The Hellion and The Heartbreaker (2 page)

“Humph,”
she snorted in disagreement.  She turned and searched the faces of her
three other brothers, seeking their support.  Their expressions turned
guarded, and they all seemed suddenly to be looking elsewhere, skyward, over
her shoulder, down at their shoes, none of them meeting her eyes.  She
glared at each of them in turn, and as the seconds ticked by the air grew
fraught with tension.  Finally she heaved a frustrated sigh and cast her
eyes to the ground.  Apparently she needed to change tactics.  Taking
a slow calming breath, she turned once again to Colin.  She looked up and
met his gaze, her lower lip quivering.

“No,
Scarlett.”

So much
for that idea,
she
thought, her temper quickly escalating.

Colin
visibly braced himself as Scarlett’s expression shifted once again into a
mutinous glower.

Despite
her youth, the fiery temperament of the McPhearson’s Irish ancestors ran strong
in her blood, and at present it was boiling.  She stood on the fence rail
nearly eye to eye with her brother, seconds seeming like minutes as they stared
each other down.  From the corner of her eye she noted Conner and the
twins shifting restlessly in the background.  She mentally weighed her
options.  Her brothers rarely denied her anything, but in this instance
Colin’s demeanor was surprisingly unyielding.  It was an unexpected
development, and for once she wasn’t quite sure how to proceed.  After a
moment, she looked away, turning her gaze back to the stallion.  He was so
beautiful.  She’d never wanted anything more, but Colin wasn’t going to
budge, she could tell.  Beyond frustrated she jumped to the ground,
turning on her heel without another word.  She stomped back toward the
house, kicking up little clouds of dust as she went, her arms swinging
furiously at her sides.  She wasn’t giving in, she just needed a plan.

In
silence, her four brothers watched her go.

Conner was
the first to speak.  Glancing toward the stallion, he started to voice
what they were all obviously thinking.
 
“Perhaps…”

“Don’t
even think about it,” Colin said, cutting him off.  “She’ll get over it.”

The
optimistic statement was met with three sets of raised eyebrows and three
rather dubious expressions.

Alec
Weston arrived at the McPhearson’s country estate the following day, though it was
nearly dark when his elegant traveling coach, emblazoned with the Worthe ducal
coat of arms, finally rolled to a stop at the crest of the long gravel
drive.   A buxom young blonde with an accommodating smile and an
eager-to-please disposition had delayed his departure from London, but the
pleasurable romp had been well worth the late start. 

Smiling at
the memory, he was in exceptionally good spirits as the door swung open and the
coach steps were lowered.  He nodded in greeting as two of the McPhearson’s
liveried footmen exited the large stone manor, hustling toward the vehicle as
he alighted, and then made his way to the front entrance.  He was a bit
stiff from the lengthy confinement and it felt good to stretch his
legs.   As he walked, his boot heels crunched softly against the
loose gravel, a welcome sound after the long journey.  Inhaling deeply, he
savored the scent of clean fresh country air as he leisurely ascended the wide
front steps.  When he reached the entry, the McPhearson’s butler was immediately
at his side to usher him in.

“Good
evening, Your Grace.  Welcome to Grey Oaks.”

“Thank
you,” he replied, crossing the threshold and stepping into the foyer.

“If you
would care to wait in the parlor,” the butler said, motioning to the large,
elegantly furnished room just off the foyer, “I will inform the earl of your
arrival.”

Alec
nodded his assent and walked unhurried into the room.  He’d been sitting
for the past several hours, so he ignored the richly upholstered duvet and
matching chairs and moved to stand before one of the tall, mullioned windows
overlooking the front lawn.  He watched dispassionately as one of the
footmen unloaded his bag, and then sent the vehicle in the direction of the
coach house.  His thoughts drifted for a moment and then turned to
Colin.  They had met years ago at boarding school, had eventually become
roommates, and then ultimately the best of friends.  They had been quite a
pair back then he recalled fondly, notorious for raising hell and causing
trouble at the prestigious school that housed and educated a large majority of
sons from the country’s most prominent and well-to-do families.

