Rescued by the Earl's Vows Read online

  ‘He went away.’ She waved vaguely into the dark.

  Why the hell did he have the feeling there was a great deal more to the story? Was this the person she’d wanted him to find?

  Chapter Two

  Why was she telling him all this, Tess wondered. Was it his anonymity causing her to drop her guard? If so, it was bound to be a mistake. Tess glanced over her shoulder. No sign of her cousin. No hope of rescue there. And indeed, it was perfectly acceptable for a man to escort her outside where other couples and groups were sitting at tables surrounded by servants. It was hardly secluded, yet it somehow felt intimate. As if they were completely alone and confidences would be in order.

  How did he do that? Give her the feeling he was trustworthy, when experience had taught her never to trust any man?

  Why, she didn’t even know his name and yet she felt drawn to him. Was it the timbre of his voice? His aura of youth and health, despite the horrible costume?

  Oh heavens, why had she worn the bow and quiver in the mode of a huntress? It was making breathing quite difficult. She slipped one arm out of the strap.

  He was on his feet in a second. ‘Allow me.’

  As he leaned close to ease the confounded thing over her head without disturbing her coiffure, she inhaled a deep breath of his cologne. The scent of sandalwood with another undertone...bergamot, perhaps. It seemed...familiar.

  He placed the bow and quiver on the table between them and resumed his seat.

  She stared into the depths of his hood, but even his eyes were shadowed. ‘Are you sure we haven’t met before?’

  He placed a gloved hand above his heart. ‘I assure you, my lady, we have never been introduced before today.’

  Surely his voice had a familiar ring to it...

  ‘You didn’t tell me what made you choose Artemis?’ The smile in his voice made her imagine a flash of white teeth in a handsome face. Oh, really? He was probably ancient, with a horrid moustache and a bald spot.

  She sipped the nasty drink. Something hot and wicked coursed through her veins, the desire to shock him out of his nonchalance. Shatter the ease with which he lounged in his chair in complete anonymity. ‘She shoots men.’

  Aha! It wasn’t much of a reaction, a slight shift in his posture, but it was something.

  A ghostly laugh reached her ears. He wasn’t in the least discomposed. He was amused.

  Something to admire about him at least. She grinned. ‘Rakehells beware. My arrow tips are sharp.’ He could take the warning however he pleased.

  He reached for the arrows as if to test her words, then for some reason thought better of it. She frowned at the gloved hand resting on the table, curled inward, the little finger out of alignment.

  ‘Why did you choose Death?’ she asked.

  ‘It is easy to accomplish. A black cloak. A mask. A sickle I left at the door.’

  His answer seemed evasive. Most irritating. She did not play such stupid games. ‘Shall we go back inside?’

  ‘As you wish.’

  Lack of interest coloured his voice. Recognition dawned in a flash. The scent. The little finger. If not the low voice, then its mocking boredom. Oh! Such a cleverly worded denial about not having been introduced before today...

  She leaped up, the chair falling backwards, clattering on the flagstones. ‘You!’

  He was on his feet almost as quickly. ‘Lady Tess.’ His hand grabbed her arm as she staggered, unbalanced. ‘Take care.’

  She wrenched her arm away. ‘What game are you playing, Lord Sandford?’

  ‘My lady. You are mistaken—’

  ‘No. I am not. How did you find me? And more to the point, why bother after you turned down my request?’ Oh, heaven help her, he was going to expose her to her cousin. The wretch.

  ‘I thought to return this.’ He retrieved a small item from the folds of his cloak. The pearl ring she’d sold. ‘A lady should never sell her jewels using her own name if she wants to keep their disappearance a secret.’

  She snatched it out of his hand and forced it on over her glove. ‘A gentleman doesn’t go sneaking around following a lady.’ Oh, no! Now people at the other tables were looking at them. ‘I suppose you plan to tell my guardian?’

  He took her arm. ‘Don’t make a scene, young lady. Think of your reputation.’

