Desperate and Daring 01 - Desperate and Daring (7 page)

Heather returned to her room on wobbly knees and collapsed on the bed. She almost slept through dinner, frightening her mother into a stern decree about returning to bed and receiving a tray lest she be falling ill. Mr. Calder had spoken to her about the rigorous interviewing he would be conducting over the next few days, and she insisted Heather take every moment of rest needed to present her best self. Heather smiled. “Yes, Mother.”

Rigorous interviewing indeed. She and Mr. Calder were given free rein to spend hours alone together, a positively scandalous notion, all in the name of procuring a duke. What was society coming to? Heather sighed blissfully as she sank deeper into the pillows. Violet was given the honor of taking her place at dinner, leaving Heather peace and quiet with her own thoughts. She was going to be wooed. Finally! What could be lovelier than that? Well, this afternoon had been more than lovely, an experience to alter her body for the rest of her life—metaphorically speaking. She was being awakened as a woman.

After going to bed early and rising with the sun, Heather was fresh and bright as she entered the breakfast parlor. She avoided looking for Fallon, her cheeks already feeling warmer at the thought of him. She was just finishing her cup of tea when he approached and advised her that she would need to change into her riding habit, if she had one, to assess her riding skills. Heather nodded and hid a smile behind another pretend sip of tea. “Yes, Mr. Calder.”

“Good. I shall meet you in the foyer in a quarter hour.”

Lady Everly beamed as Mr. Calder took his leave.

“Riding must be an important skill to the duke. Perhaps he is in exceptional health despite his advanced age.”

“Except for his ankle,” Violet added.

Lady Everly frowned at Violet. “Be that as it may, I now regret not having you ride as much as your father wished it. You must have a gentle mount to display your best capabilities. I shall ask Lady Endervale which horse she would suggest.

“Yes, Mother,” Heather said dutifully. She doubted the duke really cared about her riding abilities, but a ride with Fallon meant getting away from the house with only just the two of them. She couldn’t wait!

Fallon requested a horse of gentle temperament for Heather and instructed his own horse be saddled. He was in the drive inspecting Heather’s horse when Lord Rigsby and Lord Draven galloped up the drive, slowing as they came to the portico.

“Morning, Calder. Going for a ride as well?” Lord Rigsby said jovially.

“Yes, my lord. I am escorting Miss Everly on a ride to evaluate her capabilities. The duke is a horse enthusiast.

Draven snorted. “Putting her through her paces, so to speak?”

Fallon cut him a glance before returning his attention to his horse. “So to speak,” he said gruffly.

“That is a fine specimen you’ve got there,” Rigsby went on. “Is it yours?”

“It’s one of the many fine specimens the duke keeps in his stables.”

“Really?” Draven said with interest. “And he lets his steward ride them?”

“Maxim needs to be ridden daily. I am one of the few the duke trusts to see to his care. The duke always travels with him.”

“Very interesting…” Draven dismounted and handed his reins off to a groom. He approached Maxim and ran his hand down his neck. “Stunning,” he said with admiration. “The spawn of Sir Ewan and Anastasia. A Clydesdale and a Tersk. I’ve read about him.”

Fallon hid his surprise. “That’s correct, my lord.”

“An exceptional animal, and extremely rare. How did the duke come by him?”

This Fallon could answer easily. “The duke owns a castle in the highlands that borders the farm where Maxim was sired. He is indeed one of a kind, but the duke is acquainted with the breeder.”

“Wallace, yes. I’ve had the privilege of meeting him myself. Can’t understand a word he says, but he has a gift with horses.”

“Ah, the Scottish brogue is music to my ears, but comparable to screaming cats to others,” Fallon said in a deep Scottish burr.

Rigsby and Draven both looked at him in surprise.

“Are you a Scotsman, Calder?” Rigsby laughed.

“Not by birth, but I spend quite a bit of my time managing that estate. It rubs off,” Fallon said in perfect English.

Draven remained silent.

Fallon ignored him. “If you will excuse me, my lords, Miss Everly will be here momentarily.

Rigsby and Draven moved on into the house. Fallon waited until they were beyond the foyer before entering as Heather was coming down the stairs. She wore a riding habit of deep grey, like the color of thunder clouds, and her hair was tamed into a knot below a jaunty hat. He felt his mouth go dry as she caught sight of him and smiled.

*

Rigsby and Draven were headed for their rooms when they spied two women in the gallery acting suspiciously.

“What’s this now?” Draven drawled and headed in their direction. The gentlemen shared a glance before coming up behind them stealthily.

