Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 03] (17 page)

Octavia had recovered enough of her composure to match his dry humor. "It does call to mind a number of questions."

"Yes, almost as many as why you are traveling unescorted with young Miss Renfrew."

"There is a very reasonable explanation to my predicament," she said quickly. "But I prefer to hear you out first."

"Very well." He paused as if to consider how to begin. "Nicholas has lost both of his parents in the last six months. His father, an officer on Kutusov's staff, was killed in Austria, while his mother died during an outbreak of influenza—"

"The poor lad," she interrupted. "But how is it that his English is so good? You cannot have spent more than a few weeks with him."

The faint smile reappeared. "No, I am not that good of a teacher. His mother was English, as was his grandmother." Then his expression sobered once again. "To put it simply, it appears Nicholas is now in grave danger from his Russian relatives. If the boy were to meet with an untimely accident, his father's considerable fortune, as well as the title, will pass to his uncle."

"I see." There was a slight hesitation. "I take it there has already been a questionable incidence."

"Several, actually."

Octavia didn't speak for several minutes. The sleigh glided past several snow-covered fields, then entered another thick stand of fir and larch. It was considerably darker underneath the thick boughs and she pulled her heavy coat tighter to ward off the accompanying chill. A shiver ran down her spine, but somehow she sensed it was not entirely caused by the weather. Stealing a sideways glance at Alex's face, she noted the fine lines etched around his mouth and the dark shadows under his eyes. Despite his penchant for making light of things, he looked to be under a good deal of strain.

"Is this uncle pursuing you?"

He drew in a deep breath. "I am not sure," he admitted. "However, it would not be surprising. He is desperate for both the money and the title, and I do not doubt he will use every resource at his command to track us down."

"Just where are you going, that you believe the boy will be safe?"

"St. Petersburg."

Octavia started. "St. Petersburg! Why, that is where...." She bit her lip. "What makes you think he will be safe there? Has he relatives in the city who can be trusted?"

"Not exactly. But there are ships there heading for England."

There was another bit of silence before Octavia turned a penetrating gaze on him. "How is it you, a recently arrived tutor, have come to be involved in all of this?"

Alex kept his eyes leveled on the road ahead, though his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. "I'll not waste time trying to fob you off with some made-up farrididdle. I have not been entirely forthcoming with you, Miss Hadley. I have been... engaged by Nicholas's English relatives not merely to teach the lad history and geography, but to see him safely to London."

"It seems a rather dangerous assignment. Why you?"

"I imagine that, based on my past, they assumed I might be willing to take the risk."

"I hope the reward is worth it."

His jaw set. "Oh, it is."

Ah, so he was doing this for money.
Well, he must be getting quite a lot of it to venture losing his life. Her hands clasped even tighter in her lap. And just what did he mean by his comment about the past? No doubt there were any number of unsavory incidents that didn't bear asking about. She already knew he was prone to becoming thoroughly cupshot and had a penchant for chasing skirts. And he had handled the recent encounter with knives and fists with a cool aplomb that made it evident he was no stranger to back alley brawls—or worse.

Alex slanted a faintly amused look at her. "Debating whether you have jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire?"

How was it that he seemed able to read her thoughts? A flush stole over her face as she fumbled to turn the collar of her coat up to cover her cheeks. "I imagine I am better off being roasted with you than being burned by that lot back there."

He laughed. "I shall take that as a compliment, for it will no doubt be the closest to one that I shall ever wrest from your lips."

There was a slow intake of breath. "Mr. Sheffield, I have no allusions as to your faults—and I am sure they are many—"

"Too numerous to recite," he murmured in interruption.

"—but I hope I should not be so churlish as to fail to convey my gratitude for your actions at the inn. Without your bravery, our fate would have been... unspeakable."

"Well, it didn't come to that, so let us put the matter behind us," he said quickly. Then, to keep her from dwelling on such disturbing thoughts, he sought to change the subject. "Now that you know of my travails, it's time you explain to me just how you have come to be wandering with Miss Renfrew in the wilds of the countryside."

She told him briefly what had happened, sticking to the barest of facts, but when she finished, his brow was furrowed in anger as well as concern.

"The greedy louts," he muttered. "They should be horsewhipped at the very least, for abandoning the two of you."

Octavia's jaw tightened. "Indeed. And you may be sure that I shall see to it that Emma never again has to endure the prospect of life with relatives who offer no warmth or affection but care only to wrest some sort of advantage for themselves from someone else's vulnerability."

He didn't answer, but a thoughtful expression came over his features as he guided the horses around a fallen spruce. It was only after the sleigh had brushed through the a small drift of snow that he spoke again "You mean to see the girl back to England, I take it?"

She nodded.

"And so you go to St. Petersburg as well." It was a statement rather than a question. "Just how do you expect to manage that?"

Octavia's spine stiffened. "That's hardly any of your concern. You may leave us off at the next coaching stop. I have sufficient funds and am perfectly capable of... " Her voice caught for a fraction as she recalled what had just happened. "...of managing a simple journey for the two of us." Even to her own ears, her bravado rang rather hollow, given the circumstances.

Alex gave a snort. "How long do you think it will take to have that scene at the inn repeated, Miss Hadley?"

Her chin jutted out.

