The Random Gentleman (10 page)

“
Oh!
” Bright color rose in the girl’s cheeks.

“Do you know how enchantingly pretty you look when you blush?” Now the audacious creature was openly laughing at her.

“No—that is—no one has told me—“ began Belinda, even more adorably confused between pleasure and annoyance.

“The men of Sayre Village must be the greatest slow-tops in nature,” suggested the man in commiserating tones.

“But I have not—that is—” The girl realized the folly of continuing such a conversation and drew a deep, steadying breath.

“I have come to visit the gypsy encampment,” she said, primly.

“An excellent idea.” The man approved. “So educational! May I have the honor of escorting you? But first—” he pursed his lips disparagingly.

“What is wrong?” the girl queried.

“You have twigs in your hair, and your gown is sadly untidy,” the Duke informed her with a chuckle he could not suppress.

Belinda, shocked out of her bemused fascination by these rude comments, snapped, “And you, sir, have a damned dirty shirt!” in a tone which evoked for the Duke memories of dress parades and displeased senior officers. He took a closer look at the angry little figure before him, the tousled golden hair, the wide lovely brown eyes, the arrogant tilt of the chin. There had been the quick riposte to his Shakespearean gambit—surely a maid-servant wouldn’t have known . . . ? The small hands now clenched into fists were white and well cared for . . . . A staggering suspicion entered the Duke’s mind. In spite of the outgrown gray dress and the sturdy shoes, this vision of beauty was neither the hoyden nor the servant she appeared. Frantically he tried to recall what Freya had said about the Earl’s granddaughter. Blond, beautiful, with a startling openness of speech resulting from her grandfather’s upbringing.

“Belinda’s not mealymouthed,” Freya had informed him, chuckling. “Some of our high sticklers censure her but the young men adore it.”

At the time, the Duke had frowned fastidiously and added it to his list of grievances against the girl. But now—could this rather grubby-looking little beauty be the Honorable Belinda Sayre, granddaughter of an Earl, and the woman he was expected to marry?

“If not Titania, by what name may I address you, nymph?” he asked, the smile which had won favor with some of the best-guarded hearts in Europe on his lips.

“I am—uh—Prudence Oliphant,” replied the girl, presenting such a self-conscious mien that the Duke’s suspicions were in a fair way of being confirmed. “A distant connection of the Sayre family,” she added hastily.

The merest hint of a smile teased at the Duke’s lips as he considered the disheveled little figure confronting him. “The family is not in residence, I take it?” he queried mildly.

A wild-rose blush suffused the girl’s cheeks. “Oh!—You mean the—the informality of my costume?”

“That, too.” The big man spared her nothing. “Unless, of course, they use you as an—ah—unpaid drudge?” And you are forced to wear Miss Belinda Sayre’s outgrown clothing?”

“Miss Belinda would not be caught dead in a dress like this,” gritted Belinda.

“Ah! A haughty piece, is she?” commiserated the exasperating creature. “Niffy-naffy?”

“On the contrary,” snapped the girl, “she is all affability! A most obliging and amiable disposition!”

“Indeed?” commented the man, viewing this information with a maddeningly incredulous air.

“And what the devil business is it of yours what Miss Belinda is like?” the girl bristled.

“No wonder the family rusticates you at Sayre Court,” said the Duke and now his smile became a mocking grin. “The style of your address is hardly suited to an elegant London drawing room.”

Belinda’s hand flashed up to slap the mocking face above her. With a rapidity which shocked her, her wrist was caught and held in a crushing grip.

“Oh, no, little spitfire! You must learn to conduct yourself with more propriety! Shall I school you, I wonder?” and he looked down into her furious countenance with a kind of grim amusement.

Outraged, Belinda gasped. “What can a dirty gypsy tinker know of gentility?” She shrugged to free her wrist.

With embarrassing ease the man captured her other hand. “More than you are presently demonstrating, little termagant,” he answered quietly. “Yes, I think it might amuse me to see if I can make a lady out of such a harum-scarum little maiden as Miss Prudence Oliphant.”

