CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
“I wanted to talk to you.” Her hand stilled against the mare’s neck. “I ran into Adam this morning as he was returning home from the tavern.”
His eyes darted to hers. “He said something inappropriate to you?”
Many things. But she ignored his question and instead asked, “What happened between the two of you yesterday? What did you say to each other?”
His mouth twisted wryly at her bluntness, drawing her attention to the faint glistening of perspiration covering his face, including above his upper lip. Would he taste like man and salt if she dared to lean down and kiss him?
Delaying his answer, he trailed his gaze over her, from her tall black beaver hat down to the tips of her boots poking out from beneath the yards of skirt. “Nice habit. It looks lovely on you.”
That was a dodge, if ever she’d heard one.
“I’m glad you think so. I had to trade a ball gown for it in order to remain under our agreed-upon dress allowance for my trousseau.
” She arched an eyebrow, letting the biting sarcasm of her tease work to replace the primal urge she felt to slip down into this arms and envelope herself in the taste and scent of him.
“I hope you still find it comely when I have to wear it to the London theatre.”
“As long as you don’t ride away at intermission,” he teased, yet the forced smile he gave her was more haunted than humorous.
Cold dread filled her chest, quenching the aching heat she’d felt at the first sight of him.
Whatever was said between the two Cavanaugh men must have been decidedly awful for him to tease her like this.
But couldn’t allow him to avoid her questions.
So she repeated, a bit softer this time, “What happened, Gabe?”
Blowing out a hard breath, he turned away just far enough to squint into the sun at the horizon and admitted, “Adam threatened to blackmail me.”
She held her breath and listened silently as he told her what had passed between them, and all the while he fussed with her mare’s bridle so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with her. She didn’t blame him, most likely too ashamed of Adam’s behavior. Or too furious.
“What will you do?” Helena felt the same shame and fury. She had always known Adam could pass for Satan himself, but with his return, truly, all hell had broken loose.
“I think I’ve convinced him to forget his plan,” he finished.
“Right now, I have him believing that the world would care nothing about Alice’s illegitimacy, and I’m hoping he continues to believe it, stays for our wedding, and then leaves before the first breakfast course is served.
Most likely, he’s hoping I’ll be generous and increase his allowance before he goes if he behaves himself and remembers the importance of family. ”
Helena knew better. Adam cared nothing for the plight of his family, or he wouldn’t have skipped off to India in the first place and sent no word for five years, not even to let them know he was alive…
or returning to Grangely Park. “And if he doesn’t?
” When he doesn’t? she could have said, since it was only a matter of time until Adam did something idiotic.
“If he attempts to blackmail you again, what will you do?”
He shrugged a shoulder.
She took no comfort in the dismissive gesture. “I know you, Gabe.” Better than anyone else in the world, including his brother and aunt. “You won’t let your family be dragged into scandal, not after…” Her voice choked off.
“Not after all the scandal Clarissa committed?” he finished for her, released the bridle, and stepped back with a shake of his head. “What choice will I have but to give him what he wants? I have to protect my family and new wife, my reputation, the dukedom—”
“And Alice,” she reminded him quietly. “She’s the only innocent in all of this.”
“And Alice,” he repeated. “I’ll give him the money in return for his silence, then kick him out of Grangely on his arse.
” He met her gaze. “But it also means I’ll never see my brother again.
We were never close, but now…” He shook his head, not dismissingly—fatalistically. “I know what decision I would make.”
A decision he never wanted to make, she knew.
“You’re timing is perfect, though,” he explained, Adam’s blackmail completely forgotten. Or ignored. “I could use a break.”
Leaving his discarded clothes behind, he untied his horse and swung up onto its back. He turned the gelding into a tight circle and pointed toward the river on the far side of the pasture.
“Fancy a race?” he challenged. “Are you a good enough rider to keep up?”
“No,” she shot back, allowing him the distraction from his brother. For now. “I’m good enough to win.”
He gave her a grin, tapped his heels to his gelding’s sides, and galloped off.