Lucy spun around before her brother could pounce. “Really, Jonathan. When will you ever learn?”

“How’d you know it was me?” Jonathan whined.

“You reek of horses, both of you.”

Anabelle turned, her gaze flicking over Lord Draven’s impeccable attire, before politely—though without an ounce of warmth or welcome, nodding and turning back to the scene in the foyer.

“What is so enthralling?” Draven’s deep voice said beside her as he stepped up to the railing and looked down. His hand rested perilously close to hers. Anabelle scooted her own over just a tad.

Lucy answered first, saving Anabelle from having to respond.

“We’re watching Heather and Mr. Calder.”

“Heather?” Draven said with interest. “Hmm, I like it. She looks quite fetching in that habit to boot.”

“That is my riding habit,” Lucy said pointedly. “And unless you have serious intentions—which I doubt, you keep your slithery compliments to yourself.”

“I’m wounded, Lady Lucy,” Draven said with amusement.

“Hardly,” Anabelle said. Then she blushed. She could feel his attention suddenly shift to her.

“And what do you make of Mr. Calder’s special attention to Miss Everly?” He said it quietly as if they were conspiring together.

“He is ascertaining her suitability to be the Duchess of Ablehill.” They all looked at her now with skepticism. She didn’t care. She would not breathe a word against Heather.

“How naïve of you,” Draven murmured.

“I loath to agree with Lord Draven,” Lucy grumbled. “He looks at her oddly, not like a duty he must fulfill.”

“Perhaps a duty he wants to fill?”

“Enough, Draven,” Rigsby warned.

Draven was smiling salaciously. “My apologies if I offended any tender ears, but I concur with Lady Lucy. He is on the hunt.”

“For what exactly? Her only choice is marriage to the duke,” Anabelle spoke up again.

“Perhaps he wishes for a greater sin than marriage.”

“Marriage isn’t a sin, my lord—” Her words died as she turned to look at him. His eyes were glinting wickedly.

Lucy stepped beside Anabelle, like a mother bear defending her cub. “Good day, Lord Draven, Jonathan.” Lucy looped her elbow with Anabelle and dragged her away.

Anabelle fought the urge to look back. “You really have a way with the women, Draven. So which is it? Lady Anabelle or Miss Everly?” Jonathan asked in bemusement. “Both are dear friends of my sister, and she may darken your daylights.”

Draven chuckled. “Neither. I only like to see their colors fly. A blushing woman is a charming sight, is it not? It does not surprise me that your sister could resort to fisticuffs.”

“What would surprise you is her left hook.” Jonathan touched his jaw in memory. “I never have to worry about her. She is quite capable of managing any man who would take liberties. I feel sorry for her future husband.”

“And who taught her such violence?” Draven smiled.

“My father did.” Jonathan shook his head. The gentlemen looked down into the foyer. Mr. Calder was escorting the lovely Miss Everly outside.

“It is odd. She’s
point nonplus
with the duke and looks entirely at ease,” Jonathan remarked.

“There is more to this steward. I’m going to find out what it is,” Draven said with finality. They turned away from the railing and headed for the billiard room.

*

Fallon lifted Heather to her horse and mounted his. They rode out of the drive without speaking, the day bright, but the sky white with cloud cover. They rode east towards the rolling hills, passing pastures of sheep. The plant life was still dormant and brown, but it had its own beauty in the way the light reflected off the damp grass, and spider webs glistened with diamond droplets. The trees were still bare, branches reaching toward the sun like hands and arms of drowning sailors.

Fallon shook himself. Damn Draven and his motives. He didn’t know what they were, but he was sure he had them. He would have to watch him very carefully lest he try to steal Heather for himself.

Fallon rallied his good humor, slowing his horse so Heather could pass him and watching the way her hips rolled with the gait of the horse. She was an adequate rider, as most Englishwomen were, but she should have more confidence with the reins. They raced over the first hill and down again, where a small valley of grass and a stand of trees lived in secret. They raced past the trees, quail scattering in alarm, and Heather laughed.

The sound was music to his ears. Climbing another hill, they slowed at the top and looked out over the valley that housed the village and the main road back to London. They walked their horses down the hill where the grass was thicker and gave way to forest. Their horses left dark prints on the wet ground and the air was musty with the scent of disturbed earth.

“Look at that tree?” Fallon called out. Heather turned and looked to where he was pointing. It was a giant oak, its lower limbs as thick and wide as a horse. Fallon rode over to it and dismounted. Heather followed, and he lifted her down, throwing the reins of their horses over a bush.

