with you.”

“Please,” she said with a half sob. “Don’t...”

“Are you afraid?”

She nodded her head pathetically, tears threatening to spill. He studied her for a moment and took some deep breaths. He was resentful of her sudden reluctance in a way only a man can understand, but he was not oblivious to her youth. He reached out a hand to caress her cheek and she turned pleading eyes to him. “Are you a virgin?”

Again she nodded and looked away, totally ashamed of her passionate display, yet stirred no small bit by the sensuality of her intended groom.

“Well,” he said, getting to his feet. “Never let it be said that I forced a young virgin.” He ran his eyes over her again, appreciatively. “Let me offer you some advice, maiden. Never toy with me again unless it is your intention to finish what you start. You may find your maidenhead stolen before you can offer it next time.”

“You’re kind, my lord.”

“Kind? Not I,” he laughed. “Patient, sweetheart, but not kind.” He bowed slightly so that his face would be closer to hers and said softly, “I think the best tactic now is to keep only good feelings between us.”

“But you’re to be married!”

He laughed again and his smile was bright and wild. “I think my poor wife will have a hard time keeping me from you. You’re a tempting parcel.”

“I’m glad you find me so,” she said softly, her eyes bright with love and longing.

“Then let’s be off, Charla. I would have you home and see to the mare.”

“My lord, there’s something I must explain...”

“Speak no more of it,” he said, waving her off with a hand. “I understand your reluctance. Think better on it next time.”

“But my lord, it’s—”

“Never mind. I hope you’ll consider your motives more carefully and in time come to me willingly.”