Helena gave chase. Sitting low in her saddle, she urged her mare to go faster, her heart pounding with excitement and her blood coursing at the thrill of the ride.
She knew she could never beat Gabe, despite her boast, not even while riding astride as she was.
His large gelding was simply too fast, eating up the ground beneath him in large lengths, and her smaller mare wasn’t made for racing. But the fun was in the chase.
And oh, what fun it was! The two horses galloped across the fallow field to the river, then followed along it toward the far end of the pasturelands.
Their horses’ hooves pounded across the turf, and the wind whipped against them, stinging at her cheeks.
But the day was warm, fresh, and bright, and for a moment, they could both let go of the problems plaguing them and simply enjoy the rush of speed and the joy of being free.
Despite its much smaller stride, and most likely because he refused to give his mount its head, Helena’s mare followed closely at his gelding’s hindquarters.
When they rushed down into a small valley where the river curved away toward the oak plantations, he galloped on straight and up to a strip of abandoned cottages.
In the sunshine, their whitewashed stone walls stood out brightly against the green grass around them and the green-brown ribbon of the river, appearing secure and timeless despite their missing thatch roofs and broken blue shutters.
He jumped off his horse. When she rode up next to him, he reached up to pull her from her saddle and eased her to the ground, sliding her down her front.
The sudden closeness of him electrified her, so did the way her senses filled with the musky scent of him, of male, sweat, and leather.
Her lips parted beneath the heat of his stare on her mouth, only to soften willingly when his mouth seized hers in a hungry kiss.
Her hands ran up his chest and across the damp shirt that clung to his abdomen and shoulders, to tangle her fingers into the soft hair at his nape and pull his head down until his lips melded against hers and her body melted against his hard one.
“Gabe,” she moaned pleadingly against his lips.
He swung her into his arms and carried her toward the cottage.
Helena wrapped her arms securely around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder, the adrenaline of the race and the pounding of her heart coursing hot blood through her until her skin tingled and her belly tightened with anticipation.
He kicked the old door open with his boot and brought her inside.
Sunshine slanted through the missing roof and warmed the abandoned cottage.
Pieces of broken pottery lay scattered across the hard-packed dirt floor, and the only remaining piece of furniture was a long wooden table shoved up against the wall beneath the broken window.
A lone pot dangled precariously from a rusted hook by the cold hearth. Cool, quiet, isolated…perfect.
He set her on the edge of the table, and his hands went to her hair.
He knocked her tall hat to the floor and pulled out the pins that held her chignon in place, scattering them across the room.
Then he shoved his hands through her hair and spilled it freely over her shoulders and down her back, until it cascaded around her, as wild and free as their chase across the fields.
She could feel her heart racing with his, heard the quickening of his breath, and gave over to the sudden desire flaming between them.
“Gabe,” she whispered and parted her lips in invitation.
With a groan, he cupped her face between his hands to hold her still as his mouth descended onto hers again, and his tongue began to thrust possessively between her lips.
The fierce need behind the sudden embrace stole her breath away, and the ravenous way he devoured her kiss made her head swim.
An unspoken promise gripped her that he wanted to consume more than her kiss, more than the deep taste of her he could claim with the strong plunge of his tongue between her lips—he wanted to devour all of her.
God help her, she wanted exactly that, too. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted herself into his embrace, begging him to give her more…and to take all he wanted of her in return.
Reckless excitement flared through her, and she closed her lips around his tongue to suckle him in time to the throbbing that sprang up between her legs. Her reaction brought a possessive growl from the back of his throat, one she answered with a whimper of surrender.
He tore his mouth away from hers to give her a momentary reprieve, but he didn’t step back.
Instead, he stared down at her as he raised his hand to his mouth and bit into the leather fingers, then pulled the glove from his hand and dropped it to the floor.
The slow movement contradicted the rush of need only seconds before, and the juxtaposition sent a jarring heartbeat thumping through her, landing between her legs with a hard thud.
His eyes never broke contact with hers as he removed the second glove.