“This is perfect for a fort,” he said eagerly.

Heather turned wide eyes to him. “A fort?”

He laughed. “Haven’t you ever been in a tree house?”

“No,” Heather returned. “You say that like its odd. I can assure you I’m not the only woman who hasn’t.”

“Perhaps young ladies do not have the desire to climb trees as boys do.”

“Far fewer bones are broken that way.”

He held out his hand. “I promise you won’t break anything.”

Heather looked around in astonishment. “We are not going to climb this tree.”

“We are.” He snatched her hand from her side.

“Fallon!” she squealed and swatted at him. “Mr. Calder!”

He bent and lifted her over his shoulder. This time Heather screamed.

“Put me down. You will drop me!”

Fallon chuckled. “Nonsense. Keep still.” He wrapped one arm around her thighs and used the other to grab a branch and stepped up. It was no great feat. The bottom of the huge limb was scarcely higher than his knee. She clung to his back, not an unpleasant sensation, and gasped as he stepped up onto the branch.

“I’m going to set you down now. It’s very wide and sturdy. Have no fear that you will fall, and if you do, only your vanity will be damaged.”

An irritated huff was her response.

He slowly bent forward and set her down, keeping one hand on a branch above, and one on her hip. She flung her arms out for balance and slowly straightened. Meeting his eyes, she smiled and he grinned at her.

“It’s a whole new world of possibilities, isn’t it?”

“The possibility of breaking my neck?” she teased.

He acknowledged that with a head nod, and then his smile changed. “The possibilities are endless.”

Heather felt the initial warm rush of excitement fill her, but then she fully registered what he had said. Endless possibilities. For her, there was no such thing. She reached up as he did and grabbed the branch for balance. His hand fell away from her hip reluctantly.

“That isn’t really true though, is it.” It was a statement, not a question.

His brow dipped in a frown. “What’s on your mind, Heather?”

She wanted to say the duke, but that felt like a betrayal. However, if she were being honest and told him all, he would reach for her again, and she couldn’t have that. Her heart couldn’t handle it. This day had started so dreamily and new, and yet, here she was, ruining it with rational thought. “I can’t help feeling as though I am doing something terribly wrong, Fallon. I feel guilty.”

“You could do nothing worthy of guilt.”

“I’ve kissed my future husband’s steward, twice now.”

“Three, actually, but I kissed you first.” He smiled.

“I can’t help the way I feel, not about you, and not about the duke.”

That silenced him. Heather looked away, searched for direction in the slanted weak light through the tree. She found none. He was silent, but she could feel his eyes on her.

“How do you feel about me, Heather?”

Her pulse skipped. How was she to answer that when she didn’t understand herself? “I don’t know. Yesterday you said you wanted to woo me, and that sounded like a splendid idea… at the time at least.”

“Yes, but why did you agree?”

She still couldn’t look at him. It was easier to answer him that way, without being drawn into his eyes, and inevitably, into his arms. “Because I’ve never been wooed.”

“You don’t have any feelings for me?”

Heather closed her eyes. This conversation was so dangerous to her. “I do.”

“Because I’m handsome and younger than your duke?” he said with strain.

Heather cringed. She felt like the worst sort of person. “No. It is because you are thoughtful and kind. Your smile warms up the room, and you carry yourself with such confidence and strength that all I want to do is take shelter against you. I am loosing myself to you, but I know nothing good can come of it, because, no matter what I feel, or what I want, there is only one choice, and it isn’t even a choice for me. I must marry the duke.”

“You honor me, Heather,” he said.

There was such a powerful emotion behind the way he said it that Heather was more afraid than ever to look at him.

“Don’t be honored. I am a fool—”

“Then we are both fools. Why not be foolish together?” Suddenly, he was beside her, one strong arm pulling her against him. Heather let him pull her close, resting her head against his chest.

“Just for today, Heather. Only this tree will bear witness to our foolishness.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow. Right now, this tree is our world, and we are the only two people in it. No one else exists here but us. I won’t be able to attend the ball tonight, so I have selfish reasons of my own for keeping you here.”

Heather looked up, her eyes wide as they met his. “The ball? I had completely forgotten.”

“I haven’t. I won’t be able to dance with you,” he said as he looked down into her eyes. He leaned closer.

Heather closed her eyes, knowing he was about to kiss her, and she didn’t have the ability to deny him. If this tree was their entire world, then there was no reason to. He kissed her softly and languidly.