The Reluctant Suitor (27 page)

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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Conversion is important., #convert, #Conversion

BOOK: The Reluctant Suitor
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“We had dinner with the Abernathys, Melora,” her younger sister announced flatly. “We came here straightaway after it was concluded, and if you’re wondering if I’ve been ravished, the answer is
no
, and will continue to be
no
as long as I have breath left in my body.”

Melora’s jaw plummeted forthwith at her sister’s announcement, and Colton coughed behind a hand as he made an earnest effort not to laugh at the petite woman’s gaping astonishment. It came to him in that moment that he had never in all his life met such a woman as Adriana Sutton. ‘Twould seem that he would have to be far more subtle about his intentions in the future if he meant to be intimate with the lady outside the boundaries of marriage.

Colton swept off his shako as the petite woman faced him. “Good evening, Melo—”

“Come inside, Melora,” Adriana interrupted tersely. Pausing at the door, she gave the man a frosty look.

“Lord Colton can’t stay. He’s returning home immediately.”

Thus dismissed, Colton had no choice but to acquiesce. “Alas, ‘tis true. I cannot stay.”

“Good night, my lord!” Adriana stated rather forcefully as Melora pattered after her. In the next instant, he had cause to flinch as the door slammed behind the two women.

As he neared the landau, he noticed the sheepish glance Bentley cast his way before the man quickly lent his attention to the four-in-hand. Even so, the elder’s eyes were inclined to wander surreptitiously over

his shoulder on a fairly frequent basis.

“Do you have something you wish to speak with me about, Bentley?” Colton asked, fixing a suspicious squint upon the driver.

“Well, ah . . . no, milord . . . I mean to say . . . Well, Liedy Adriana . . . ah . . . well, she does seem a mite independent . . . at times, that she does.”

“Yes, and what is that supposed to mean?”

Wary of offending the nobleman, the coachman shot another quick, nervous glance back at him. “I’ve seen her ladyship . . . ah . . . get miffed afore when a bloke tried gettin’ . . . too . . . ah . . . personal.”

“Familiar with the lady, you mean?” Colton prodded, peering up at the badly flustered man.

“Ah . . . well . . . ah . . . maybe so, milord.” Bentley cleared his throat with some difficulty, as if he had just gotten a huge frog lodged in it. “I overheard what the liedy said on ’er way ta the door, milord. She

. . . ah . . . said . . . ah . . . nearly the same thing the night she blackened the fella’s eye wit’ her purse.

She’s wont ta swing it ’bout wit’ a wee bit o’ force when she gets a mite riled, milord, an’ I can promise yu she knows how ta use it. Yur sister can affirm what I say. She were ’ere ta witness it. She an’ Mr.

Percy.”

Hefting his cane, Colton closely considered the handle in the moonlight. “And your suggestion would be

. . . ?”

Once again, the driver cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t think o’ suggestin’ anythin’ ta yu, milord.”

“Come now, Bentley, you were here before I left home. If you have a bit of wisdom to share in regards to the lady, you have my permission to voice it. Whether I take it or not remains to be seen.”

“In ‘at case, milord, I’ll be sharin’ what little I’d be knowin’. Mayhap ‘twould save yu from settin’ yurself at odds wit’ the lovely liedy. ‘Tis fairly easy for a man what’s been in the wars to lose sight o’ the difference betwixt the ones in the camps an’ those at home, but if’n yu were ta remember ‘at the Liedy Adriana is more’n a cut or two above ’em women who follow the soldiers, milord, then yu maybe wouldn’t be upsettin’ ’er so much.”

Colton mulled over the man’s advice for a long, thoughtful moment. Then he glanced back at the front portal through which the lady had stalked in a fair bit of a tizzy. Perhaps he
had
become too inured to women propositioning him and had lost sight of the fact that there were still some who preserved their purity for their husbands to savor. As much as he would’ve enjoyed making love to the lady, he had to admire her for her stance. At least, if he did marry her, he wouldn’t have to wonder who had enjoyed her before him.

