Chapter Three #2
I lifted a hand to push back my sodden hair and saw there
were a bunch of saddles lying on beams lining the walls (like, a bunch,
as in, they could open a store). Pegs that held bridles and reins and such. A
couple of benches with some scattered tools where it looked like they did work
on the saddles. And a ratty armchair next to a little iron stove in the corner
at the back, where one would rest after their weary work on saddles.
The stove was lit, and the room was cozy warm.
Okay then, maybe we were going to wait out the storm here.
Good idea.
Except Loren slammed the door really loudly,
whirled me around to face him using my hand, and then shouted, “Have you lost
your bloody mind?”
“I—”
“You’re soaking, godsdamned wet,”
he declared.
He was too, and one could say that shirt plastered against
his wide chest, even with the waistcoat in the way, was something.
Okay, deep breath and…
“That isn’t lost on me, your grace,” I replied.
“Women do not drive carriages,” he proclaimed.
Ummmmmmmm…
“They do not stable them,” he went on. “Or horses.”
I sucked both my lips in.
“Servants deal with the conveyances,” he kept going.
I held my breath in order to hold my tongue.
“And you do not”—he gave my hand he still held a slight
jerk—“ever dash into a bloody storm.”
“It’s just some rain,” I pointed out, though we both knew
that was a tad bit of an understatement.
“You’re a bloody female,” he stated.
Okay, I needed to hold on to my patience.
I didn’t hold on to my patience.
“I’m glad you noticed,” I retorted sarcastically.
His expression changed and my immediate world changed with
it.
He was furious, he wasn’t hiding it, and he was this to such
an extent, the heat of it felt like it was singeing my skin.
It was scary AF.
He let my hand go but advanced on me in a way I had no
choice but to retreat.
“If this caper was to get my attention, it’s both stupid and
cruel,” he said in a dangerous voice as he backed me toward the corner.
Cruel?
“I simply wanted to put the horses away,” I told him
something he knew.
“You came with two grooms, and we have at least that many.
You wish the horses stalled, you pull the fucking cord to call a
servant to tell them to tell the grooms to put the fucking horses
away.”
Wow.
He said the f-word.
Twice.
To me.
A lady (as far as he knew).
I knew they had that word in this world because Dad-not-Dad
hated me saying it.
But I’d never heard anyone else say it (though, until very
recently, I hadn’t been around anyone but Dad-not-Dad).
And somehow, having that be the only time I heard it from
someone other than me, it gave it much more gravitas.
I hit something, it was the armchair, so I was forced to
stop.
Loren stopped toe-to-toe with me, so close, I could actually
feel the hem of my skirt resting on his boots.
“I think you’re being a bit dramatic,” I whispered, sounding
uncertain of my own words because his presence was overpowering, and it was
that not only because he was a pretty big and definitely powerful guy.
“Do you?” he asked with an almost sneer. “Is that what you
think?”
I wasn’t a fan of the sneer.
“Actually, right now I think you need to step back.”
“My mother was seeing to some villagers. She did that when
people were ill and needed assistance, or were recovering and needed company.
She was in a phaeton. The weather turned when she was on her way back. She got
caught in the rain. She caught a chill. A week later, she was dead,” he shared.
I blinked up at him.
“My sister had a puppy who fell into the creek. The one
right out there.” He jabbed a finger toward the window, but he didn’t look that
way, he kept his eyes locked to me. “She went in after it. It was late fall.
Warm in the morning, chilly by the afternoon. But the creek was freezing. The
puppy lived. She went down with a cough that turned into a wracking fever that
eventually burned her little body away. She was eight.”
“Oh my God.”
His head twitched.
Damn.
Dad-not-Dad told me they had more than one god here.
“My…my gods,” I covered.
“Am I being dramatic, Lady Maxine?” he asked.
“I didn’t know about your mother and sister.”
“Everybody knows about my mother and sister.”
Although I knew how to wear a hat and how to address a duke,
this very important fact about my husband-to-be had not been covered in my
tutelage, thank you so much (not), Dad-not-Dad.
“I’ve been away in Fleuridia at
school, your grace, until very recently. Father wanted me to stay down there,
especially during the troubles, and I became enamored of my studies. He isn’t
much of a correspondent, and I didn’t get a great deal of news from home. I’m
sorry, but I really did not know,” I told him.
“You’ve been away in Fleuridia,”
he stated.
And he did this dubiously.
Oh boy.
Why would he be dubious?
I mean, of course he should. I not only wasn’t his fiancée,
I wasn’t even of his world, and I intended to play him and then disappear.
But why would he be?
“Yes, I extended my studies there.” God, how to rattle this
off without sounding like I was rattling it off? “Art history and—”
“It matters not whether you know art. What matters is if you
have a fertile womb and know how to host a party.”
Record scratch and repeat.
Oh no he…did…not.
But he did.
And he kept going.