Unfortunately,
the tragic death of Colin’s parents had put a premature end to their youthful
hell raising.  Colin had left school early to act as guardian to his
younger siblings, and shortly thereafter had inherited the title Earl of
Kenston from his English grandfather.  Those obligations, combined with
the responsibility of caring for his four siblings, had permanently curtailed
their boyish antics, but they had remained close friends nonetheless.

Unlike
Colin, he had inherited his own title, the seventh Duke of Worthe, at a much
earlier age, having just turned thirteen when his own father died, seven years
earlier.  His mother, along with the trustees of his father’s estate had
overseen their family’s holdings while he had completed his schooling, keeping
the burden from his shoulders until recently.

Now, with
his education complete, it was he who controlled the vast Weston fortune. 
It was a huge undertaking, and gave him a much greater understanding and
tremendous appreciation for the profound obligation that had fallen on his
friend’s young shoulders.  It also kept him in the city far more then he
would have liked.  Thus, he had been delighted when he’d received word
from Colin that the McPhearson stables had acquired a new stallion, one that
Colin thought he might have an interest in.  He had jumped at the chance
to leave London for even a short time, and now, he intended to enjoy the brief
hiatus to its fullest.

“Alec, you
made it.”

He
immediately turned from the window, his expression slightly repentant as Colin
entered the room.  “I’m afraid I got a bit of a late start,” he said with
a roguish grin, moving forward to grasp Colin’s hand in friendly greeting.

Colin
cocked his left eyebrow knowingly.  “Blonde or brunette?”

“You know
me too well, Colin,” Alec said, smiling sardonically.

“Indeed I
do.”  Colin nodded in amused agreement.  “So, which was she?”

“Blonde, of course.”

“You always
did have a weakness for the blondes,” Colin replied with a lighthearted
chuckle.

“While you
my friend have always had a fondness for the dark-haired beauties.”

“Perhaps
that’s why we have always got on so well.  We’ve never vied for the
affections of the same women.”  Their good-natured banter was easy and
familiar.  “It’s good to see you, Alec.”

“It’s been
too long,” Alec replied with sincerity.

Colin
grinned, slapping Alec lightly on the back.  “Let’s go to my study. 
I’ve got a bottle of fine Irish whiskey that’s just waiting to be opened.”

“Lead the
way my friend.”

The next
morning, Scarlett was up at dawn.  She had stayed in her room throughout
the previous afternoon and night, eventually cajoling Tess into bringing her
supper upstairs when she had stubbornly refused to join her brothers for the
evening meal, frantically pondering how to convince them to let her keep the
magnificent stallion.  She hadn’t come up with much, and as a result her
usually sunny disposition had taken a turn for the worse.  Pulling on her
riding boots, she tiptoed from her room and scanned the hall.  Luckily it
was empty.  She wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone and hoped to exit the
house without encountering Tess or any of her brothers.

Silently
she made her way along the narrow hallway and down the front staircase.
 As she entered the empty foyer her thoughts turned to Colin’s friend, the
duke, and his upcoming arrival.  Blasted man would probably be arriving at
any minute to try to take her horse away she realized, grimacing at the
disconcerting notion.

Alec,
sitting in the breakfast room holding a steaming cup of coffee, shifted his
gaze toward the faint tapping sound of booted heels and caught a glimpse of a
young girl crossing the front foyer.  Noting the long red curls hanging
wildly down her back, he quickly surmised that she must be the one and only
Scarlett Angelica McPhearson, the sister Colin always spoke of with such great
affection.  His eyebrows rose at the sight of her masculine clothing.
 Hmm,
apparently young Scarlett wasn’t the conventional sort.
 She
failed to notice him as she passed by, and in the next instant she was out of
sight. 

