Julia London (61 page)

“We, ah, we seem to have a knack for it,” she said softly, entranced by his pale green eyes. “Would you like some?”

The green eyes landed on her again, lingering there. “Remarkable,” he murmured.

“Oh!” She blushed. “It’s not really so remarkable. We don’t grow much wheat anymore…” Unexpectedly, he lifted his hand to her temple, brushing a single curl from her face. The gentle touch of his fingertips sent a flame racing through her. “The, ah, the taxes, you know, are quite high,” she muttered inanely.

“I was referring to you. Truly remarkable,” he said quietly, then grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. Oh God, oh
God
, his lips were so
soft
! With a smile, he dropped her hand and stepped away, swinging up onto the back of his horse. “Good afternoon, Miss Hill.” He touched the brim of his hat in something of a salute, and sent Jupiter galloping back the way they had come.

Lauren stood rooted to her spot for a long moment, lightly touching her temple where his fingers had been. When he had at last disappeared from sight, she pivoted and flew to the manor house, bursting through the back door with an absurd giddiness. When Paul asked her what had come over her, she laughed and replied enigmatically, “Nothing that a little time alone did not cure.” With a beatific grin for her brother, she floated up the stairs to her own room.

   It was very odd, Alex thought, that he should be so absorbed in a young woman of such a different class. But he
had to admit that he was enchanted. Lauren Hill was as full of surprises as she was smiles. And she was beautiful. Bloody hell, she was
gorgeous.
Seeing her dressed in boys’ trousers had almost been his undoing. She was one feminine curve after another, with a full bosom, a slender waist, and gently rounded hips atop what he imagined were two very shapely legs. After their little ride on Jupiter’s back, the torturous feel of her body against his own had lingered for two days.

In Pemberheath yesterday, she had caught him off guard again. He had happened upon her at the dry goods store, dressed in a light blue wool gown, her mass of curls neatly coifed and hidden beneath a bonnet, arguing with the proprietor over the price for milled flour. An angel in blue, he thought, whose blue eyes danced excitedly when she paused in her very elegant dressing down of the proprietor to cheerfully thank him for the tallow he had sent to Rosewood.

It had just begun to snow when he escorted her outside, having sweetly and successfully demanded a fair price for the flour, confusing the poor shopkeeper with more than one obscure quotation befitting the situation. He would never forget her glee when she caught a fat flake on the tip of her tongue. She had laughingly remarked that he seemed to bring a change in weather whenever she saw him, but he thought it nothing compared to the storm brewing inside him.

Alex turned the curricle, a sled trailing behind, onto a road leading to Deadman’s Run. He had so dubbed the hill only yesterday, when this maggot of an idea had taken hold. Strangely enough, he had found himself rather frantically thinking of ways to see her again as she had tossed the bag of flour into the wagon and climbed up next to Rupert. He had impetuously blurted an invitation to sled. To
sled
? He had not sledded since he was a boy. And just where in the hell did one get a sled? Fortunately, he discovered that the blacksmith sold them—for a king’s ransom. Old sleds
apparently belonging to some ancient ancestor. He had worked until the early hours of the morning getting the thing in working order.

As the curricle and horse lumbered through the snow, he absently wondered why he did not tell her who he was. He had thought to, but it just seemed so inappropriate. And it hardly seemed to matter. He would be gone in a few days, likely would never see her again. And besides, there was something very peaceful about being a man without a title.

As promised, Miss Hill was at the top of the hill with the children, looking quite fetching in a red cloak and her chunky boots. The boys were a mass of fidgety arms and legs, absolutely beside themselves with anticipation. Lydia seemed a little preoccupied, and every time Alex turned around, she gaped at him as if he had three eyes. Little Sally, the darling with a mass of blond curls, still had the tears of disappointment on her chubby cheeks because, she tearfully informed him, Paul had not come.

“Good day, Mr. Christian,” Miss Hill greeted him cheerfully, a luscious smile on her lips. She turned that smile to the children. “Mr. Christian has claimed he possesses great skill when it comes to sledding. He practically demanded he be allowed to show you.”

He had said no such thing. His eyes narrowed playfully. “And Miss Hill insisted that she could outsled me, and demanded the opportunity to demonstrate.”

