Beyond Compare (3 page)

Kyria stopped short, looking up into the American’s face with a gasp. “Oh, my heavens!”

“What? What is it?” He straightened at the look of alarm on Kyria’s face.

“That’s it. They have gone there to do something, I know it. They are going to try to stop the hunt!” Kyria groaned, raising her hands to her head. “The squire will be furious. And right before Olivia’s wedding, too! I must do something. I have to stop them.”

She turned and started toward the stables.

But Rafe was beside her in an instant, grabbing her wrist. “Wait. Let me help you.”

The touch of his fingers, warm and callused, on her arm sent a strange sensation sizzling up Kyria’s arm, and she blinked at him, momentarily distracted. “But I…I have to try to find them. I’m sorry, you must excuse me. But—”

“No, that’s what I’m saying. I’ll take you.”

“Riding double? But he must be tired.” Kyria glanced a little doubtfully at McIntyre’s stallion.

“He barely broke a sweat. I promise you, he’s strong. You needn’t waste the time of having your horse saddled. Just tell me where to go.” McIntyre took her arm unceremoniously and led her to his horse. He tossed her onto the horse’s back, then mounted behind her.

“Where to?” he asked, his arms going around her as he took the reins firmly in his grip.

Wordlessly, Kyria pointed. Rafe dug in his heels, and they thundered off.

K
yria sat sidesaddle on the horse, her body against Rafe’s chest, and his arms curved around her to hold the reins. She was encircled by his warmth, and she could not help but be aware of how her hip was nestled very intimately between his legs. She had never ridden this way before, and it was rather unnerving—not the least because it produced such strange sensations in her. There was an unaccustomed warmth in her loins, a kind of softening, a stirring that was undeniably exciting. She could not help but be aware of how very close he was to her or of the strength of his arm around her back.

“I should have taken my horse,” she said, struggling to ignore the tumult within.

“Why is that?” he asked, his breath stirring her hair.

“Well, I…” She turned and found herself looking straight into Rafe’s face, only inches away. She was suddenly very hot, her throat constricted. Kyria cleared her throat. “I, uh, I’m sure that in the long run, it probably would have been faster. Your horse is bound to tire.”

“I told you—he’s strong. And you’re light as a feather.”

“Hardly,” Kyria replied dryly. “I’m almost five foot ten.”

“Yep, you’re a tall one, all right.” He grinned, his blue eyes looking at her with clear approval. “I noticed that right off. I like that. Still hardly weigh enough to tire this fella out.” He reached down and patted his horse’s neck. “You just tell me where to go.”

“Cut across the meadow up there,” Kyria said, pointing, doing her best to ignore the feel of Rafe’s body against hers and finding it somewhat difficult to do. “I know where they set the dogs loose. The squire is very predictable. I am sure that is why Con and Alex thought they would be able to intercept them. If we go up Bedloe Hill, I think we’ll be able to catch sight of them.”

They galloped across the meadow and jumped the fence at the end, the stallion’s hooves barely scraping the top. Kyria, held securely in the circle of Rafe’s arms, the breeze of their passage ruffling her already-disordered hair, could not help but thrill to the excitement of the ride. Her pulse was up, her breath coming faster in her throat, as he urged the horse forward. Rafe’s masculine scent teased her nostrils, mingling with the smell of horse and the crisp fall air.

She directed him toward a slope, and they started up it, necessarily slowing as the ground rose before them. As the climb became steeper, they dismounted and walked the rest of the way up the hill, Rafe leading his horse by the reins.

“I hope we can find them before they stop the hunt,” Kyria said worriedly. “Squire Winton will be furious if they ruin it. He was so looking forward to our guests
joining him. He is desperately hoping that Lord Badgerton will approve—he’s a noted huntsman. And if Con and Alex ruin the hunt and make him look foolish…” She sighed. “He hasn’t been happy with the twins, anyway, ever since their boa got out and—”

“Their
what?
” Rafe interrupted.

“Their boa constrictor. They love animals. They have a veritable menagerie up there in the nursery.”

“Mmm.” McIntyre looked at her in some fascination. “And what, ah, happened exactly when the boa constrictor got out?”

“Oh. He ate the squire’s peacock.”

Rafe let out a choked noise, and Kyria glared at him.

“Oh, yes, laugh all you want, but I can tell you, Squire Winton found it less than amusing. The twins were lucky he was too agitated to put ammunition in his gun or that would have been the end of Augustus.”

