Invitation to Scandal (8 page)

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Authors: Bronwen Evans

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Invitation to Scandal
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A chuckle escaped from his companion while Jamieson gave a discreet cough.
Rheda, thankful for what little darkness the moon provided, simply blushed, his insinuation not lost on her.
Lord Strathmore approached until he towered over her, menace oozing from every pore. Rheda thought the effect was somewhat spoiled because he looked thoroughly enticing with his white ruffled shirt accentuating the black of his jacket. “We shall have to discuss how you are going to repay me for Caesar’s services—Miss Kerrich—Miss Rheda Kerrich—Rhe.”
Chapter 7
 
R
heda closed her eyes, knowing in the marrow of her bones that Lord Strathmore was the sort of man who would not stop until he got what he wanted, and now he had leverage.
“Bloody hell,” she muttered. He’d not been fooled for a minute. She dropped her head in defeat. Not only had he found out who she was, he had caught her in the act, stealing from him, stealing his stallion’s seed.
“Yes, you can say that again, bloody hell. Although such language from the mouth of a lady.” Lord Strathmore turned and glared at Jamieson. His voice, sounding more dark and dangerous, said, “At least you were not stupid enough to try this on your own.”
“How on earth did you know what I was up to?”
“Your brother and Lord Hale.”
Her mouth gaped. She looked up at Lord Strathmore and then across to Jamieson. The ground seemed to pitch and roll as if she had drunk to much brandy. “My brother knows?”
“Not exactly. I guessed who you were and what you were up to from their comments this evening. It was not hard to put it all together.”
Her hands unclenched as she felt the ground revert to level, relief sweeping over her. Daniel must never know. He had threatened to sell her mares once before when she had been caught riding White Lily half undressed in the sea. The swim had not been Daniel’s concern; his concern was the fact she’d been indecent. Unclothed for all to see.
But she was swimming at their secret cove. The cove could not be reached except by the private path down through the cliffs. The path was well hidden on de Winter land, camouflaged as a steep cliff face; the beach below was impossible to see. It had always been her and Daniel’s private place.
She had swum there almost every day of her life, thousands of times. Only this time Daniel decided to join her, without telling her, and he’d brought a visitor. Luckily, it was only Lord Hale, and he seemed more amused than embarrassed by her nakedness. Lord Hale always indulged her “quaintness,” as he called it.
Daniel, on the other hand, had been livid. More than livid. She’d thought he was going to explode with rage. To this day he did not let her forget it.
If her brother got wind of what she had done tonight he might finally do as he’d threatened and sell her mares, even though the horses had been gifted to her. Daniel, being young and the baron, was trying to find his feet in his manhood. He was getting very tiresome of late, trying to take over from her and be head of the household. At the moment, he was beginning to think he controlled and owned everything on the estate, including her mares. Being a woman was so unfair.
Tonight’s escapade might just push Daniel past reason. His unconventional, willful sister had again drawn attention to herself and tarnished the de Winter name—that was how Daniel would see it anyway.
She glared up at the one man who had ruined everything. Why couldn’t he have stayed in the house with the other guests? How she hated his calm, smug face. What annoyed her even more was that his male beauty still made her blood gallop through her veins.
“What do you plan to do now?”
Wryly, his lordship answered, “I’ll think of something.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“I am well aware of that. If you had money you would have simply asked to buy Caesar’s services instead of stealing them.” He paused and gave her a sensual look that started a flicker of heat smoldering in the pit of her stomach. “As I recall, you had something infinitely more valuable to offer the last time you owed me payment for a service rendered.”
She gasped—their kiss. “How dare you!”
“I dare! How dare you, helping yourself to Caesar? He could have been hurt by your mares. Do you know what you would have owed me then? Being my mistress for a year would not even begin to cover the cost.”
Jamieson stepped forward. “Now see here. Lord or no lord, you will not speak to Miss Kerrich that way.”
Lord Strathmore ignored him. “What do you think your brother will say about all this?”
Her hands came to her hips. “I know what he would say to your suggested payment. It would be pistols at dawn.”
“Are you sure? If you were my sister, I could not wait to get you off my hands. Your brother should have seen you married off years ago. Why are you not at home with babes at breast? No takers for a hoyden like you?”
“For your information, you imbecile, I have had plenty of offers. I’m simply not stupid enough to let any man gain control over me.”
“You certainly need a firm hand.”
“No man I have met is worthy of such a role.”
“Wouldn’t a prudent marriage make tonight’s events redundant ?”
“Not necessarily. I don’t simply want wealth and security. I want it on my own terms. What if a husband objected to my breeding horses?”
“But that’s the point, you silly woman. You wouldn’t have to breed horses. Your husband could do it for you.”
She stamped her foot, sending her cap flying and her hair falling free. “But I want to do this myself.”
“Why, for heaven’s sake?” he demanded in shock, as though he had not said those very words countless of times himself.
She lifted her chin, starlight on her hair. “So I can be free.” She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “I own nothing but my two horses. The estate I have slaved for eight long years to save goes to Daniel, nothing comes to me. I am at the mercy of a good marriage or a charitable brother. Would you be prepared to let others decide your fate, or would you take responsibility for your own life? Live it the way you want to live it?”
He almost sneered. Did she not realize no one’s life was their own? It belonged to one’s family, and Society’s expectations. There was no such thing as freedom to do as you pleased.
“I don’t intend to answer to anyone but myself,” she declared as if the world would do as she said without extracting any penalties. “I don’t expect you to understand. This is my life and I shall live it how I please.”
“Your life,” he echoed, feeling a pang of jealousy at her words. She stood before him so composed, so in command of her life, even when she was in the wrong. She had a choice in her destiny, which was more than he could say for himself. Since his father’s death he’d controlled nothing. His path was chosen for him until he could find a way to atone for the past. A past he’d not created.
“Let me get this right,” he said, his voice hiding his bubbling anger. “You want to be free but you’d break the law to do so, risking the very freedom you fight so hard for? The logic is missing from your words.”
“I was not supposed to have been caught. Why couldn’t you be inside drinking and eating with the other guests?”
“What and have missed out on this debacle?” He sighed, exasperated.
Jamieson stepped in. “My lord, no harm has been done. Caesar looks a picture of health. Perhaps the baron will simply agree to pay you in installments for the use of your stallion.”
“Or he could agree to give me the foal once it’s born.” “No.” Rheda almost shrieked. “I would rather pay you.”
“But you said you had no money. Are you playing with me? Come Stephen. Let us get Caesar in the stables and speak with the baron.”
In a small voice she begged, “Please, do not tell Daniel.”
 
