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Authors: The Untamed Heiress

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Nor had he chided her tonight for her overreaction, argued with her to return to the ball or mocked her cowardice. Instead, despite the disturbance he had to know it would cause with Miss Standish, he had insisted on seeing her safely home.

He truly was the nicest man she’d ever met—including Mr. Pendenning. But the kindly lawyer did not inspire in her the sort of feelings Adam Darnell had incited tonight.

As for the culmination of their interlude in the library tonight, Helena wasn’t sure what to think. Darnell had been about to kiss her, she was certain. And she had certainly
wanted
him to kiss her.

Just remembering the enchantment of his nearness, the warmth of his breath on her lips, revived those powerful sensations and sent them once again spiraling through her body. She shifted restlessly, the silk of her gown sliding over her skin and making it tingle.

How would it feel were Darnell’s fingers, rather than the silk, skimming over her body?

Her breathing shuddered and her nipples tightened, while warmth pooled between her thighs. So this must be desire, she thought. She wanted more, to experience rather than imagine his closeness.

But that couldn’t be—for either of them. He was pledged to Miss Standish and so would not allow himself the pleasure of kissing her—as wonderful as she suspected it would be. So strong was her response to him, she knew it was wiser that she not kiss him, either.

She’d observed enough of her mother’s horse-breeding operations to guess where desire between a man and a woman would lead. Though she’d vowed not to marry so she might never again be legally bound to another man’s rule, she’d forsworn wedlock at least as much from the conviction that she must never take a husband to her bed and bear a child.

A child who carried the tainted blood of a man who had abused and imprisoned his own daughter.

Still, she thought, the sweet sensations continuing to hum through her, she would like to
taste
desire, if only for a kiss. Did this odd, compelling excitement exist only between her and Darnell?

The fact that Darnell was about to wed and bed another lady argued that the feeling was not exclusive between one particular man and woman. Though she’d not felt as strong a pull to anyone else, perhaps she might feel attraction to another man. Perhaps she should invite a kiss that would give her a sample of passion.

Perhaps with Mr. Dixon? He was appealingly handsome, an interesting companion—and had pledged to satisfy her curiosity even on “forbidden” matters.

Helena had a strong suspicion the business of kissing fell into that category.

She would definitely pursue this with Mr. Dixon. Even though, she thought with a sigh as she picked up her book, she would much rather kiss Adam Darnell.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

N
OT WISHING TO HAVE
to explain herself that evening, Helena retired to her chamber before the Darnell party returned. But knowing her aunt would be concerned—and having had sufficient time to work out her explanation—she was ready when, just before noon the next day, Lady Darnell sent Nell to ask that she join her in the back parlor for nuncheon.

To Helena’s surprise, she discovered as she walked in that Adam Darnell was present, as well. Though he gave her only a polite nod, the glance that passed between them was nearly as potent as a touch.

Assuring them she was feeling quite recovered, Helena explained her abrupt departure from the ball, after which Lady Darnell asserted she was glad Adam had found Helena before she managed to go off alone in a hackney.

“And I can only hope Miss Standish accepted my apology for dragging him off so precipitously,” Helena replied.

A small frown briefly creased Darnell’s forehead before he said, “She understood your position per
fectly and will, I know, rejoice to know you are feeling well again.”

So she might not distract Darnell’s attention, Helena concluded. ’Twas well that lady had not witnessed what had nearly happened between them in the library. Helena felt her cheeks flush, remembering, and from the sudden spark in Darnell’s eyes before he turned away to busy himself with his coffee cup, she suspected he was recalling it, too.

“I’m so disappointed you felt compelled to leave the ball,” Lady Darnell said, pulling Helena’s attention back to the present. “Such a crowd of gentlemen! I lost count of how many begged for introductions and were quite dismayed that you left before they could secure one.”

Darnell frowned. “I expect ’twas exactly that crowd who brought on Miss Lambarth’s headache, Bellemere.”

“So you told me last night,” Lady Darnell said, looking back to Helena. “Though perhaps ’twas just the heat. The room was so stuffy, I felt a bit faint myself.”

“I’ve thought about it carefully and have concluded, as Darnell posited, that ’twas indeed the crush of people that disturbed me. I grew up in such…isolation, I suppose I cannot be easy with so large a group about.”

“But as you grow more used to Society, perhaps—”

“No, Aunt Lillian,” Helena interrupted. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I disliked the experience intensely and do not wish to repeat it. But you mustn’t feel you or Charis need avoid balls on my account. As I told Darnell, I shall be perfectly fine at home with my books.”

“But, my dear, how shall your suitors get to know
you—and you them, if you spend your evenings hidden away?”

Helena gave her a level glance. “Aunt Lillian, as I have already assured you, I have no desire to marry. ’Twould be both dishonest and unkind to any purported suitors for me to appear at functions which might lend credence to the notion that, despite my declaration to the contrary, secretly I wish to wed.”