“Augustus would be the boa constrictor, I presume.”

“Yes. It took all Reed’s diplomacy—and a nice sum of money in compensation, too, I might add—to placate Squire Winton. He was inordinately proud of that bird. Personally, I thought it wasn’t much of a loss. I have always found peacocks strutting across one’s lawn rather too grandiose. Besides, they make a dreadful noise.”

“I quite agree.” Rafe’s blue eyes danced with laughter.

Kyria cast him a quelling glance, repressing the smile that threatened to twitch up her lips. “It’s all very well for you. You don’t have to have the man as a neighbor.”

“No, and thank heavens,” Rafe put in earnestly, “what with peacocks crowing at all hours—or whatever it is peacocks do.”

“They screech like someone is killing them,” Kyria informed him disgustedly.

“I reckon, then, they didn’t notice right off when Augustus got him.”

Kyria gave a bark of laughter and clapped her hand over her mouth. “You dreadful man! That’s not at all funny.”

He grinned at her. “I know. That’s why you didn’t laugh.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have.”

They reached the crest of the hill and gazed out at the vista spread below them. “There!” Kyria cried, pointing. “I can see a scarlet coat. Blast! They’re stopped. Oh, dear, it must be the twins.”

“Then let’s go.” Rafe swung her up into the saddle and followed suit, then started off down the hill.

They soon could no longer see the distant figures and had to rely on their memory as they moved quickly down the hill and cut through a stand of trees beyond. They emerged onto a narrow trail, and there Rafe gave the horse his head. Pounding along the track, they curved around another copse of trees and emerged on the other side onto a run of grass lying between the wooded areas.

And there, milling around, were a number of riders and horses. Rafe reined in the stallion and rode at a more sedate pace through the group to the front, where a straining, yapping brace of hounds was being held in check by the keepers. In front of them stood a portly man with wide, muttonchop whiskers who was dressed in the coat of the master of the hunt. He was almost as red in the face as his coat, and he flailed his arms around wildly as he shouted at the two boys before him.

Rafe saw immediately that these must be the twins
in question. Slender as reeds and rather taller than most ten-year-old boys, they were black-haired and blue-eyed and as alike as two peas in a pod. They stood facing the large man, shoulders squared and arms at their sides. Behind them, cowering under a bush, was a small red fox.

Rafe had barely pulled his horse to a stop before Kyria was off and running toward her brothers. Rafe tethered his horse to the nearest bush and followed her.

“Squire Winton!” Kyria ran between the portly man and her brothers. “I am so sorry. I do apologize for them.” She turned and glared at her brothers. “What do you think you are doing?”

The two boys crossed their arms almost in unison and stared back at her mulishly. “It is cruel and wrong, Kyria,” one of them told her bluntly. “You said so yourself, and so did Mother.”

“Yes, I know,” Kyria said. “But you haven’t any right to interfere with the squire’s hunt.”

“Well, what right do they have to slaughter some poor defenseless animal?” the other boy countered.

The squire let out a bellow at these words and shook his riding crop at them. “You young imps of Satan! Someone should take you over his knee!”

Kyria whipped back around and looked at the squire coolly. “May I remind you, sir, that the twins’ discipline is entirely a matter for their mother and father and nothing to do with you.”

“They are incorrigible!”

Kyria’s eyes flashed. “They are not incorrigible! They are simply boys with good hearts who love animals and dislike seeing them killed purely for sport.”

“You see?” The squire shook his forefinger at her.
“That attitude is precisely why they are the way they are. You people encourage them to run wild and—”

Kyria set her fists on her hips pugnaciously. “We encourage them to think for themselves.”

“They ought to be taken in hand!” The squire’s eyes bulged, his face turning an alarming shade of red, and he took a step toward the twins.

Kyria took a quick step sideways, again interposing herself between the squire and her brothers. The squire remained in the same position, the crop raised menacingly, his face contorted with rage.

Rafe moved quickly between the squire and Kyria, sliding his hand beneath his coat as he said, “Now, hold on a minute here.”

“Who the devil are you?” the squire demanded.

“Well,” Rafe answered, pulling a short-barreled pistol out from beneath his jacket, “I’m the man with the gun.”

All the others looked at him in amazement as Rafe continued, “I suggest you back away from the lady and these children and calm down a little. How does that sound?”