The big, six-foot-four, solid wall of muscle folded his arms across his chest, his fingers tapping on his forearm. “Give me one good reason why I should not go back to the house and demand payment from your brother.”
To add to her misery her eyes filled with tears. She did not want to cry in front of this man. In a strangled voice, she yelled, “My mares are mine, but he would sell them to pay you. I could not bear it if they were taken from me.”
Without her horses, the women and children of Deal would be doomed. Deep in her heart, she knew Meg was right. Dark Shadow couldn’t go on forever. She had to succeed with her horses. She couldn’t walk away from the people who needed her help. She’d given them hope. They relied on Dark Shadow for survival. Now she was honor bound to ensure the help did not end.
The night became deadly silent.
A man almost as handsome as Lord Strathmore appeared out of the shadows, giving her a friendly smile. “No one is going to take your horses away from you, Miss Kerrich. I am sure Lord Strathmore is honored to have loaned you Caesar for the night. Is that not right, Rufus?”
Lord Strathmore snarled. “Not bloody likely. Stephen, this is not your business. Stay out of it.”
Not one to miss an opportunity, she batted her eyelashes and pierced Lord Strathmore’s friend with what she hoped was a smoldering smile. “You are quite right, kind sir. No harm has been done. Caesar even enjoyed himself.”
The man Lord Strathmore referred to as Stephen took the hand she held out and pressed a kiss to her fingers.
“Since Lord Strathmore is too rude to offer an introduction, may I present myself? I am Stephen Milton, Marquis of Worthington, at your service, Miss Kerrich. Forgive Rufus’s bad mood. As a gentleman, I’m sure he’ll overlook this misunderstanding.”
She chanced a glance in his direction; his face was blank. A masculine Roman statue. The beauty not disturbed by any flicker of emotion. From his stoic continence, she had no idea how much trouble she was in.
“Stephen, let go of Miss Kerrich’s hand and take Caesar back to the stables. Ask Ted to feed and water him. My stallion shall stay in the stables from now on.” From his tone of voice, everyone present knew he would brook no argument. “You there, what is your name?”
Jamieson looked uneasily at her. She nodded her head. He removed his cap. “Jamieson, your lordship.”
Turning toward the mares, Lord Strathmore said, “Take the mares home. I need to discuss this situation with Miss Kerrich. I will escort her home later.”
Both she and Jamieson voiced their outrage instantly.
Rheda caught her breath. “I am not going anywhere alone with you.” And she turned to walk to her mares.
The nerve of the man. He was not her lord and master. She answered to no man except, on occasion, her brother. The occasions becoming too regular for her own peace of mind. But that was different. Daniel was her brother.
“Then I shall have Lord Worthington fetch your brother.”
His cold voice and impersonal tone halted her progress. His supreme arrogance vexed her.
She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to flow. They dried up as her anger grew. Rage welled up inside until her whole body trembled. He had her cornered. He knew she was at his mercy, and he would extract every ounce of payment.
She had let him know her one weakness—her horses.
Pivoting toward him she knew it would be useless to plead. The man was made of stone when it came to getting what he wanted. She knew why he wanted to talk with her alone. He did not want to seduce her, as Jamieson thought. He wanted information. Her moment of reckoning had arrived. He would use her love for the two mares against her and make her bend to his will.
Rheda’s insides turned to ice. Her fear was as real as the stars above. She quaked right down to the soles of her brother’s old boots. She did not fear being physically hurt; in fact that would be a blessing. Her fear went much deeper. She was going to have to choose—Dark Shadow or her dream of running her own horse stud. The villagers needed one or the other to survive.
Her fingers drummed on her thigh.
Or did she?
He was a rake. He loved women. Would her charms be enough to sidetrack the man? She knew he found her desirable. With heat flooding her veins, she remembered the feel of his erection against her body.
Rheda looked deep into Lord Strathmore’s dark eyes.
Let’s experiment.
Nervously, she ran her tongue over her lips and thrust her chest forward until her breasts parted her jacket, all the while watching his face. A smoldering response flared in his eyes. She couldn’t resist letting a wicked smile play across her mouth.
If she was very clever, if she played Lord Strathmore very carefully, she might be able to talk Rufus into helping with her horse stud without having to reveal Dark Shadow’s identity. After all, women were his weakness, and she intended to drive her own symbolic dagger directly to his groin.

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