Lord Melvedere's Ghost (5 page)

“
Get her!” Jonathan shouted, reloading his pistol and pointing
it in readiness at the hedgerow as he slowed to a steady
canter.

Jamie
needed no further encouragement. Nudging his horse faster, he drew
alongside Cecily’s horse and grabbed the dangling reins, murmuring
soothing noises to the huge, wild-eyed beast as he slowed them down
to a fast trot. Clearly the horse was lost in the grip of fear and
began prancing and objecting to the restriction on his speed and
movement. Sensing an ensuing fight, Jamie held tight, throwing one
arm around Cecily’s weight.

“
Get on the back,” Jamie snapped, hating the abject fear
written clearly on her face. Although he was relieved that she had
made it over the fence in one piece, the ordeal wasn’t over yet.
There was the chance that the horse would bolt again, and take
Cecily with it. She wasn’t experienced at all and would be unable
to handle the huge beast. Death would be the only route out. He had
managed to get this far with her; he was certainly not going to
bloody well lose her now.

Gritting
his teeth, he leaned over and grabbed her firmly around the waist,
ignoring her squeal as the horse, sensing the restriction on the
reins had vanished, lunged forward and began to charge across the
uneven field once more.

Behind
them another gunshot broke the afternoon air, but it was of little
consequence to Cecily at that moment. Hanging suspended in mid-air
for several of the longest moments of her life, she found herself
unceremoniously dumped on the saddle in front of Jamie in an
undignified heap. The hard bridge of the saddle bit into her
posterior, but there was little she wanted to do about it at that
moment. The reassuring comfort of Jamie’s arms wrapped tightly
around her, were a boon to her battered senses. For a few moments
there was little she could do except lie still and hope she wasn’t
sick all over him – them. She lay like a wet dish rag, limp and
quivering, waiting for the wild motion to stop.

“
Are you alright?” Jamie snapped, hating the paleness of her
cheeks. She was so pale he was certain she was going to expire on
the spot. “Cecily?” He prompted when she didn’t answer him. He
nudged his shoulder in an attempt to capture her attention. He
hated to rouse her. The feel of her against him was simply
wonderful, but he just had to make sure that she was alright and
hadn’t done any damage. He had been watching her and was fairly
certain that apart from a sore bottom in the morning and a fright,
she had suffered no lasting ill-effects from jumping over a huge
hedge while being shot at. For that he could only thank the good
Lord, but he desperately needed her to open her eyes and look at
him – just once; just to be certain.

“
Cecily,” he snapped, dropping his head until they were
practically nose to nose.

Cecily
opened her eyes, lost in a dream like state. The scent of him
lingered, despite the fact that they were in the middle of an open
field. How could that be? She should be able to smell nothing but
open air and grass, and she could, but it was tinged with the
decidedly masculine scent of soap and sandalwood; something that
was intrinsically him.

The
sight of his beautiful grey eyes shooting shards of ice at her was
as effective as a bucket of cold water. In an instant the soft fuzz
of contentment vanished and was replaced with awkwardness that made
her want to squirm in her seat. Only she was immediately acutely
aware of just how close they were – down there. She was practically
sitting on his lap. Colour flooded her cheeks, and she slowly eased
upright until her back was rigid. She wished she could put some
distance between their bodies but there was nothing she could do.
Gulping, she carefully averted her gaze from the sight of the
ground that was so very far below.

“
Everything all right?” Jonathan grinned as he drew alongside
them.

Jamie
rolled his eyes. He was certain that the sight of Cecily
high-tailing it over the hedge on an out-of-control horse would
remain with him for the rest of his days. He was sure he had
several more grey hairs than he had started out with that morning
and didn’t know whether to kiss her or lambast her for being so –
well, so female.

“
Fine, thank you,” Cecily replied primly, her back ram-rod
straight.