She shot him a devilish look. “Why, Mr. Christian, that sounded positively like a challenge.”

“Indeed it was, Miss Hill.” He glanced meaningfully to the top of the hill. “Well, Leonard, shall we show them how it is done?” Theodore and Horace instantly clamored around Leonard, instructing him. Leonard nodded to all their advice, assured them he knew what he was doing, and taking the sled from Alex, proceeded eagerly up the hill.

As Alex waited for Leonard to position the sled just so, he watched Miss Hill laughing with the orphans, his heart
filled with a peculiar admiration. Gathered around her skirts, their upturned faces filled with adoration, he knew how important it must be to receive the gift of her winsome smile. It never occurred to him to so much as look at a child on the rare occasions he was in their company. He would not be doing so now, except that was where he could find her. And oddly enough, these children delighted him. He swallowed past an uncharacteristic swell of emotion as Leonard dusted the snow from his mittens.

“I think I should ride in front,” he whispered loudly, “but I will help you steer. Miss Hill said you might be a bit rusty.” Alex arched a brow as Leonard eagerly clambered onto the front of the sled. He got on behind him, feeling very awkward with his long legs bent up as they were. “Miss Hill, if you would turn your attention to the slope,” he called. Smiling, she dropped to her knees in the snow, one arm around Sally.

“Don’t worry,” Leonard said solemnly. Grinning, Alex pushed off. The sled began to careen down the hill; he expertly guided it around a large protruding rock, through two trees that served as an obstacle course, and then onto the flats at the bottom of the hill, where they coasted to a stop. Laughing wildly, Leonard immediately leapt up and raced for the top of the hill.

Theodore and Horace went next, flying fearlessly to the bottom. Lydia was equally fearless, riding with Leonard, and even little Sally took a turn, crying the length of the run with Theodore. Satisfied the children would not kill themselves, Alex walked to where Miss Hill stood. “So,” he drawled, “have you determined it safe enough to have a go of it?”

“Lydia has convinced me it is quite breathtaking,” she said, smiling coyly. “But I confess, I rather think it is safer to go with Theodore than you, sir.”

Alex smiled mischievously and impulsively took her gloved hand in his. “If you are assured that I can at least
drive the thing, I should very much like to take you down, Miss Hill.”

“Would you call me Lauren?” Her question startled him; she asked it as if it were some tremendous personal favor.

“On one condition,” he muttered. “You go down that hill with me.”

She laughed charmingly. “I am quite prepared, sir. You will not find a braver woman in all of England.”

He believed that was true. With his arms and legs wrapped firmly around her, they sped to the bottom of the hill, Lauren laughing gaily, fearing nothing. In the flats, Alex pulled the sled to a stop and clambered to his feet. Exhilarated, he yanked her to hers. She found that amusing, and laughing with one another as if they were old friends, the two trudged to the top of the hill, turning the sled over to the children once again.

They stood to one side as the children took turns sledding, chatting about Rosewood. She explained the demise of the family home, and how she and the vicar had schooled the children. With a proud gleam in her eye, she spoke of her vision for Rosewood, where orphans could come and learn the skills they needed to be happy, contributing adults. In her vision, Rosewood was not the run-down, overused and overtaxed farm it was presently. It flourished with life. He could not help but think of the call for reforms by people just like the Hills, with the same hopes and dreams, who were desperately trying to survive. “Paul says we must have fair representation in Parliament to fix things,” she had said. Paul was right, and for the first time since assuming the title, Alex could see how very important that notion was.

Alex in turn told her about his quest for the buck, omitting the small detail that he had not looked for the ornery beast since the day he had found her fencing with Leonard.

And he asked her to call him Alex.

When a bank of gray clouds began to creep into the sunny day, Alex suggested to Lauren that it was time she
took the children home. Theodore protested, grabbing Lauren’s hand and imploring her to go with him for one last run. “Would you mind terribly much?” she asked Alex with a charming smile.

As if he could deny that smile a blasted thing. “I will wait with the children at the bottom of the hill,” he told her, and with a wink for Theodore, herded the gaggle to the bottom.