“What?” Squire Winton stared goggle-eyed at the pistol, then back at Rafe. “But…but…”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Rafe went on agreeably. “You’re thinking this isn’t much of a gun for a man to carry, and you’d be right. It’s a sissy sort of thing. But I found the people in this country looked at me askance, you see, when I was out in the street with a Colt strapped to my side. So I figured this would be better, less alarming, you know, and I can just carry it in a pocket inside my coat. It doesn’t even disturb the line.”

“Criminy!” he heard one of the boys breathe behind him, and the squire took a quick step backward.

“Mr. McIntyre…” Kyria began uncertainly.

“Don’t worry. I don’t have plans to shoot anybody,” Rafe assured her cheerfully. “Not yet, anyway. But I think we can have a calmer discussion of the facts now. Isn’t that right, Mr. Winton?”

The squire nodded, casting another uneasy glance at Rafe’s gun. Rafe stuck it back into his pocket and stepped aside, then leaned toward Kyria and murmured, “You might remember you were wanting to
stop
a big fight…”

Kyria grimaced at him, but then turned to the squire and said in a much more pleasant tone of voice, “Squire, please, accept my apologies for the boys. They will come home with me right now, and I will do my best to ensure that nothing like this happens again.”

“But, Kyria…” one of the boys protested.

Kyria silenced him with one sharp glance and spoke again to the squire. “I wouldn’t want any unpleasantness to spoil the friendship that our families have enjoyed for so long. The duke and duchess have always expressed gratitude for having such a good neighbor as you.”

“But they stopped the hunt!” the squire exclaimed, unable to let go of his grievance.

“Yes, I know, and they acted quite unbecomingly in doing so,” Kyria agreed soothingly. “I assure you that I will take the matter up with my mother and father.”

“But what about the hunt?” The squire’s voice was taking on something of a wail.

“Now, wait.” Rafe spoke up again. “Sorry, I’m an American, so maybe I’m a little confused here. Let me get this straight. You’re saying that all you folks are
out here, with the dogs and everything, trying to chase down that one little fox?”

“Yes, of course. It’s a hunt.” Winton looked disdainfully at him.

“Oh, I see.” Rafe nodded thoughtfully. “I was just…well, back home a fella usually just goes after a varmint like that himself, you know. He doesn’t need a whole bunch of folks helping him.”

The squire bridled a little at his words. “Well, of course, I don’t need help. It’s, well, that’s the way it’s done.”

“Oh. Well, sure.” Rafe glanced around. “Thing is…I think the other side got tired of waiting.”

He turned and looked significantly at the bush in front of which the twins stood. The boys turned to look, too, then stepped aside, grinning. The small red fox that had been hiding beneath the bush was gone.

“Bloody hell!” the squire exclaimed. He glared at Kyria. “Your father will hear from me.”

“I am sure he will be happy to discuss the matter with you.”

He shook his riding crop toward the twins one last time, saying, “They should have leashes on them!” He turned and stomped off back to his horse.

Kyria sighed, watching her neighbor stalk away. Rafe cast her a glance, one eyebrow raised.

“So,” he said slowly, “tell me, is this what you’d call a typical day around here?”

Kyria had to chuckle. “Unfortunately, it is more often than not.”

She swung around to face the twins, who hurried up to her and Rafe, agog with interest.

“What a cunning gun!” Alex exclaimed. “May I look at it? Please?”

Rafe held it out in the palm of his hand. “Yes, but you can’t touch it. It’s loaded. When we get back to the house, I’ll unload and clean it and let you look at it.”

“Will you?” Alex grinned. “That would be ever so good of you.”

“It’s so small!” Con said, peering at it. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s called a derringer. The aim’s no good. You can only use it close up, but it’s handy to carry.”

“I must say,” Kyria interrupted crossly, “you two boys certainly have a ghoulish interest in guns for people who are so concerned about the squire hunting that miserable fox.”

“It’s not the same thing!” Con protested. “They are only killing that poor fox for sport. Theo says that a
gun
is a necessity.”

“No doubt it is when you are in the wilds of Australia, as Theo was,” Kyria said. “That’s not the point, anyway. The point is—why did you have to do this? This week of all times?”

Con shrugged, but Alex replied seriously, “Actually, it seemed to me that this week would have the most impact. After all, it is the biggest and most important hunt the squire is likely to have, what with our guests being here, too.”