DD-Michaels-END.rtf (18 page)

"God, but you're magnificent!" Ethan yelled to her as she smiled triumphantly at him, her delight dancing in her eyes. She was fearless, unafraid to take him on as an equal, to even best him, if she could.

"And you!" Morgan shouted, but the wind snatched her words, even as Ethan urged Alejandro forward, the Andalusian showing his dominance by moving away almost as if the straining Berengaria was standing still.

"Enough, sweetheart. It's not a defeat if you choose on your own to withdraw from the contest," Morgan cooed, bending close to the mare's ear. The animal eased its pace, either in answer to Morgan's command or, perhaps, so that Berengaria, like Morgan, could fully admire the sight of Ethan and the Andalusian as they flew across the green turf, conquering the long, slow rise to the trees as if it were flat ground.

Alejandro's long white mane could have been an angel's wing as it floated behind him, and the stallion's tail rode high, like a flag in a stiff breeze, as Ethan, now with both hands on the reins, bent low over Alejandro's neck, man and horse moving as one.

"Beautiful," Morgan breathed quietly as Berengaria slowed to a trot, her withers quivering from her earlier exertion. They reached the trees as Ethan was walking Alejandro in circles, cooling him before dismounting, coming to help Morgan to dismount.

She kept her hands on his shoulders, her breathing still a little rapid from her own exertion, and from excitement. "You have to let me ride him, Ethan. It would be like riding the wind."

"I would have said no, but now I've seen you ride, really ride. Although I don't know how Alejandro will take to a sidesaddle."

Morgan slipped her palms down Ethan's sleeves, then took one of his hands in hers. "Who said I want to ride him sidesaddle?"

Ethan raised one eyebrow as he looked down at her. "You ride astride at this Becket Hall of yours?"

Morgan's expression closed for a moment. "I do what I wish at Becket Hall, as everyone there well knows," she said, then quickly smiled. "Now, do show me these magnificent trees. Few trees grow nearly so high on the marsh before the wind knocks them sideways."

"In a moment," Ethan said, kissing her hand before tending to the horses. Alejandro wouldn't wander, but he tied him as well, far enough from Berenga
r
ia that the stallion wouldn't have it too easy if he decided to become amorous.

Taking Morgan's hand, Ethan led the way into the shadowed darkness beneath the ancient oaks, across deep black earth made so by decades of decaying leaves. They'd gone no more than twenty yards before they were effectively camouflaged from any prying eyes.

"Now, what's wrong? And this time, imp, the truth, please?" Ethan asked her, stopping in a small clearing where some dappled sunlight actually made it all the way to the ground.

"Nothing's wrong," Morgan said, knowing the time had come for truth. "I
enjoy
being treated like some sort of parcel, to be dispatched here, and then there, all at the convenience of men."

Ethan closed his eyes for a moment, shook his head slightly as he silently cursed Chance Becket. "Excuse me?"

"Don't pretend not to understand, Ethan," Morgan said, lightly tapping her short riding crop against her leg as she began to pace. "I read the letter."

Ethan spread his arms now, and nodded, wondering how long he could continue to play the innocent. "Of course. You read the letter. Thank you so much for clearing that up, imp. What in
blazes
are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how Chance is sending me home. That's what I'm talking about. I'm
talking
about how you are to accompany me, to ask for my hand
,
but that Papa isn't to think anything of that, because you are anything but a
serious
man. I'm
talking
about how Chance has told my fathe
r
—
a
nd thus my entire famil
y
—
t
hat I am suffering from a temporary infatuation with the earl, and Chance sincerely believes that spending uninterrupted time in the company of the ramshackle man will certainly cure one or both of us of that infatuation, so Papa should not worry, and then, next year, we'll try sending Morgan off to London for the Season experiment again, when she's older, more
stable. That's
what I'm
talking about!"

"Jesus," Ethan muttered, pushing a hand through his hair, longing to push his fist through Chance Becket's face. It was even worse than he'd thought.

"Oh, don't apply to Him, Ethan. Worry about me.
Explain
to me. Are you really taking me to Becket Hall so that you can apply to my father for my hand? And don't you think you should apply to
me
first? I might not want to go. I might want to stay here."

Ethan raised his index finger, opened his mouth to speak..
.
then shut it. Thought for a
few moments before speaking again.

"
Let me see if I have the straight of this, all right?" he asked her as she glared at him, possibly with wisps of smoke coming from her nostrils, as if she might charge him at any moment. "You're angry because I might want to marry you?"

"No! I'm
angry
because you think I want to marry you. Have we spoken of marriage, my lord? I don't recall the conversation. My God, we've only know each other a few days. Why would I marry you?"

Reminding this maddening woman that he
had compromised her at least six ways from Sunday (since Sunday...), and had high hopes of doing so again (with her as his willing partner), Ethan thought, probably wouldn't be the thing to say at this moment.

"Because we've fallen in love with each other?" he suggested hopefully, finding himself suddenly very much in sympathy with the lovelorn Jacob, if this was how Morgan responded to any thoughts of affection.

Morgan laughed, and it wasn't a pretty sound, even to her own ears. "Oh, we've fallen in
something,
Ethan, but I'm not convinced it's love."

"You're not?" he said, recovering his composure, which he was quite unaccustomed to misplacing.

"No, Ethan, I'm
not. And neither areyou. I seriously doubt either one of us even knows what love is, frankly. Odette would tell me that you're a healthy young animal and I'm a healthy young animal, and it is only natural that we..." She felt her first flutterings of embarrassment after so many hours of simmering anger. "..
.
that we feel a desire to mate."