"You may be as stubborn as a mule, but you are not a fool. You were very lucky that I happened along, but Lady Luck is a fickle companion—I wouldn't count on her company. A female traveling alone and unprotected is a tempting target for all manner of rapacious men, especially in this country." When she still didn't speak, he added, "If I leave you off as you wish, I don't doubt you will be robbed and raped by morning."

She sucked in her breath. "I certainly appreciate your tact and delicacy, Mr. Sheffield." The edge of sarcasm in her voice was honed by the fact that she knew he was probably right. "But you are forgetting I have a pistol with which to defend myself."

"It might make a difference if you could hit more than the damn wall," he retorted. "And perhaps you are forgetting that the sort of cur we are talking about usually runs in a pack."

Octavia refused to let her shoulders sag under the weighty truth of his words. "Well, I have no choice," she snapped. "So I will just have to cope as best I can and hope that Luck, if she is truly a lady, will not desert a fellow female."

"You have a choice, Miss Hadley, though I fear I cannot promise it will be any less perilous than the other alternative." His lips twitched. "Only your life may be at stake, not your virtue."

Despite everything, she couldn't keep her own mouth from quirking upward as well. "How very reassuring." Her expression then turned serious again. "You have enough troubles of your own without being burdened with mine. Your offer is very kind but I find I must decline."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Actually, I was wrong. You do not have a choice. You and the child are coming with us, and that is all there is to it."

"Oh come, you needn't feel compelled by some absurd notion of gentlemanly honor to put yourself in such an awkward position."

He stared straight ahead, a rigid set to his lean features. "Because, of course, I am no gentleman?"

She looked taken aback, then a soft laugh escaped her lips. "Mr. Sheffield, if you were a gentleman, you would not be stuck in such a coil as this, so far away from home. Outcasts and misfits such as us must do what we must to survive."

He grinned. "There, you see? You have just admitted we make a matched pair. Surely you cannot—"

A shriek from inside the carriage interrupted the discussion.

Alex pulled the horses to a stop and jumped down from his perch, Octavia close on his heels. The sight that confronted the two of them when he yanked the door open was enough to draw a gasp of surprise from both adults.

Emma's fur hat was sadly askew and her face was already stained with tears. Nicholas's cheek bore the angry red imprint of a slap, and though he refrained from any such unmanly display of emotion, his lower lip was quivering quite perceptibly.

"Good Lord," muttered Alex under his breath. "At least the two of us have not yet found it necessary to come to blows."

"At least not yet," murmured Octavia. In a louder voice she sought to sort out the trouble. "Emma—" she began.

"He pulled my braid!" wailed the girl.

"She called me a bad name!" cried the boy at the same time.

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did. You called me ass." He turned to Alex. "What is 'ass'?"

"It's a donkey, stupid."

"Emma!" said Octavia sternly. "It is most unfair to call someone stupid for not understanding—"

"She is the stupid one," jeered Nicholas. "She—"

"That is quite enough!" roared Alex.

An instant silence descended on the little group.

"Now, perhaps we may deal with this in a more civilized fashion." He regarded the two young people with a quelling gaze. "Miss Renfrew, kindly tell me what happened."

A squeak of protest from Nicholas was quickly cut off by another stern look. "You will have your turn as well," said Alex. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Miss Renfrew? Miss Hadley and I are waiting."

Emma's eyes dropped to the carriage floor. "He pulled my hair. Hard. So I slapped him."

"And why did he pull your hair?"

Her mouth scrunched up in a rather guilty expression. "Boys are odious," was all she muttered.

Alex turned to Nicholas.

"She called me a bad name, Alex," he said with a pout. "I do not like her at all. I want her to leave—the sooner the better."

Alex's countenance began to glaze over. Armed assailants he could deal with, but two brangling children....

"He started it, Mr. Sheffield. Truly, I did not even speak to him until it became clear he was out to provoke me."

The boy howled in outrage. "That's not true!"

Octavia took one look at Alex's confused expression and took matters into her own hands. "I've heard quite enough from both of you. Emma, you will apologize this instant to the count for your unladylike behavior."

"But—" One look at her guardian's face caused the girl to reconsider her protest. A barely audible mumble followed, delivered with a decided lack of grace, but Octavia let it pass.

The boy's smug expression was quickly wiped from his face by her next words. "And you, Master Nicholas will apologize to Miss Renfrew for your own shabby conduct."

The look of mute appeal thrown Alex's way was studiously ignored. The boy swallowed hard, then forced out the required response.

"Now the two of you will shake on it."

With great reluctance, the two small hands barely grazed each other before being jerked back as if scorched by a flame.

"Consider any debt you feel you might owe me paid in full," murmured Alex as his fingers sought to loosen the knot of his cravat.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she stepped several paces away from the carriage. "Perhaps now you would care to reconsider your offer?"

"Surely it can't get any worse than that."

Her brow arched. "Did you not have any sisters, Mr. Sheffield?"

He shook his head.

"Well that explains such a sanguine outlook." She pulled her coat closer and stamped her feet on the frozen ground. "Should we not be off before the horses take a chill? We could argue until Doomsday without coming to any accord, but it can wait until later." Her gaze darted back toward the door that was still ajar. "I suppose I had best ride inside to forestall any further fireworks."

"You have my eternal gratitude."

"I would rather have your best efforts at the ribbons. I have a feeling the sooner we get to St. Petersburg, the better."

Chapter 9