Belinda glared up into the stern, handsome face. “I wish my—I wish there was a
man
here—!”

“There is,” her tormentor said softly. “Oh, believe me, there is!”

For the first time in her pampered life, Belinda had an odd feeling which seemed to be compounded in equal measure of terror and delight. Unable to sustain the man’s penetrating glance, she lowered her gaze to his broad chest and waited for his next move. After a moment he took both of her wrists in one large hand and with the other began to pluck the leaves and twigs from her hair.

Belinda found herself standing with unexpected docility under his ministrations. Even when he began to smooth and arrange her tumbled curls, she did not offer protest. The man, releasing her wrists to give himself two hands for his work, shot her the occasional wary glance, suspecting a trick. At length his heartwarming smile appeared.

“Much better!” he said gently.

“My appearance?” challenged the girl, glancing up at him swiftly.

“Your behavior,” he corrected her. “I am coming to believe that with some careful training you might learn to go on quite acceptably in society,” and he bent and placed his lips firmly upon her open mouth.

Belinda decided afterwards that it was shock which held her immobile beneath that attack, conveniently ignoring the fact that she had responded to the unexpected pressure by going up on tiptoe and leaning closer to the man’s broad chest. With lightning speed she was clasped strongly in two powerful arms and fitted against a hard body. In order to facilitate this maneuver—and since she had really no place else to put them—Belinda placed her arms around the firm column of the man’s neck and held on.

She had need to. The pressure of firm male lips against her own was creating some interesting new feelings inside her. One or two of the more dashing of the young officers who paid her court had attempted to steal a kiss under circumstances suitable for the performance of such tactics, but while Belinda, quite naturally curious, had permitted a chaste salute, she had held her defenses and remained in complete control of the exercise. This embrace was as different from those tentative maneuverings as brandy is from milk. Feeling a little dizzy, Belinda pulled back.

At once the grip on her loosened, and an unwelcome coolness struck that part of her chest which had been pressed to the man’s.

“I just wanted to catch my breath,” she found herself explaining, and moved back to him.

He threw his head up with an involuntary crow of laughter. “ ‘
Prudence’
? Little one, you must not give yourself away so clearly! You should be all offended consequence, no matter how much you enjoyed my behavior!”

Belinda frowned. “Why?”

The man regarded her with such amused delight that she caught her breath. He kissed her once again, a soft touch, a soft touch quite unlike his earlier demanding pressure, and then said quietly, “To protect yourself, of course.”

“You mean that men will regard me lightly if I make it too easy for them to kiss me?” she asked, belatedly recalling some of Lady Tulliver’s endless homilies.

The man met her eyes, all traces of amusement gone.

“I think that some day soon one man is going to value that eager response above all else in the world. It will be all the more precious to him if it is for him alone.”

Belinda pondered this dictum. “I believe you may be right,” she admitted finally. “For I know
I
should feel most annoyed to discover that—he was going around kissing dozens of other girls.”

The golden eyebrows cocked wryly. “Surely not dozens,” he objected. “Let us grant the fellow some discretion.”

“Why should he be permitted to make love to even one girl besides me, if I am not to love anyone but him? It is not at all fair play!” protested Belinda with some heat.

“Before he has met you,” offered the man more slowly, “perhaps he will not have realized what a—a delightful gift Fate has in store for him.”

“But after he has met me,” concluded Belinda happily, “of course he will never be tempted to kiss any other girl at all!”

“He would be a fool if he wished to,” agreed the man.

A very satisfactory response! Belinda beamed up at the strong, handsome, faintly smiling countenance. The Duke caught his breath at the sheer enticing loveliness of the girl’s face. “I think,” he said hastily, “we should go to the camp, for that is where you were headed when we met, was it not?” Then, observing the look of disappointment which crossed the lovely little face, he added. “For Miss Prudence Oliphant, being a poor relation, must be particularly careful she is not discovered alone in the woods with a—‘dirty gypsy tinker.’ ”

Belinda met his gaze with honesty. “I should not have said that to you. I was angry, but that is no excuse. I ask your forgiveness, sir.”