She and Theodore were having quite a discussion at the top of the hill. When Theodore climbed in front, Alex clenched his jaw. Lauren intended to steer. Theodore looked a little pale as the sled started down the hill, but Lauren was grinning as they picked up speed. Alex sucked in his breath as she shakily steered the sled toward the two trees. He took a step forward as the sled skimmed the edge of the rock and headed straight for one tree, his pulse pounding in his neck when he realized how quickly they were sledding. Alex heard a sharp intake of breath, and was not sure if it was he or Leonard who shouted to mind the tree.

She managed to veer around the tree at the last possible second, but the sled came perilously close to the trunk and spun out of control. Thick fingers of fear closed sharply around Alex’s heart as he helplessly watched the tumble of her red cloak fly across the snow. The shouts and screams of the children startled him from his shock; he and Leonard raced for the fallen riders.

She was lying face down, her cloak a stark, ruby red puddle in the snow. Alex scrambled up the hill, slipping and sliding in his haste to get to her. When he reached her, Theodore had come to his feet and stood above her, a look of sheer panic on his face. The lad nodded that he was unhurt to Leonard’s frantic question. Alex fell to his knees and placed his hands gingerly on her back. Thank God, at least she was breathing. She made a sound, and he quickly rolled her to her back.

Lauren flung her arms wide, her blue eyes sparkling vividly
as she burst into melodious laughter. Stunned, Alex sat back on his heels and stared at her. Her cheeks stained deep pink with the excitement, she
laughed.

“I think my cloak caught the rudder!” she happily attempted to explain, and struggled to sit up. His heart pounded mercilessly in his chest, and Alex sat heavily in the snow. Still laughing, Lauren struggled to her feet, smiling cheerfully at the two young boys. “I am sorry if I frightened you, but I am really quite all right.”

“Aye,” Leonard mumbled, obviously still frightened. Theodore could only gape at her.

Alex stumbled awkwardly to his feet. “You gave me quite a start, madam.”

Lauren chuckled and brushed the snow from her cloak before lifting her beaming face to his. “It is quite exhilarating, is it not?”

“Quite,” he said evenly, and glanced at the children. “She is fine,” he said gruffly, and with a firm grasp on her wrist, turned on his heel and marched down the hill, annoyed that his heart continued to slam against his ribs. As far as he was concerned, the little chit was banned from sledding for life. Lauren ran to keep up with him, and when they reached the children, she laughed at her exploit, until none of the faces around her showed any sign of fear.

It was not until Alex was at Dunwoody with a port under his belt that he could finally relax from the scare that fearless little chit had given him. It was not until he had three ports under his belt that he could stop analyzing why that was.

Lauren paused from her chore of mending a protective wire cage the cattle had destroyed around a sapling and examined her progress. She frowned; she simply had to stop daydreaming if she was
ever
going to complete this chore.

Honestly, she had not put in a full day’s work since Alex Christian had tried to help her over that fence. For two full weeks, she had thought of little else than the country gentleman who had appeared from nowhere to capture her imagination and her heart. He had so fully occupied her thoughts that she could hardly concentrate long enough to see a task through, and kept forgetting things that had to be done. Even now, on her knees amidst a tangle of wire, she was imagining an intimate, candle-lit supper with Alex. Dressed in formal black attire resembling what she had seen Magnus wear on occasion, he was gazing at her with eyes of warm green. And of course,
she
looked fabulous, wearing a magnificent gown of blue satin, trimmed in seed pearls that matched the wreath of pearls on her head. Naturally, he complimented her profusely.

With a laugh, she shook her head and wrapped the wire around a fat stick protruding from the ground. The intimate supper was just one of her many little dreams. There was the daydream in which he worked beside her in the fields, sweat glistening on his muscular forearms as he proclaimed her the wisest of all women for having established her trade. And the one in which he played with the children on a luscious green and impeccably trimmed front lawn. There was the daydream in which she rode behind him on Jupiter, her arms clasped tightly around his rock hard middle as they galloped across lush meadows.

She sat back on her heels and smiled up at the sky. And there was her favorite, the one in which he took her in his arms, his green eyes piercing through to her very soul, a seductive smile on his lips. The one in which his head descended, excruciatingly slow, his lips parting slightly—