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Authors: S.G. Rogers

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BOOK: Larken
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Heat flooded her face and her eyes widened in panic. “You can’t have heard that from Myles! I’ve never said any such thing to him.”

“That’s true. You sing my praises from what I gather, and for that I’m grateful. No, I take your measure of me from your own lips.”

She stared straight ahead. “You’ve been wonderful to Myles and generous to me. I’m sure I don’t think ill of you at all.”

He laughed out loud. “Most assuredly not.”

They reached the lake, circled their horses around, and headed back toward the stables.

“How is your ride so far?” Brandon asked.

“I daresay I’ve rediscovered some long-forgotten muscles.”

A smile. “Riding is good exercise. Perhaps you’ll sleep all the better for it.”

“Perhaps.”

Sunlight streamed through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the trail. Nearby, a pair of fat, tawny squirrels chased each other around the trunk of an oak tree.

“I don’t want you to be unhappy, you know,” he said.

Larken knew for a fact he didn’t care about her one way or another. Nevertheless, he’d provided an opening for her request. “May I ask a favor?”

“Certainly.”

“I should like very much to improve myself. Do I have your permission to engage a dance tutor?”

“If you wish.”

“Thank you. I daresay the more activities I take on, the less opportunity I will have for dispiritedness.”

“A daily ride in the fresh air and sunshine will go far to elevate your mood.”

Her eyebrows rose. As far as she could tell, daily rides had done nothing to elevate Brandon’s mood. On the other hand, how dour would he be without them?

For her dance lesson, Larken had the piano wheeled from the drawing room into the ballroom. Lady Clarissa and her brother Lord Jensen Rowe arrived at Graceling Hall on a beautiful August afternoon. Clarissa was a pretty young woman with twinkling eyes and a ready smile, while her elder brother was full of mischief and wit. They put Larken at ease right away and she liked them both very much. Myles, who’d decided to watch the lesson, giggled at Rowe’s jokes.

After Rowe demonstrated the steps of the waltz, Clarissa took her place at the piano. Her long, slender fingers coaxed a beautiful melody from the ivory keys while Rowe and Larken practiced together.

“I can’t imagine dancing properly when the floor is filled with other couples,” she said. “How do you avoid bumping into one another?”

“The gentlemen endeavor to steer their partners clear of obstacles.”

“Sounds a little like a rider and his horse.”

“Nay.” A wink.

Myles fell over laughing at the homophone. Two hours flew by quickly, and Larken asked the siblings to stay for tea. They gathered in the drawing room as servants brought the refreshments.

“Will Mr. King be joining us?” Rowe asked.

Since their ride to the lake, Larken had caught no more than a glimpse of the man.

“I’m not entirely certain of his plans this afternoon,” she replied.

“I was pleased to hear Mr. King had finally married,” Lady Clarissa said. “Mrs. King, how did you meet your husband?”

“Er…mutual acquaintances brought us together,” Larken said. “It was a whirlwind courtship, as they say.”

“If I may be so bold, Mr. King is a lucky man,” Rowe said.

“Indeed he is, and he has a ward now, as well.” Lady Clarissa glanced at Myles. “Did I detect an American accent?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m from New York City.”

“Isn’t that lovely! What’s it like there?” Lady Clarissa asked.

“Mama used to take me to Central Park almost every day to see the sheep, but she died.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Lady Clarissa said. “How sad.”

“The loss of a parent is always a sad affair. How fortunate you are, however, to live with Mr. and Mrs. King,” Rowe said.

“Larken’s famous. She’s the Miracle Orphan from a horrible train wreck.”

Clarissa and Rowe stared at Larken, wide-eyed.

“I remember reading about that accident in the paper,” Clarissa said. “You poor thing! I often wondered how you’d got on.”

“You’ve quite the appearance of an angel, Mrs. King,” Rowe said. “Perhaps the good Lord spared your life for some lofty purpose…such as raising this young man?”

“If that’s the case, I’m the fortunate one. It’s Myles who is the angel.”

The boy giggled. He brightened even further when the tea arrived. For the next twenty minutes or so, he busied himself with scones and clotted cream while Larken, Rowe, and Lady Clarissa drank tea and chatted about inconsequential subjects.

“When may we meet next?” Larken asked finally. “I feel I’m at such a great disadvantage in not knowing how to dance.”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?” Rowe suggested. “The closer we are to the end of the year, the more our services will be required elsewhere. We might as well take advantage of the slack right now to bring you up to snuff.”

“Perfect.”

After another few minutes, the brother and sister took their leave.

“Please give our best regards to Mr. King,” Rowe said. “He’s been absent from society far too long.”

“Yes, he and his brother were always great favorites on the dance floor,” Clarissa said.

“I didn’t realize you were acquainted with the family,” Larken said. “When I see Brandon, I’ll let him know he’s been missed.”

Of course, she didn’t mention there was little chance she would see Brandon any time soon. Larken was looking forward to deepening her relationship with Lord Rowe and Lady Clarissa for several reasons. She enjoyed their company and valued their tutelage on the dance floor, most importantly, but once they’d established a rapport, she’d be able to elicit a little more information about her husband. The man was like a wet knot, impossible to unravel. If she teased at it long enough, however, she might just be able to loosen the threads.