  ‘Bah. No one knows who we are and no one cares. It is a masquerade.’

  ‘By morning gossip will abound. Your costume fools no one.’

  ‘Whereas yours is the perfect disguise.’ How like a man to avoid taking any responsibility.

  He held out an arm. ‘Come, let us take a turn about the shrubbery as if that was our intention for getting up all along. I am told it is quite beautiful at night.’

  ‘It is dark. We won’t be able to see a thing.’

  ‘Even better.’

  She swallowed the urge to laugh at his scorn of the poor shrubbery. Tried to hang on to her anger.

  ‘Very well, but I expect an explanation of your behaviour.’ She snatched up her bow and slung it over one shoulder. ‘And don’t even think about trying anything untoward. I did not lie when I said my arrows were sharp.’

  ‘Last thing I need is an arrow in my backside,’ he muttered low in her ear. Not quite the voice she’d heard this morning—this time there was laughter in it. How surprising. And attractive. And intriguing.

  Dash it all, the man was a menace.

  Also surprising were the lanterns all along the garden path. Soon they were out of earshot of the couples on the terrace, but not in the dark and not out of sight if anyone had cared to look for them.

  ‘Well?’ she asked peremptorily.

  ‘Well what?’

  She started to turn back. ‘I see you are still playing games.’

  He held her fast by the crook of her elbow, his hand firm but not painful in its restraint.

  ‘Let me go.’

  ‘It is no game when a respectable young lady comes alone to the chambers of a bachelor.’

  The emphasis on the word game sounded bitter. ‘What are you suggesting, sir?’

  ‘That you took a risk with my reputation as well as your own. I have no intention of being forced into marriage.’

  She gasped. Blood ran hot through her veins. Tension had her shaking. ‘You think I would marry you? I don’t like you, sir. Not one bit. I gave you my reason for coming to see you this morning. You gave me your answer. We have no need for further communication.’

  ‘How can you say you don’t like me? You don’t even know me.’ Again he sounded amused. He was like a cat playing with a mouse. A very large self-satisfied cat.

  ‘You will return me to my cousin at once,’ she said with all the dignity she could muster.

  ‘But what about this person you need found?’

  ‘Do not trouble yourself, my lord. I have made other plans.’

  ‘It would be no trouble to me. Others, however, might take weeks to find your answer. I had the impression your matter was urgent.’

  Oooh, he was so very annoying! Even if he did have the right to boast. ‘I have changed my mind.’

  He turned her to face him, bending to peer into her face as if he could read her expression behind the mask. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  While she could not see his face, his intensity made her breathing quicken and her heart flutter strangely.

  He tipped her chin with a finger, staring into her eyes. Mesmerised, she could not move. ‘Let me take you driving tomorrow and you can tell me all about it.’

  At the graze of his breath across her cheek, her insides tightened. He dropped his hand as if burned. Had he sensed her reaction? Oh goodness, she hoped not.

  Panicked by her untoward response to his touch, she opened her mouth to refuse. Closed it again as her brain overtook her emotions. This was wha
t she had wanted, was it not? His help. ‘Very well. I will, of course, return the money you paid for my ring.’

  ‘I don’t want your money.’

  There was a seductive note in his voice. Her body trembled. Shocked, she gazed up into the void where his face should be, a face she could see in her mind’s eye. She had no trouble recalling the mocking smile on his lips. ‘What do you want?’

  She had meant to sound impatient. Dismissive. Instead she sounded scared. Weak.

  ‘I will inform you when we meet tomorrow.’

  She wanted to argue, but she also wanted to find Grey. Seething, she walked at his side, trying to think of suitably cutting words.

  He turned them back towards the terrace, strolling as if there were no undercurrents rippling beneath the surface of their silence.

  At the French doors, she dipped a curtsy. ‘Thank you for a pleasant dance and conversation.’

  ‘Pleasant?’ he murmured.