“But, my dear!” Lady Darnell began, only to be silenced by a stern glance from Darnell. “Well, I do not mean to tease you about it. We just want you to be happy.”

“Bellemere agrees with me that you should attend solely those entertainments you find appealing,” Darnell interposed. “Is that not so, ma’am?”

“Yes, Adam,” she replied, not appearing too happy with the approval he’d obviously coerced. “But,” she said, brightening, “the Season is just begun. No doubt you shall find many other functions more to your taste.”

“I’m sure she shall,” Darnell said. “You enjoy music, do you not? Bellemere has invitations to several musicales, which are generally held in a drawing room and attended by no more than several dozen guests.”

“That sounds delightful,” Helena said, relieved to see her aunt’s face brighten. Grateful to Darnell for lending her the assistance he’d promised, she turned and mouthed a silent thank-you.

He smiled at her, which warmed his green eyes and set the hint of a dimple playing in his cheeks. Checking a strong desire to touch it, she tucked her hand in her gown.

Her aunt was extolling the talent of London’s singers when Harrison entered, announcing Mr. Dixon was below. Darnell excused himself, but Aunt Lillian pronounced herself ready to accompany Helena to the parlor.

Their guest bowed as they entered. After an exchange of greetings, Mr. Dixon said, “I am delighted to see you have recovered, Miss Lambarth! The ball was a tedious affair after you left.”

While Aunt Lillian smiled her approval of his fulsome compliment, Helena had to chuckle. “Now you are being ridiculous, Mr. Dixon. The rooms were packed to the chandeliers with guests, half of them quite lovely ladies.”

“But none with conversation—or questions—as interesting as yours,” he replied. “Should you like to look at some horses? The stock for Tattersall’s next auction is in the stables. We could inspect them today.”

“If Aunt Lillian permits, I should be delighted!”

“Of course, my dear,” Aunt Lillian replied.

After fixing a time to return for her, Mr. Dixon took his leave.

Excited at the thought of finally being able to drive and ride again, she changed her gown and was waiting impatiently when her escort returned. Within a few moments he’d helped her into his phaeton and they were off.

“You are fortunate to be seeking horses at this moment,” Mr. Dixon told her as he guided the carriage down the crowded street. “Several gentlemen whose enthusiasm for gaming outreaches their skill have
recently suffered reverses that require them to part with their cattle. Randall’s selling off some fine riding hacks, and Bridgeman has a beautiful pair of carriage grays.”

“I can view all the horses now?”

“Yes. Let me know the ones you prefer and I will bid for you since, as I believe I mentioned, ladies do not attend the auctions.” He looked over with a smile. “Ladies generally do not visit the stables, either. I was rather surprised Lady Darnell agreed to let you do it.”

“She knows how keenly I desire to purchase horses—and probably realizes that I would insist on choosing them myself. Thank you for braving censure by escorting me.”

“’Tis my pleasure. I admire your independence, and certainly wouldn’t wish someone else to choose
my
horses.”

In perfect charity with one another, they reached the auction company’s stables. Nostalgia mingled with the ache of grief to temper Helena’s enthusiasm as she walked with Mr. Dixon and Masters, Tattersall’s head groom, through the stable block. How many times as a child had she accompanied her mother as she instructed the stable boys or showed off her yearlings to prospective buyers?

Mulling over the relative merits of the saddle horses she’d seen, Helena had lagged behind the men when a tall black gelding in the next box stall caught her eye.

A broad chest, straight legs and well-muscled haunches suggested the strength and stamina she desired in a mount. Beyond that, however, something
about his stance and wary, almost feral eyes attracted her. As if reciprocating her interest, the horse paced the stall, then turned back to her and tossed his head.

Going to the stall door, she put out a hand, encouraging him to draw closer. Slowly the horse approached, nostrils extended as he scented the air. Murmuring to him, Helena remained perfectly still, letting the horse accept her presence. Finally he allowed her to stroke his velvet neck.

So absorbed was she in getting acquainted that when Dixon’s voice sounded from right behind her, she jumped, prompting her equine friend to jerk away, snorting.

“Come along, Miss Lambarth. Masters wishes to show us that pair of grays I mentioned for your carriage.”

“What is this horse’s name, Masters?” she asked.

“Pegasus, but it outta be Devil! He’s not a fit mount for a lady, miss.”

“Why not? Is he ill-tempered? Ill-paced?”

“His paces be smooth enough and he’s not mean-spirited, exactly. He’s just powerful strong with a mind of his own. The stable boys say he’d as soon run ’em into the side of the stall as walk through the door.”

Helena chuckled. “He won’t tolerate being ignored or underestimated. Spirit and stamina are essential in a mount—else, why ride? Mr. Dixon, I want this horse.”

The two men exchanged uneasy glances. “Miss Lambarth, he is splendid,” Mr. Dixon acknowledged, “but if Masters says the horse is…difficult, please respect his opinion.”