When Larken rode Juniper next, she took the same trail as before. When she approached the lake, she was surprised to find Lightning and Boots grazing underneath a shady tree. Glancing around, she discovered Brandon and Myles on the dock. Her husband was in his shirtsleeves as he showed Myles how to skip pebbles on the surface of the water. A long, slow breath escaped her lips as she admired his well-muscled frame and broad shoulders. How strange she should find herself married to such a magnificent man and yet be unable to revel in it.

She watched for a little while, waving after Myles grabbed Brandon’s arm and pointed in her direction. Brandon motioned for her to join them, but she shook her head. With no mounting block or groom standing by, she was unsure if she could dismount the mare without falling on her face.

Evidently, Brandon wouldn’t take no for an answer, because he left Myles dockside and strode toward her.

“We’re about to take the rowboat onto the lake,” he said. “Come with us.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t get down.”

Brandon stretched his hands up. “Let me help.”

She unhooked her leg from the pommel and allowed him to lift her to the ground. When his hands lingered around her waist, their warmth sent tingles up and down her spine.

“You’re terribly strong,” she said.

“You’re awfully light.”

He released her, tied Juniper’s reins to the tree, and escorted her to the dock. Myles had already scrambled into the middle of the rowboat, and was smiling at her expectantly.

“We’re about to have an adventure,” he announced.

“What fun!” she said. “I haven’t been in a rowboat in ages.”

Brandon handed her into the boat and when she was seated in the prow, he untied the mooring rope. After he jumped in, he used one of the oars to push away from the dock.

“Can I help row?” Myles asked.

“We can have only one rower at a time in this boat, I’m afraid. But you can be my first mate.”

Once the oars were in the water, Brandon propelled the boat across the lake, seemingly without effort. Larken leaned over to trail her fingers along the glassy surface. To Myles’ amusement, a fish jumping out of the water nearby made her shriek. When the boat reached the center of the lake, Brandon drew the oars in and let the boat come to a rest.

She gave a contented sigh. “This is lovely.”

A second fish jumped from the water, and she blanched. Myles chortled with laughter. Brandon nudged the boy with his toe.

“Would you like to come fishing with me some time?”

Myles wrinkled his nose. “Only if you bait the hook.”

Brandon and Myles talked about fishing after that, almost like father and son. As she watched and listened, Larken was perplexed. If her husband was Myles’ sire, why didn’t he claim the boy? He seemed to care little for other people’s opinions, so societal disapproval couldn’t be the reason. The lad was certainly easy to love, and had won Larken’s heart already. She couldn’t help envying their rapport and unstudied manner with one another. How she longed to have a friend like Josie with whom she could be herself! No, if she were to be honest about it, she desired more than friendship. Would anything ever satisfy the sharp hunger inside? At some point, her yearning for love would fade to a dull acceptance, wouldn’t it? Having lived only nineteen years, she feared that day would be a long time in the future—unless she filled it with something else. What wouldn’t she give for a baby of her own!

Brandon glanced at her, and Larken realized she’d been caught staring. Embarrassed, she turned her head and watched the ripples on the water instead. Although she realized her husband’s emotions were cooler than the depths of the lake itself, she had to admit she found him dangerously attractive. She would have been far better off married to a kindly octogenarian than a man who made her heart beat faster just by meeting her gaze. Well if she felt compelled to stare, she might as well visit his portrait in the attic for all the good it would do her. At least she could pretend the oil painting returned her admiration.

“Have dinner tonight with me,” Brandon said.

“Me too?” Myles asked.

“Of course. We’ll see how your manners are coming along.”

So Brandon meant to judge for himself whether or not she was acting properly in her duties as nanny? On that score, at least, she had nothing to fear.

“We’d be delighted, wouldn’t we Myles?” she prompted.

“Yes, we’d be delighted,” he echoed. “Thank you.”

Brandon rowed back toward the dock, wondering what strange, masochistic impulse had made him ask Larken to dinner again. Almost as soon as he’d spoken, he wondered what he expected to gain. For good or for ill, she was already his wife, and since she thought him abhorrent on a number of levels, what was the point? Among other things, she’d probably concluded the boy was his illegitimate son. Certainly the assumption was a logical one, given the totality of circumstances. Although he didn’t owe Larken an explanation, he still felt compelled to offer one. He’d planned to disclose the truth before, on the night they’d quarreled. After Myles retired tonight, he’d lay out the details of the lad’s birth.

After Brandon secured the boat to the dock, Myles scrambled out immediately. Brandon followed suit and extended his hand to Larken. As she stepped onto the dock, he marveled at her delicate bone structure. She’d been no heavier than a feather when he lifted her down from her mare. The form-fitting riding habit revealed every curve of her body, and his hands had spanned her waist nicely. Her figure was not his business, of course, but he’d have to be a blind eunuch not to notice. Perhaps he should have been more specific as to looks in his advertisement, or left enough time to send the girl back if she proved to be too attractive. The last thing he’d wanted was a wife whose feminine beauty was a distraction. It was good Larken held him in such complete disdain, otherwise he might be tempted to see how she felt in his embrace.

BOOK: Larken
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