  Really, the man was impossible. On legs that felt stiff and awkward, with a heart pounding loudly in her ears, she marched in the direction she had last seen Wilhelmina. When she glanced back, he was gone.

  Oh heavens, what would he want? And how far was she prepared to go with this man? Her stomach gave an odd little pulse.

  Dash it, she would insist on gentlemanly behaviour, no matter what.

  * * *

  Jaimie had spent the half the morning expecting a note from Lady Tess politely refusing their engagement to drive. And the other half being annoyed by his lack of concentration on his work.

  He wasn’t certain whether he was pleased or sorry when no such note made an appearance. Of course there was a good possibility that he would arrive at the Rowan front door and be informed that her ladyship was out.

  And that would be that.

  Whatever had possessed him to invite her to go driving, anyway? It wasn’t as if she was the sort of woman whose company he enjoyed. She was prickly and combative. A less subtle female he couldn’t imagine. She didn’t even know how to flirt. They might have traded all kinds of barbs about those arrows in her quiver.

  Yet surprisingly, he’d enjoyed her directness and her willingness to confront him. He’d always thought debutantes an insipid, simpering lot. What he did not like, however, was that she had occupied too much of his thoughts these past few hours. He kept wondering how she had recognised him beneath his costume. Something had given him away. Perhaps she’d tell him what it was at their meeting. He certainly would not ask. He intended to keep their relationship strictly business.

  He pulled his phaeton up outside the town house and his liveried tiger jumped down and held the horses’ heads while he knocked on the front door.

  ‘I’ll let her ladyship know you are here, my lord. Will you come in?’ the butler said.

  ‘I’ll wait out here. My tiger has the horses, but they’re a mite fresh.’

  ‘Very good, my lord.’ The butler closed the door.

  Not instant rejection then. He returned to his phaeton.

  A few moments later Lady Tess tripped down the steps followed by an elderly maid. Last night she’d looked like a tasty morsel in her figure-hugging Greek robe. Today she almost looked like any other young lady of the nobility. Her pale green-and-white-striped carriage dress came up high at the throat, with several tiers of ruffles up to her chin. The gown fell to the ground with a festoon of flounces around the hem. A leghorn bonnet decorated with flowers and ribbons the colour of the dress perched on her head—but a few chestnut curls framed her astonishingly lovely face, perfect in shape and proportion, except perhaps for that stubborn little chin.

  It would be easy to dismiss her as an empty-headed beauty if one did not see the underlying determination in her expression and the intelligence in those amber eyes. Had she arrived at his chambers without her veil, he might have dismissed her as a pretty little schemer out for his title. Had it been cleverness on her part, or a lack of artifice?

  She raised an eyebrow and he realised he’d been staring. He came forward to escort her to the carriage.

  She tutted. ‘How are we to fit three people?’

  ‘One at the back and two on the seat.’

  He grinned at the horror on the maid’s face.

  ‘He means his tiger, Mims,’ Lady Tess said, frowning. ‘It is an open carriage. You are not needed.’

  The maid curtsied and scurried back indoors. Lady Tess, meanwhile, wandered a little way along the path.

  ‘Changed your mind?’ he drawled. He certainly didn’t care if she drove with him or not. Well, not much at least.

  ‘Not at all. I was admiring your horses. It is not often one sees a pair so perfectly matched, although the offside one is a little heavier in build, I believe.’

  His jaw dropped. No one but his own very expert groom had noted the slight discrepancy in the horses’ bone structure. ‘Got an eye for a bit of blood and bone, have you, my lady?’ Damn it, that was not the smoothest thing he could have said.

  ‘I like to see a nicely matched pair. My father had a pair of beautiful steppers. I would love to drive them.’ She leaned towards them, stretching out a hand as if to pat Romulus. The brute showed the whites of his eyes.

  Jaimie started forward. ‘Be careful.’

  She stopped before she got too close. ‘Testy, is he?’

  ‘Always. And, no, you may not drive them.’ Never again would any woman drive his horses.