Jamie
felt slightly deflated that the perfect opportunity had been lost.
He wondered briefly if he should have given her what she had been
asking for; what they both desperately needed. Although she hadn’t
actually asked him to kiss her, he knew she wouldn’t have objected
if he had, but he didn’t want her to seek his affection purely
because she had been frightened and needed sanctuary. He wanted her
to want him for himself.

“
I’ll go and get your horse,” Jonathan murmured, nudging his
horse toward the far corner of the field where Cecily’s mount now
stood munching grass without a care in the world.

Despite
her bravado, Jamie could feel the fine tremors still coursing
through Cecily, and searched for some words of comfort. It behoved
him that he came up with naught. It wasn’t like him. Although he
was certainly no smooth talker, he could hold his own and as a
knowledgeable man of the world, usually had no hesitation in
entering into conversation with even the most introverted people.
For some reason though, this woman’s opinion of him really mattered
and he didn’t want to do anything; say anything that would cause
her to want to avoid him. After all, it would work out to his own
benefit if he was careful right now. They had enough problems on
their hands without him needing to persuade her to even give him
the time of day before he proposed to her.

CHAPTER THREE

She was
tired, dirty and convinced that her bottom was going to be bruised
forever. She was struggling to walk properly and struggled to
retain some of her dignity as she staggered through the door of the
small coaching inn later that evening. Trying not to fidget, she
stood just inside the door and waited patiently for Jamie to secure
their rooms. Her chin tilted defiantly and she blithely ignored the
blatant stares that assessed each of them from head to toe. It was
virtually impossible though, to ignore the expectant silence that
had settled over the occupants as they observed the new arrivals
suspiciously.

Although
she was glad to have finally gotten off that wretched horse, she
wished she was back on it now. It was certainly better being out
there than under the curious gazes of the assorted locals. The yard
had been empty of ostler or stable hands which, given the inn was
barely habitable was unsurprising. It was just what they needed for
tonight though and suited their purposes perfectly.

It
didn’t come as any surprise when, moments later, Cecily was shown
to a tiny room at the back of the inn by a surly maid who merely
slammed the door open, nodded at her with a fierce scowl and
snapped, “In there,” before stomping off with a huff.

Cecily
cautiously tiptoed into the cold and unlit room. It had about as
much appeal as a box in a hedge, but there was little she could do
about it. The bed was unmade but at least it had what looked like
clean sheets folded up on the bottom of it – waiting. She had no
aversion to making her own bed for the night, but was so tired, she
didn’t really care whether the bed was made or not. Quickly shaking
the sheets out, she didn’t bother to tuck them in, just threw them
across the bed before wearily slumping over them. She never
bothered with the jug and bowl on the wash stand, and was fast
asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Jamie
frowned at the door and knocked again. He hated to simply barge in:
his room was next door and he had been listening for her leaving
the room in search of food but hadn’t heard anything from her for
some time now. While he had been organising rooms for them all,
Jonathan had completed a search of the upper floor of the tavern
which, if he was honest, hadn’t taken long at all. There were only
five rooms, and their small party took three of them. With no other
guests, the inn keeper had been overjoyed when Jamie had purchased
all five rooms for the night. The extra money he had handed over
had assured their privacy and whatever refreshments they
needed.

Frowning
at the door, Jamie glanced up and down the corridor. He knew
Jonathan was on watch in the tavern’s main room. Had she left? Had
someone kidnapped her?

Growing
cold, he cursed fluidly and swung the door open. The sight of the
darkened interior made his blood run cold and he drew his gun.
Glancing quickly around the small square space, his eyes landed on
the clearly unconscious form of Cecily lying across the bed. She
wasn’t tucked between the sheets, merely flopped out across the
top, still fully dressed, still dirty and soiled from a days’
riding. Was she ill? Had she fainted?

It was
then that he had remembered she had hardly eaten all day. The
contents of her stomach had been lost in the carriage and, although
they had carried food in their saddlebags, there hadn’t been much
of it. Cecily had only nibbled on an apple while warily perched
preciously on the horse she now didn’t trust. Cursing himself for
being such a fool, Jamie strode across to the bed, his eyes running
over her supine form.