“And you have the sense not to run out into the rain. And
you know your place in a household, or perhaps more importantly, a servant’s
place. But you have enough of a hold on your place never to speak to
me in the manner you address your sire.”
“I would certainly not speak to you that way,” I said
softly.
“I should hope not,” he replied.
“Unless you were acting like an utter ass, as you are now.
On those occasions, I make no promises.”
His eyes flared.
“Now, sir, step away from me.”
“Considering we’re set to spend the rest of our lives
together, there are things we should discuss.”
“And we shall do that,” I retorted. “When I’m not sopping
wet and…” I got up on my toes, “insanely angry at you.”
His brows flew up.
“Angry at me?”
“Allow me to make one thing clear, your grace.”
He didn’t move away even if he gave a sense of settling in.
“And that would be?” he prompted.
“I have been living on my own, in charge of myself, for some
time. I am more than likely not what you’re accustomed to in this world.”
“This world?”
Shit.
“Country. Hawkvale. Whatever,”
I snapped. “I am independent. I know my own mind. If I feel the need to speak
it, I…um…shall. Now, allow me to assure you, I kill at
hosting a party.”
“Kill?”
“I murder a party, as in, I’m bloody good at throwing one.”
“Excellent,” he muttered, his gaze beginning to drift over
my face.
“And I have a variety of things to say about servants, and
the bourgeoisie, but I suggest we save those for another time as there is not
only a variety, but also a great deal to be said.”
“Mm,” he hummed. Then asked, “Bourgeoisie?”
“That would be you,” I stated.
“And you, dear heart,” he retorted. “And I’ll add, very Fleuridian of you.”
I had figured out, in some of Dad-not-Dad’s teaching, that
in Fleuridia, the country south of Hawkvale where I was supposed to have spent the last twenty
years of my life, they spoke French.
Though they didn’t call it French, of course.
Sadly, I did not speak French, which I worried would
eventually be awkward to explain.
But that wasn’t for now.
“We’re getting off topic,” I warned.
“Are we?”
“I’m enumerating all the fabulous things you’ll get when you
get me, regardless of my fear that you won’t think they’re fabulous.”
“Indeed. Fleuridia is known for
producing headstrong females.”
“Oh my God…zzzzz,” I
hissed. “Did you just use the word ‘headstrong’?”
“Do not fear, Countess, I’m changing my mind about the
manner in which I’ll allow you to address me.”
“A-allow?” I choked.
His eyes settled on my mouth. “Do you need me to stroke your
back?”
My nipples suddenly perked up.
“Why on earth would I need that?”
His gaze came to my own. “You seem to be choking on your
words.”
I shifted out from in front of him, declaring, “I think
we’re done here.”
He caught me with an arm around my belly and pulled me back.
I looked to where I stood but a moment before, then I looked
down at the toes of his boots that were again amongst my skirts.
Then I looked up at him.
“Did you just deny my departure and do that physically?”
“I did, as I disagree. We are not done here.”
“A warning, Lord Remington,” I said low. “When I wish not to
be somewhere, I do not allow a man to waylay me.”
“Do you not?”
“It would seem we’re destined to wed,” I pointed out.
“It’s lovely to know you understand the concept of a
contract.”
I allowed myself to smile.
His eyes raced to my mouth with that.
So he watched my lips say, “And it’s lovely to know I
haven’t scared you off and you have more mettle than I first assumed.”
His lips twitched, accepting my score.
And then I shared softly, “So I will be your wife, and I may
give you daughters. I urge you, your grace, to consider for a moment how you
would feel if another man prohibited me or them from going when we wished to
go.”
His gaze came to mine.
“Countess,” he whispered, appearing contrite.
In other words, he got my point.
“Call me crazy, but I’ve enjoyed our tête-à-tête.
However, it would mean a great deal to me if you would make an effort to learn
when to back me into a corner, and when…not.”
My heart skipped in my chest when he immediately stepped
aside.
Okay, um…
Why was that the sexiest thing a man ever did around me?
Feeling weirdly nervous all of a sudden, I touched my wet
hair and moved to the door, mumbling, “I must be off. I fear my toilette prior
to dinner will take twice as much time.”
I stopped after I opened the door and turned back to him.
Damn, he was good-looking.
Also, he liked ass too, since when I turned, his eyes were
aimed at mine before they came up to my face.
“I’m very sorry about your mother and sister. I’m also
sorry, with what happened to them, that what I did with the horses concerned
you. I’ll make a point not to do something like that again.”
“I would be obliged, Countess.”
I dipped my chin.
He watched me intently.
I slipped out the door.
During our discussion, the rain had gone.
Dodging puddles, I dashed to the house as quickly as my
skirt would allow me, feeling unsettled.
Because before I got to Pinkwick
House, Loren Copeland, Marquess of Remington was just a guy I had to play to
buy time to get my mom safe and get the hell out of there.
Now he was a guy I might just like.
And that complicated things.
Greatly.