A moment
later, he heard the distinct sound of the front door opening and closing. 
Where was she off to at such an early hour, he wondered?  Aside from the
kitchen staff, most of the servants weren’t even up and about yet.  Hell,
after a late night of drinking and card playing with Colin and his brothers, he
had barely managed to drag
himself
out of bed, for it was just past
sunrise.  If not for his eagerness to see the stallion he had been hearing
so much about, he would likely have been abed for several more hours.

Curious
about Scarlett and eager to see the stallion, he quickly finished his coffee,
rose from the table and left the breakfast room.  There was no need to
wait for Colin to awaken as he’d been to Grey Oaks once before, years ago, and
knew his way around well enough.  Like Scarlett had done, he let himself
out and then started toward the stables, enjoying the crisp morning air as he
walked along the narrow stone path that curved around the front lawn. 
Despite the short night, his mood felt as light as the breeze that gently
stirred the leaves in the towering oaks surrounding the estate.

Entering
the stable, Scarlett glanced about, warmly greeting the few grooms who were
already up and beginning their morning tasks.  She breathed in the
familiar, pungent smell of hay and horses as she moved through the stable, the
light brush of her footsteps on the hard straw-covered floor stirring up tiny
clouds of dust as she walked.  She didn’t see the stallion in any of the
stalls and stopped to ask one of the older grooms his whereabouts.

“Just put
‘im in the north paddock, miss,” he informed her with a smile, “lettin ‘im burn
off some o’ that energy o’ his.”

Once she
reached the paddock’s railing, Scarlett scampered up to stand on the second
rung from the top.  Bracing her hands on the roughly-honed wood of the top
rung, she was delighted to see the stallion galloping along the far side of the
enclosure.  She watched enchanted as he tossed his head proudly from side
to side while his flowing mane, shimmering in the early morning sun, streamed
in his wake.  He was splendid, an unrivaled beauty of absolute perfection.
 
The duke couldn’t possibly appreciate such a fine animal nearly as
much as she would.  Once again, the thought of him taking the stallion
away soured her mood.  Horse breeding had always been her father’s
passion, as it was now for her and her brothers, and she had long ago grown
accustomed to the animals coming and going from the estate.  But this was
different.  This horse was meant to be hers, and regardless of Colin’s
promise to his friend she was determined to keep him.

Walking up
to the fence a few feet from where Scarlett stood, Alec looked over the top
rail.  Colin hadn’t exaggerated; the stallion was indeed
magnificent.  He was more than pleased as he admired the animal’s
impressive height and clean lines, as well as his smooth, powerful stride.

Scarlett
turned her head at the man’s approach.  She didn’t recognize him, but that
was nothing new.  She was accustomed to seeing strangers on the estate,
especially around the horses.  The McPhearson stables were among the best
in the land and maintained a vast, though elite, clientele.  She noted the
admiration on his face as he watched the stallion.  He obviously knew
quality when he saw it.

“He’s not
for sale,” Scarlett said, causing the man to turn his head toward her.  He
was a nice enough looking chap she guessed, not too old, about the same age as
Colin by the look of him.  But that’s where the similarity ended. 
Although they were about the same height and build, their coloring could not
have been more different.  Unlike Colin’s thatch of thick red hair that
more often than naught refused to be tamed, this gentleman’s hair was a deep,
rich black, neatly cut and styled.  She was close enough to see his eyes,
and they were a vivid green, framed by long dark lashes.  At present, they
were regarding her with what appeared to be polite curiosity.

“No?”

“He’s
mine,” Scarlett told him, with casual assurance.

The simple
statement, spoken with such cavalier assertion caught Alec momentarily off
guard, but he recovered quickly.  “
Actually
,
I believe he’s mine,” he informed her, with a bemused smile.  In wonder,
he watched her eyes narrow, her expression turning cool and assessing.  He
had the odd sense that he was being sized up as her gaze swept slowly from his
booted feet to the top of his head.