Ethan's smile was slow and genuinely amused. "Mate, is it? Like the ram and the ewe, the stallion and the mare? How charming. And who in bloody blazes is Odette?"

"A very wise woman, apparently," Morgan said quietly. "Because you're not contradicting a thing I'm saying, are you?"

"Not a lot of it, no, I'm not," he told her honestly, because if there was ever a time for honesty, this had to be it. "You'd think a man of four and thirty would know the difference between love and desire, but I don't. I admit that. I only know, Morgan, that I've wanted you since I first saw you, and if that isn't love, it's damn well not indifference, either."

Morgan clasped her hands in front of her, to keep them
from trembling. "Yes, I know. So why this sudden rush to marriage? Why can't we simply explore whatever is between us?"

"
You're serious, aren't you?" Ethan asked, shaking his head. "Morgan, a gentleman does not compromise a young lady and
then walk away. A gentleman marries that young lady. And
,
having spoken at some length with
your extremely protective brother and listened carefully to what he said, a
man would like to
keep
his head attached to his shoulders, as that makes it much more convenient to wear his hat. Am I making myself clear here?"

"No one has to know," Morgan said, refusing to see his point.

Ethan laughed. "Not know? Morgan, for the
l
ove of God
,
all I do is look at you, and I might as well climb to the top of Saint Paul's and shout it to the rooftop
s
— I want this magnificent creature in my bed!"

Morgan turned her back to him. "You don't have to be quite so
detailed,
Ethan."

"Oh, I've only begun being detailed, imp. Because all you do is look at me, and the world knows you're more than ready to go to that bed. Your brother and his wife know it, and that's why you're being sent home, before we disgrace ourselves in public. My reputation doesn't matter, and is in tatters, anyway. But you, Morgan? You can still be salvaged. Send her home. Send
him along with her. Let them be alone, but not
too
alone, not alone enough to cause trouble. She'll be tired of him in a week, and we won't need to marry her off to Jacob or some other unfortunate dupe before she whelps. Look at me, Morgan. Do you understand now? Look at me."

Morgan turned her tear-
w
et face to him. "Is he right, Ethan? Is my brother right? Will this...
t
his...
w
hat we're feeling be over in a week?"

"I don't know, sweetings," Ethan told her, holding her gaze. "Is he? Your family knows you better than I do."

Morgan's head snapped back as if he'd slapped her. "Yes, they do, don't they," she said dully. "They know all about me. Maybe it's time you did, too."

Ethan took a folded handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at her tears. "You know, imp, I planned to bring you here this morning so that we could...
b
e together. And, yes, so that I could propose marriage between us, so I could ask you to come to Becket Hall with me while I apply to your father for your hand. But I think we needed to talk this way, even if Chance has already said what I needed to say."

He dabbed at her nose with the handkerchief. "Now you will miss all of that, and with me planning a lovely speech, delivered as I go down on one knee at your feet. That will teach you to read letters not addressed to you, won't it?"

Morgan pulled a face. "He had no right to write those things about me. About us."

"He loves you. He worries about you." Ethan nearly added that there was another reason for this entire scheme, but he had the good sense not t
o
further stir the muddy waters of Morgan's anger and confusion. Of his own confusion.

"I know he and Julia love me," Morgan said, beginning to fuss with Ethan's neck cloth. To keep her hands busy. To keep her eyes downcast. "But there's more. I think they're afraid."

"Of
me?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Of me. Of what... of what I might be."

Ethan didn't say anything else, for he could see that Morgan was struggling with some inner demon, and to interrupt her now might be to send that demon back into hiding.

"Ainsley Becket isn't my father," Morgan said, grasping at a place to start. "Not my
real
father, although I've never known any but him. Ainsley bought me, you see, when I was only a few hours old and my mother carried me into the street and stopped him, offered me up for a few shillings. After all, having a screaming infant in the same room might lose her a few customers. Who wants to tumble a whore with a baby at her breast?"

Ethan had
no words. He pulled Morgan close against his chest and simply held her, until she sighed deeply, then pushed herself away from him.

"
They never say it, Ethan, none of them, but I know what they think. Is she her mother's child?"

"You can't know that, Morgan," Ethan said quietly.

"Can't I? It's what / think. I flirt, I tease—
b
oth come to me as naturally as breathing. I know what I look like, Ethan. I know, and I
use
it. How do you think I got Jacob to let me open Chance's letter?"

"You—?"

Morgan's heart was pounding now as she pointed at him, even as she began backing away from
h
im. "Ha! You
thought
it, didn't you? Just for a moment, you
thought
it. My God, you though
t
—
w
hat did she do? I didn't
do
anything, Ethan, but be myself. And I'm not a nice person. Chance knows that. They all do. Oh, that's just Morgan, being Morgan. That's what they're saying now, Ethan. It's just Morgan being Morga
n
— she'll be just as interested in someone else next week. And what if they're right? You said it yoursel
f
—
y
ou don't know the difference between love and..
.
love and lust. So how can I?"

"Morgan..."

She held up her hands, warning him not to touch her. "No. We're not finished yet. I'm not finished yet. I want you, Ethan. I want you so badly my teeth ache, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. And, if you still want me, then I don't give a damn about what I might feel next week, what you may not feel next week."

She drew in her breath on a sob, lifted her chin. "But if you propose marriage to me just to ease your conscience, Ethan Tanner, I will walk away right now, and never look back."