With a sudden laugh, Colton tossed up his cane and caught the shaft in midair. Touching its handle to the brim of his shako, he saluted the man for his wisdom. “Thank you, Bentley. I shall do everything within my power to remember your prudent counsel. The lady is indeed just that, and ‘twould behoove me to tread lightly while I’m with her, or she’ll likely blacken my eye with her little purse.”

Bentley’s whole frame seemed to shake as he chortled in amusement. “Aye, milord, an’ the Liedy Adriana is just the one what’ll do it ta ya, too.”

C
olton nodded mutely as his tailor, George Gaines, asked him a question, but the small, wiry man could tell that his lordship was distracted by his own thoughts and not in a mood to discuss the details of frock

coats, waistcoats, and trousers. Though a number of hours had passed since they had departed the nobleman’s London residence, a fine Palladian mansion located near Hyde Park on Park Lane, the retired colonel had hardly muttered a word. For the most part, he had stared out the window at the changing countryside, deep in thought, his brows gathered in a frown, his lips compressed, the corners downturned. Only those lucid gray eyes had moved to take in the passing terrain as they traveled westward. Dusk would soon be approaching, and yet the younger man gave no indication that he even noticed the dwindling light.

Colton took note all right, but he was troubled by other matters. It hadn’t helped his surly mood one whit to realize that for the past several days, even while taking care of affairs dealing with his marquessate, he had been constantly inundated with thoughts of the brunette beauty he would soon be courting. As much as he had tried to banish her from his mind, he just hadn’t been able to, and it had been of no benefit to imagine he could find release with another woman. The very idea of that had set him awry with himself, and he hadn’t even wasted his time on what had promised to be a fruitless pursuit. The simple fact was that after viewing the unadorned perfection of the Lady Adriana, no other woman appealed to him.

Trying to placate himself with another would’ve been similar to trying to down a pauper’s meal when a rich feast had been laid out before him. In spite of his strenuous objections to his father’s proposals in the past, it was as if he were some untried youth again, following merrily along the path his sire had chosen for him years ago.

The narrow lane they were presently traversing serviced both the neighboring mansions of Wakefield and Randwulf. When the landau passed the thick stand of trees that buttressed the road and broke into the clearing that allowed a sweeping view of the area around Wakefield Manor, he lifted his gaze with a strangely persuasive hope that he might see Adriana. The gray-stoned many-gabled, steeply-pitched-roofed Tudor mansion sat upon the brow of a hill amid tall evergreens, the height of which almost rivaled the lofty chimneys that seemed to pierce the gathering clouds looming overhead. He had visited the warm, spacious, comfortable mansion many times in his youth, and he had every confidence that the family living there was just as gracious and hospitable as they had been years ago. A man could do no better than to make such people kin by marriage.

The slowing of the landau evoked Colton’s curiosity, and he peered out the windows in an effort to discover the reason for Bentley drawing rein upon the four-in-hand. That’s when he saw in the field on the far side of the conveyance the two mounted riders racing their horses toward a low stone wall. The lady, riding sidesaddle atop her mottled gray Andalusian stallion, was in the lead and apparently reveling in that fact. Glancing ahead, Colton saw the height of the barrier looming before the pair, and with a muttered curse that drew the tailor’s shocked attention, leaned forward in his seat for a better view. In something akin to paralyzed horror, he watched as the two neared the obstacle, but the closer they came, the more his eyes became riveted on the mottled stallion, which bore the elegantly garbed lady. As he held his breath, the steed soared upward, tucking his forelegs beneath him, and seemingly with buoyant ease, sailed over in a high, graceful arc that easily cleared the hurdle. Feeling an overwhelming relief, Colton hardly noticed the man’s shiny black steed gliding with equal grace over the same obstacle.

“Reckless wench!” Colton muttered in a sour temper. “Doesn’t she care a whit that she could get her fine neck broken one of these days with antics like that!”

By now, Mr. Gaines was eyeing him rather warily. “A friend of yours, my lord?”

“A neighbor with an uncommon passion for horses,” Colton muttered irascibly and, hefting his cane, rapped the elegantly curved handle against the roof of the carriage. As the landau began to slow, he faced his companion. “Your pardon, Mr. Gaines. I’ll be alighting here for a few moments, but I’ll have Bentley take you on to Randwulf Manor with your men.” Turning slightly, he cast a glance out the rear

window and found the tailor’s conveyance just leaving the wooded copse. “Harrison will see to your needs and will show you to an area of the manor where you and your assistants can work undisturbed for the next week.”