  The expected pout did not make an appearance. Instead, she cast him an expressive look. ‘We’ll leave that discussion for later.’

  That discussion was closed. He assisted her up on to the phaeton and, on the way around to climb into the driver’s seat, he spoke to his tiger in a low voice. ‘When we reach the park you can take yourself off. I’ll pick you up at the gate for the drive back.’

  The lad touched his cap. ‘Yes, me lord. But stir yer stumps, would ya? His fussiness would like to be orf.’

  Jaimie stroked ‘his fussiness’ along his neck and down his wither and the horse settled before he sprang into the carriage and took up the reins. The boy leaped up behind.

  The animals weren’t quite as energetic as they had been on the drive over, but they were still feeling their bits. He urged them into a spanking trot, feathering between a couple of slower carriages and into a break in the traffic. Lady Tess sat calmly with her hands in her lap, clearly trusting him not to tip her into the road.

  Most normal ladies were notoriously nervous about anything that looked the least bit hazardous. Then there were the reckless ones, like his first wife, who took ridiculous risks. Clearly, Lady Tess fell into the latter camp. And he was a twice-born fool to get involved with her nonsense.

  ‘We are fortunate the weather is clear today,’ he said as they turned the corner at the end of the street. Weather being the safest topic of conversation.

  ‘After the rain of the past few days, we are fortunate indeed,’ she replied coolly.

  As they entered Hyde Park, many heads turned in their direction. Open mouths and wide eyes abounded. News of his driving Lady Tess would be all around town by the end of the evening. His teeth gritted at the thought, but it couldn’t be helped. There were only so many respectable ways to talk to a lady in relative private and this was one of them.

  The gossips would be jumping to all kinds of conclusions. Did she know that? The horses slowed to a funereal pace as they joined the traffic mincing down Rotten Row.

  His tiger jumped down and hared off.

  Lady Tess frowned.

  He was getting quite a few frowns today. ‘I told him to go, because I do not want our conversation overheard.’

  The frown cleared. ‘Where better to be alone than in plain view of the world.’ She chuckled. ‘I can see why you are good at what you do.’

  ‘What I do?’ He quirked a brow.

 
‘Finding people. Investigating things.’

  Damn that article, though few knew the real depth of his ‘investigations’ as she had called them. And it was as good a time as any to get to the point of this drive, even if he was enjoying her company more than he would have imagined. ‘Who is it you want me to find?’

  She hesitated. ‘May I have your assurance you will keep my confidence, no matter what?’

  He probably ought to be insulted by her question. Indeed, on one level he was insulted. On another, the fact that she was even considering giving him her trust felt like an incredible compliment. Why would that be?

  ‘Why are you smiling in that mocking way?’ she asked. ‘Did I say something you find foolish?’

  Prickly little thing. ‘I didn’t realise I was smiling.’ But if he was mocking anyone, it was himself. At the way she kept surprising him. ‘And, yes, you can be assured that anything you tell me will remain confidential.’

  She drew in a deep breath, drawing his attention to the snug fit of her carriage dress. To the way it moulded to the soft curves and hollows of her petite form. He turned his eyes resolutely to his horses. He was not here to flirt with the woman. He was here because she needed his help, despite that she irritated him beyond endurance.

  ‘I am trying to locate my father’s bailiff, Mr Freeps. He left for another position shortly after my father died.’

  Not what he had expected at all. He had been waiting for something along the lines of the boy she had spoken of, or another sold or pawned item she wanted back.

  ‘Surely your cousin’s man of business would have this information?’

  ‘Yes, and he would immediately report my request to my cousin.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘What do you see?’

  The defiance in her voice, her wariness of his motives, struck him on the raw.

  He gave her an impatient glance. ‘I see why you do not wish to go to your cousin’s man of business. Why exactly do you wish to find this man Freeps?’

  ‘Why is that any of your concern?’

  ‘And when I find him, what then?’

  ‘If you find him, you will provide me with his address. That is all.’ She pressed her lips together.