Read Duke Herheart Final Online
Authors: Olivia Ritch
Duke Herheart Final (13 page)
“That is no color of tan I have ever seen. She’s out there without out a bonnet. She’ll freckle something awful.”
“She already has freckles. A lot of them.”
A look of horror bloomed on Agatha’s face. “But don’t worry, the maid covered them last night for dinner,” he said with a chuckle. Her expression relaxed into a pinched grin as she watched the two women continue their exchange.
“She’s rather expressive and her smile seems to be quite…”
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“What, Aunt? You have never minced words.”
“
Infectious
. There, are you happy?” She snorted but he knew she was giving her approval. It was high praise from Aggie.
“Did you expect horns, a snout, or fire-breathing maybe?” When she didn’t answer immediately… “You did. You expected her to be an uncouth freak or an antidote. Surely you know me better than that.”
“You married that horrible Catherine what’s-her-name.”
“That was a mistake.”
“Yes. You will get it right this time. I will help,” she said with relish.
With that it was settled. Kathryn Ragland was well and approved by one of the
ton’s
highest sticklers. Now all he had to do was convince Kathryn herself she was capable of running his households. He would also help her find her family, train her without her knowledge for introduction to the
ton
, convince her to accept a new wardrobe and then avoid his own temper that he knew would erupt as soon as she graced her first ballroom when his peers got one good look at her. It was enough to bring on a headache. She would be an original, intelligent, charming, sparkling, and refreshing; men would fall at her feet. Of that there was no doubt.
But she was his. Of that there was no question.
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Michael struggled to concentrate on the small mountain of paperwork on his desk. His steward, Smithers, had faithfully sorted the bills, invitations, letters, and complaints into four ordered stacks. And then he had prepared the dreaded “all others” stack. Michael hated that particular pile of paper with a vengeance because it always held something to take hours of his time. Today he didn’t have any to spare, he wanted to take Kathryn on a late afternoon ride just before tea.
He could still hear the low murmur of the voices of his two favorite ladies enjoying his gardens as he contemplated stealing one of them away. They giggled some but seemed to be trying genuinely to concentrate on roses; at least he thought so when he stole another glance.
Returning to the dreaded stack, he found the first letter to be bearing some well-anticipated good news from his man of business.
Just as he suspected, it contained a letter noting the purchase of a 2,000 pound note from one Lord Sebastian Drake, Baron of Worley, dated April 26, 1814 to one of London’s notorious gamesters. Matthew Drake’s brother had gambled heavily and run the estate into near destitution while the younger Drake was off making a name for himself in the cavalry and routing Napoleon Bonaparte from Belgium.
Indeed, because of his drunken, slovenly, wastrel brother, Matthew was now up the River Tick with nary a way to rescue his estate.
Knowing that the house had been stripped of all its valuables and that there was but one horse in the stable, Michael had been inquiring from those in business circles who knew as to the status of the estate and found it to be heavily leveraged. Indeed, if one person were to buy up the vowels and hold them, he would own the land. Michael intended to be that landowner, with the express purpose of helping Matthew come about and regain his family’s status.
Of course, he could not easily get away with buying all of Matthew’s spendthrift’s brother’s debt without someone alerting Matthew, so he enlisted Julian Thornton’s and Colin Hamilton’s help.
Among the three of them, they would purchase the debt so that no one other individual could own a large enough share to take away Worley from Matthew. He had estimated the debts to be about 50,000 pounds and he was prepared to invest 20,000 or more if needed and the other two would do the same.
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In exchange, because Matthew would surely figure out their charity, they would help him set up a stud. Matthew’s dream from the time they had all been in short coats had been to breed horses and he had the most beautiful land for it. Matthew had few tenants so there was no one to kick off of a farm in place of the track and truly, there was no one more enamored or more competent with horses than Matthew. Even Michael was itching to get his hands on some gorgeous horseflesh closer to home.
After he and the others received a few more notices like the one he got today, they would propose the idea of the stud partnership to Matthew.
Michael was prepared for him to rail at them, but he had an argument that not even the redoubtable hero of Waterloo could argue…they all wanted a stud and they were doing this to purchase the few acres of his farm that would allow it. He could run the stud or not and if he did, he could pay off the debt. Michael was convinced that Matthew would agree with them in the end. He loved Worley enough that his pride could be overcome.
The other stack that held the mildest interest to him was the pile of invitations from some of London’s most illustrious hostesses. One day soon, Michael would have to take Kathryn to town and let her make her bow but he also needed to provide for her protection. Unleashing the wolves on her now was unacceptable.
“You are a wonderful teacher Cassandra.” Kathryn’s voice drifted to him from the hallway and pulled him from his planning. He heard his sister laugh and slip off upstairs.
He joined her in the hall. “Kathryn, I was wondering if you would be interested in another riding lesson this afternoon,” Michael asked expectantly.
She turned her lovely flushed face to him, gave that heart-melting smile, and then winked at him. The bloody minx winked! “Actually Captain, I was wondering if I could go for a run. It’s been too many days for me and I need to pump my legs. Would you accompany me so I don’t get lost?”
“A run, Kathryn?”
“You know, speedier than a walk, done on two legs, by a human?”
He raised one eyebrow at her. “I know what running is but what do you mean by it?”
“I mean to put on some comfortable shoes and start running down the lane until we’ve gone a couple of miles then turn around. It’s very good for me. It’s how I stay in shape.”
Ahhh, there’s the explanation for the sleekly muscled thighs and
calves.
“While I understand your request, it is not done to go running 76
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around the countryside,” Michael stated flatly.
Kathryn was undeterred. “Is this not your land? Can we stay within your property? Certainly your staff would not question your judgment.”