When the landau came to a halt, Colton made his descent and gave Bentley his instructions, concluding with the directive, “You may return here for me after you’ve helped Mr. Gaines and his assistants with their baggage.”

Colton made no attempt to understand the sudden surge of irritation that swept through him as he watched the mounted equestrians approaching along the road at a walk, no doubt to cool their steeds.

Smiling cheerily as the conveyance passed, Adriana waved a gloved hand at Bentley, as did the handsome gentleman who reined his sleek black steed beside the gray stallion.

This was no Roger Elston, Colton determined, wondering at the nettling sense of displeasure he was presently feeling. The man sat a horse as if he had been born to it, and from his white-toothed grin, which seemed to stretch well across his handsomely bronzed face, one could believe the gentleman was enjoying himself immensely. And why not, Colton mentally derided. Even if the two were now in front of the lady’s family estate, the man had her all to himself.

Colton faced Adriana and the man at her side as they approached him. “Good evening,” he bade, tipping his hat to the lady. She was looking very elegant indeed in black riding attire with a white silk jabot at her throat and a black silk hat perched jauntily upon her dark head. Solitary pearls adorned the lobes of her dainty ears beneath light curling strands that had no doubt escaped during one of her airborne flights.

Colton just couldn’t imagine their recent hurdle had been the only one the pair had taken in their ride about the countryside. “I thought I’d stop and see your stallion for myself since everyone in my family has been lauding his praises.” His eyes flicked over the steed as Adriana stroked the finely arched neck, and he had to agree. Ulysses was an uncommonly fine animal. “He really
is
a beauty.”

Adriana fought a battle with herself as she strove to forget the colonel’s bold solicitation of her favors not too many nights ago. Had he told her outright that he wanted no part of the contract their parents had signed, she wouldn’t have been any less offended. Since he only wanted her on
his
terms, the fact that he desired her had done little to assuage her annoyance.

Smiling stiltedly, Adriana swept a gloved hand about to indicate her tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed, handsome companion, introducing him as he swung down from his steed. “This is my good friend, Riordan Kendrick, the Marquess of Harcourt. Riordan, may I introduce you to Colton Wyndham, the Marquess of Randwulf.”

“I’ve been hoping to have this pleasure for some time now,” the man avouched as he approached Colton with a smile and a hand outstretched in greeting. “What soldier hasn’t heard of your bravery under fire?

May I welcome you home from Waterloo, my lord, and all the other places you’ve traversed during your illustrious career.”

The nettling irritation that had vexed Colton so quickly at first sight of the man rapidly dissipated as they shook hands. “Thank you, Lord Harcourt, and may I return the salute. I’ve heard many tales of your bravery on the fields of battle.”

Riordan chortled and held up a hand in protest. “I’m afraid you’ve put me to shame in that area, so, please, say no more, my lord.”

Each man, upon realizing that Adriana had lifted her knee from around the leg support of her saddle, stepped forward in his eagerness to be the one to help her down. Much to Colton’s chagrin, he was quickly outdone by Harcourt’s swift agility, and why not, Colton thought rather gloomily, the man wasn’t

hindered in the least by past wounds.

The way the nobleman looked at the lady when he set her to her feet was enough to tweak the ire of the observer who, until this moment, had considered himself undecided in his intentions toward the beauty. It was only because the man was unscathed from the wars, Colton mused, mentally offering the excuse as he tried to explain away the annoyance he found himself presently battling; it certainly wasn’t jealousy. It couldn’t be! Never in his life could he remember being envious of another!

That was before he had come home and found himself committed to a contract he had had no part in making, a voice seemed to whisper inside his head. That was before he had discovered that a lady could thwart his sleep. That was before he had realized just how much a man, who was every bit an equal of his, and who, upon the demise of his father, would have an even loftier title, yearned to have her for himself. That was before he had seen in another’s face and in that one’s dark eyes a love that burned warm and true.

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