“Indeed, I do! But neither of you have seen me ride. Masters—” she turned to the groom “—as I’ve already told Mr. Dixon, my mother bred horses. I’ve been in the saddle since before I could walk, riding everything from a pony to a green horse under saddle for the first time. I beg that you will both respect my knowledge of what I can handle.”

“If you say, miss,” the groom replied. “I’ll just go on ahead and let you discuss it with the gentleman.”

“Coward,” Dixon muttered, watching the groom retreat. “Now, Miss Lambarth, pray be reasonable!” he said, turning back to Helena. “You’ve admitted you haven’t ridden in years. Wouldn’t it be wise to choose a more docile mount?”

“Undoubtedly,” Helena agreed. “But I want this one. In dealing with horses—and men—I trust my instincts, which have never yet failed me. Pegasus and I shall suit perfectly—and gallop like the wind, shall we not, my beauty?” she crooned to the horse.

After a sigh, Dixon shook his head. “I’m sorry to be disobliging, but I cannot in good conscience try to obtain this horse for you. Now, the bay mare or the gray—”

“Please, Mr. Dixon, you needn’t apologize! I shall simply bargain for him myself.”

Dixon’s momentary look of relief was succeeded by one of consternation. “But you cannot, Miss Lambarth! Have I not already explained—”

“You have, quite clearly,” Helena interrupted. “But based on my assessment of the horses available, I have chosen the one I believe will suit me best. Was it not to ascertain that very thing that you brought me here?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then you can hardly expect me to settle for another horse, simply because others like it better. That would be neither logical nor intelligent.”

“But…but Miss Lambarth,” Dixon continued, looking rather desperate. “Adam would have my head if I purchase so highly unsuitable a lady’s mount for you!”

“Since you have already said you have no intention of doing so, you may be easy,” Helena replied. “I shall purchase the horse myself, saving you Darnell’s wrath.”

“He’d likely demand pistols at dawn were I to allow you to risk soiling your reputation by taking part in the auction,” Dixon retorted.

“Then I fear I
have
imposed upon you most shamefully, for one way or another, I intend to have this horse. Perhaps you could tell Darnell I was so ungovernable you washed your hands of me? In any event, I must catch up with Masters and inquire how to go about bidding. If it is impossible for a female to enter the auction room, I must hire him to bargain for me.”

She turned to walk away. With a growl, Dixon caught her shoulder. “This is blackmail, Miss Lambarth!”

“Indeed, I do not mean it so,” she countered, suppressing a chuckle. He had done her a great favor and she ought not to be amused by his dilemma. “I’m sure Masters can find a hackney for me, if you wish to follow my advice and disavow all responsibility for the proceedings.”

“As if that would matter a farthing to Adam, after I
brought you here. He’d be more likely to shoot me where I stood for abandoning you.” Looking both aggrieved and chagrined, he swept his hand across his perspiring brow. “Very well, Miss Lambarth, if you must have this horse, I suppose I must buy him. But only if you promise you will not ride him without myself and your groom present.”

Helena decided to allow him that one concession. “If you feel it necessary, Mr. Dixon. But I do assure you, I can handle the horse.” She lost the battle to restrain her mirth and a chuckle emerged. “I expect you no longer admire this ‘free-thinking individual’ quite so much.”

He gave her a half-resentful, half-amused glance. “Since you have so neatly hoist me with my own petard, I can’t in fairness begrudge you the victory. In future, though, I will be on my guard!”

“I should like to continue our friendship, but I am what I am, so ’tis best that you are forewarned,” she replied. “But come, let us discuss something we can agree upon. If the grays are as admirable as you say, I shall bow to your advice and purchase them.”

Though Mr. Dixon was still somewhat disgruntled, it appeared he was too fair-minded to hold a grudge, for by the time she approved the grays, they stopped for ices at Gunters and arrived back at St. James Square, he had recovered his good humor.

“Behold me whole perhaps for the last time, Miss Lambarth,” he said as he escorted her up the steps. “I return to Tattersalls to complete your commission, and when Adam sees the riding hack I’ve purchased for you, it shall likely be grass for breakfast between us.”

“If he quarrels with anyone, it should be with me,” Helena replied, giving him her hand to kiss. “By now he should know I form my own decisions, even in the face of well-intentioned advice to the contrary.”

“Perhaps. But I intend to insure my will is in order, just in case!” With a bow, he left her at the door.

 

B
EING ENGAGED WITH HIS MAN
of business the afternoon of Helena’s excursion to Tattersalls and spending that evening escorting his fiancée to a ball, Adam didn’t learn of Helena’s purchases until he arrived at his stables the following morning. As he brought Adam’s horse, the head groom asked whether the master meant to join Miss Lambarth and Mr. Dixon in the park, where they were putting Miss Lambarth’s new mount through his paces.

BOOK: Julia Justiss
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