“You are no doubt correct that they will not question me but that does not mean they will approve.”
“Please,” she asked simply.
As a soldier, Michael knew when he was beaten. “Certainly. Shall we meet back here in thirty minutes? I just have a few more things to wrap up.” In fact, he had dozens more items to wrap up. There were still the multiple well-organized piles that he had attacked at 4:00 a.m. before the household awoke, still sitting only partially attended. But getting the early start on business had left precious daylight hours for a much anticipated afternoon adventure with Kathryn. Michael had no idea what to expect from running with her but he very much wanted to be able to accept Kathryn’s challenge.
* * * *
Kathryn had borrowed a pair of ladies work shoes from Ellie that were just big enough that she could wear the socks Ellie had produced, with some searching, to protect her feet from rubbing. The two of them together had been quite ingenious she thought. It helped having the benefit of two hundred years of sports technology advancements to draw on, but what she wouldn’t give right now for her well-worn pair of running shoes and a tight fitting jogbra. “But Kathryn, this is to be running on the hard packed ground so I shall be well protected from offending stones or turning my ankle in rabbit holes.”
“Okay, I can’t argue with that but are your socks thick enough to protect your feet from blistering?”
“My stockings should suit admirably. As for my poor feet, I have spent the better part of the last five years traipsing all over the Continent.
I suspect my feet are far past the sensibilities for a short run.”
“So let’s walk outside and you can tell me which way we are going while we stretch a little.”
“I would like to see what type of stretching you have in mind.” He said it with an almost seductive purr in his voice.
“So, you’ll get a really good view of my
bottom
because stretching 77
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the legs involves lots of leaning over at the waist.”
“Then by all means, lead on!” She saw the wicked gleam and wondered if he realized he was flirting.
The day was warm but the sun was not high. It was perfect May weather this afternoon to work up a sweat. “Lean over at the waist and touch your toes. Count one Mississippi and two Mississippi to twenty,”
Kathryn ordered.
“What’s Mississippi?”
“A really fun word to count seconds with. We could say one Herefordshire, two Herefordshire if that would work better for you.
You’re not stretching,” she chided.
“I think I like your fun word better.” Michael was not bent as far as she.
“Now, lunge with the left and stay in the deep bend for the same count of twenty, then we’ll do the other leg.” Kathryn was struggling not to laugh at his attempts to stretch. Michael was a large man.
“I am enjoying this stretching. It gives a great full view of your rather perfectly shaped bottom as we indicated it might.”
“Thank you. I’ll take that compliment. I work hard to keep everything in shape and where it’s supposed to be.” Kathryn wondered when she had ever turned stretching into a sexual discussion.
“Kathryn I can assure you, everything of yours is exactly where it should be.”
“You sure are being playful. So much less stuffy that when I met you.”
“Stuffy? Why I am most offended.” They laughed together as he notched slightly lower.
The mock smile he gave her made him seem almost boyish and Kathryn was reminded that not only was he enjoying their time together, he was bucking convention for her and making this little scene for any and all of his staff to see. Surely no-ot,” she exaggerated.
He stopped being playful and looked at her directly before dropping his gaze. “I am a little ashamed to admit it but I have been able to think of almost nothing else since…well…since…demmit, oh sorry… you.
Just you. You turned my brain to mush and I have not yet recovered my senses.”
“So, maybe today, you can pay me back for that?”
He regarded her with what she thought was a gleam of respect for her forthrightness and definitely a flash of desire. A hot streak shot straight to the juncture of her thighs and she had no choice but to pull her knee up in an impromptu stretch. His eyes hadn’t left her and she 78
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realized he was sensing her physical reaction to his look. Another pain that definitely required more stretching.
“Can we go now,” she squeaked.
“By all means, we will start toward the stables and take the bridle path toward Worley’s land.” Michael had never jogged simply for the health and fresh air of it and he immediately felt himself relaxing into the pounding of their feet and the rhythm of their breathing. The vixen next to him kept her tiny legs well paced with his longer strides and he knew she was probably working half as hard again as he was to keep up with him. “Shall we set a slower pace?”
“Heck no, this is perfect for me. I can keep any pace we set. Since it’s been about five days since my last run, I’ve got tons of pent up energy.”
“May I ask you to save a little of that energy so I can repay that debt we spoke of just a while ago?”
“You know, if we were racing, I’d accuse you of cheating just for bringing it up. You saw what your challenge did to me. It shoots straight to…”
“Yes, it gave me infinite pleasure to cheat…in just that way. In fact…I am…thinking of pleasuring…”
“Michael! Stop it!” she squealed. “You are making me totally tight and it’s starting to hurt with each step.”
They were several hundred yards past the stables when he grabbed her arm, stopping her progress and spinning her into his heaving chest.
His lips slammed hard onto her mouth but her surrender was complete and absolute the moment he tasted her, the ragged breathing from their exertion sending him sinking wildly into her.
Kathryn Ragland was like no woman he had ever known. The sweet, sweaty taste of her lips and the soft skin just under her chin where he steadied her was intoxicating, better than his best brandy. Her perfect breasts were rising and falling in rhythm with his fast beating heart and they pebbled just from brushing against the linen of his shirt.
She wove one of her sinewy arms over his shoulder into his hair sending tiny sensations over his scalp, down his neck and spine. The other hand grabbed his shoulder and found purchase in his muscles, nails rasping his flesh. He pressed her hips to his erection that was throbbing in time with their hearts. He wanted her here and now.
“Kathryn…I need to touch you.”
“Yesss.”
Before the word was out of her mouth, his hand brushed the front of her breeches. He slipped the buttons with one hand and slid the tight 79
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