“
Cecily?”

He
quickly lit the candle stub that was sitting on the bedside table
before placing his hand upon her brow to check for fever. He was
the very last person likely to nurse-maid anyone, especially a
female and felt at a complete loss to know what to do with her.
With any of his colleagues he would have slapped them about a bit,
shook them roughly and swore at them. He couldn’t – wouldn’t do
that with Cecily. If she was merely sleeping she would probably
scream the entire place down, if not slap him back.

“
Cecily? Are you all right?”

Cecily
grumbled and pushed at the hand on her shoulder. She turned away
from the annoying noise and readily slipped back into the foggy
depths of sleep.

Jamie
watched her with a frown. She was out cold, and he wasn’t certain
if it was a good thing or not. He couldn’t leave her on her own in
case she was sick, but it wasn’t appropriate for him to remain in
the room with her all night, whether she needed protection or not.
He could hardly ask for the maid-come-wrestler-type woman who had
shown them up, to babysit her.

Cursing
fluidly, he puffed out his cheeks and considered his options.
Shaking his head, he covered her over with a rough blanket, and
quietly left the room, heading downstairs to relieve Jonathan from
his turn on watch. Once there, he quietly discussed Cecily’s state
with his colleague and they agreed to take turns keeping watch on
her as well. They came to the conclusion that she was just
exhausted, but at any sign of illness they were going to get her
out of there and ride with her all the way back to Melvedere Manor
rather than risk calling one of the local doctors. They couldn’t
allow the doctor confining her to her bed for a week while she
recovered from her ordeal.

Shaking
his head at the weakness of females, Jamie took a sip of the
surprisingly strong brew the inn keeper handed him, and ordered his
dinner.

Cecily
awoke with a frown. Her head was bounding and every inch of her
ached from head to foot. She was certain that someone had succeeded
in sawing her bottom half off over the night because she could feel
nothing from the waist down, except for her legs. Those hurt a lot.
Oh, and her feet; those ached fiercely, as though she had walked
throughout the last day rather than rode on a feral beast that was
as determined to do away with her as the spies were.

The last day
, she thought, wrinkling
her nose up in distaste. To begin with she had quite enjoyed riding
but now, she would be very glad if she never had to see another
horse again, let alone ride one.

She
slowly peeled her eyes open, and blinked rapidly against the
sunlight that bathed her in a golden glow of a new morning. She
hated sunlight. Why wasn’t it night still? Frowning darkly, she
began to take stock of her situation.

“
Morning.”

Cecily
squeaked, sat bolt upright and winced as her sore muscles
immediately protested. She turned toward the husky rumble and
stared in horror at Jamie, who sat nonchalantly in a chair beside
the window.

She knew
she must look a fright, and struggled hard to resist the urge to
straighten her hair and apologise for her appearance. She watched
him for a moment, and tried not to stare longingly at the toast he
was eating. The bread smelled heavenly, or was that the thick
butter that was slathered all over it?

“
Glad you could join us at last,” Jamie mumbled around the last
mouthful of toast. Brushing the remaining crumbs off his hands, he
nodded toward the breakfast tray sitting on the dresser on the far
wall.

“
I suggest you get as much of that as you can.” He had seen the
longing look she had given his toast and fought to hide a smile.
She was ravenous. He was struggling to contain his mirth as it was,
and knew she was trying hard not to fidget. He found the sight of
her wild hair, sticking out in fuzzy abandon as it framed her
grubby, dirt smeared face endearing rather than off-putting. Her
clothes had fared no better either. She was covered in dust from
head to foot and looked, as well as smelled, as though she had been
sleeping in the barn. Although he had carried a change of clothes
on his horse, and her dress, he knew she had nothing to change into
that was suitable for a day riding astride a horse. He, on the
other hand, had washed, changed his shirt, been well fed and felt
as fresh as a daisy.