“Bravely spoken,” the man told her. “I accept your apology.” He offered his arm. “May I have the honor of escorting you, Miss Prudence?”

As she placed her fingers correctly on his forearm, Belinda wished that she could hear this man say her own name in that deep, caressing voice.

Chapter 11

The first gypsy they encountered as they entered the clearing was the girl Lara. She flashed a hostile glance toward the Duke, and then subjected Belinda to a contemptuous scrutiny. Before she could address them, however, the two Gorgios were surrounded by a ring of teasing young children and younger women, eager to welcome the pretty stranger. The Duke was surprised to notice that all the men save The Whip and Quebracho had disappeared, but concluded that the missing men were poaching or off collecting kegs of run brandy from wherever they were hidden. No doubt the residents of Sayre Court and the guests at The Climbing Man would soon be enjoying a very special tipple.

Dane introduced Belinda to the inquisitive group with a casual “This is Miss Prudence Oliphant.”

The Whip advanced, Quebracho smiling at his shoulder, toward the newcomers, but before Anton had a chance to speak. Lara said with an abrupt laugh, “
Elephant?
What kind of name is that?”

Belinda, who had been hoping that none of the older women would recognize her as the Earl’s granddaughter, drew herself up at this piece of gratuitous insolence. Quebracho offered a placating remark, his eyes on Belinda’s face, but Lara continued scornfully, “Is
this
your mort, Gorgio? Now I see why her father had to arrange a match for her!”

Oh, no
, groaned the Duke,
not that again!
Cursing himself for having used the truth as an excuse to get out of a tight place, he turned swiftly to his companion, noting her shocked surprise. Quickly he seized her hand in an ardent clasp.

“Although I had not had the pleasure of meeting her until today, I can only give thanks for my good fortune in being pledged to Miss Oliphant.” Bending his bright gold head, he raised the small hand to his lips. At the same time, he pressed the girl’s fingers in urgent warning.

Belinda, who had no notion why this attractive stranger should be telling such a monstrous whopper to his gypsy friends, was quick to realize that the encounter had developed a threatening aspect. The girl’s suspicious glance, the old man’s anxious friendliness, and the guarded look her companion was giving her suggested danger as much as the gypsy girl’s attack had done. She looked at the giant gypsy who was approaching them. Was it not—? Yes, it was the same big fellow who had been so obsequious at the wall. His flat black gaze now held a darkly menacing challenge to the man beside her.

Belinda was not the Earl’s granddaughter for nothing.

“My guardian wishes us to sign the marriage contracts today,” she supported the golden-haired man’s lie, “but I wanted to meet the friends with whom my promised husband had traveled into Devonshire.” She smiled enchantingly at the leader of gypsies. “I did not know, when I saw you all arrive in the village, that my intended was with you. I suppose he had come that way to get a glimpse of what the Fates had in store for him,” she grinned saucily at the Duke. “I suppose I must thank God fasting that he did not turn tail and flee when he saw me!”

The gypsies chuckled, relishing the joke. The suspicion began to fade from the giant’s face. Then Lara put in, waspishly, “But he didn’t know you were the elephant when he saw you perching on your wall, did he?”

Ignoring this completely, Belinda smiled around the watching circle of gypsies. “You must introduce me,
darling
.” The man did so, and Belinda said what was proper and gracious to each one, accepting their congratulations, and unconsciously enacting the role of great lady so well that Bracho was not the only one of the older gypsies who began to look at her consideringly. The Duke suppressed a grin. Finally Belinda turned to him.

“Now I think it is time we returned to—uh—to the house, do not you—
darling?
” and she pulled her fingers from the crushing grasp he had not relaxed.