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Authors: Mary Blayney

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Courtesan's Kiss
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She did not lean out the window so he came closer to hear her latest demand.

“My lord, the coachman must be allowed to drive more slowly. My maid is unwell.”

“He will drive at the usual pace or we will arrive in the dark.”

“No! There is a full moon and two grooms besides you to protect us.”

David heard the maid moaning. He could see that the servant rested her head in Miss Castellano’s lap while her mistress waved a fan to cool her. These two behaved more like sisters than maid and mistress.

“My lord, if we move as fast as you would like then the inside of the carriage will not be fit for travel.”

“We will stop a moment after we ford the stream.”

With a nod to John Coachman, who had heard the conversation, David rode ahead to test the ford.

Miss Castellano must have learned her peculiar attitude toward servants from her guardian.

It had taken them all a while to realize that the new duchess truly cared about the servants’ wives and children, and whether the basket weighed too much to carry easily or the schedule for beating the rugs rushed them too much. Even the duke called it unconventional.

David put Mia Castellano out of his mind, or at least banished her to a quiet corner, and gave the ford and his horse his complete attention.

Cruces made his way across the natural ford without hesitation. The horse stepped onto the bank and responded instantly when David urged him back into the water.

David stopped to speak to the coachman, well aware that Miss Castellano was leaning out the window so she would not miss a word.

“The only spot that is less than calm is about five yards before the opposite bank,” he called out.

“Aye, my lord,” John Coachman said. “I remember it from the crossing coming south. A right bit higher the water was and still the horses had no complaint.”

“The bigger problem is the underwater moss—algae, my brother Gabriel would call it. Whatever the word, it will be slippery and I do not think you can avoid it. It’s in the shade right where the ford ends.”

“Aye.” The coachman climbed down from his seat and went back to talk to the grooms.

Lord David rode up to the coach door.

“Will it be dangerous?” Miss Castellano asked, as though it were her fondest wish.

“Not really, but in the interests of safety I will take you across with me on my horse. I do not expect any mishap, but you are too valuable to risk.”

“Nonsense.” She pushed open the door and stood on the edge. “If you truly were concerned for items of value, you would take my trunks with you. I would be desolate if they were lost.”

He had no time for her version of flirting. He would
not beg her to let him carry her across. Touching her at all was unwise.

She waited for one of the grooms to lower the steps and announced, “I want to ride on top while we cross the river. It will be much more fun that way.”

“You cannot. There is no way for you to climb up to the seat. And I will not lift you.” He should never have phrased it that way. David knew it the minute the words left his mouth.

“Of course I can do it.” She laughed at his concern. Pulling her skirts up to a most unladylike height above her ankles, Miss Castellano climbed, with casual grace, up into the driver’s seat, then straightened her skirts and sat with the demeanor of a grand dame.

“Cor, look at that,” one of the grooms said to the other. “I never even seen circus women who could move like that.”

Lord David turned his head and stared at the boy who had spoken. He did not have to say a word for the two grooms to be reminded of their positions. The young men hurried to their spots at the back of the carriage where they would see nothing of the crossing, only the trunks stored between them and the riding compartment.

The boy was right, David thought, as he rode around the carriage, inspecting the wheels and the frame of the conveyance. Not about the show of ankle so much as her amazing agility. That made the mind wander.

As he came up to the driver’s box he noticed that she had put her hat on, ruined as it was. Still, the light breeze caught her curls, their color between brown and gold. She
did not seem to mind the disarray of either her hair or her hat. He watched as she pressed her lips together, barely able to contain her excitement.

“My lord, you must smile more. You look so much friendlier when you do.”

David bit back his smile. He didn’t want her to see him as anything more than an irritated protector. “Sit still. Do not distract the driver. Listen to me. The river is higher than usual but it should be an uneventful crossing.”

She nodded, pretending to be as serious as he was. But he could see the devilment in her eyes.

“If you do anything to upset the crossing you will have to fend for yourself.”

She nodded, her eyes growing more severe. “I am not a fool, Lord David. I think you prefer to take the fun out of everything. This may not be dangerous but it will be an adventure. Stop trying to spoil it.”

“If it were dangerous or if I trusted John Coachman less I would drag you from that seat no matter what you wished.”

I’d like to see you try
. She did not have to say the words; her expression spoke volumes.

“Now you look like a petulant schoolgirl.”

She gave him that look from beneath her lashes that made him think she might welcome a masterful hand. But only on her terms. If he tried to total the number of times she had said “No” on this trip, David expected he would lose count somewhere in the hundreds.

He gave her a discouraging scowl, aimed as much at his thoughts as at her. Falling in behind the conveyance,
he stayed on the right side where he could see if she caused any trouble or panicked. Though he did not think her flaws included panic, not when she so valued “adventure.”

The coachman set out slowly. Mia turned her head this way and that, looking down into the water as if trying to find fish, stretching out a little, apparently to watch the horses’ footing.

All went well and David breathed a sigh of relief—a moment too soon. The back right wheel caught the moss just as the horses pulled up onto dry land. He watched, powerless, as the wheel slid into the water, coming to rest at an awkward angle.

At his nudge, Cruces stepped into the deeper water, so David could circle the carriage and take a good look at their predicament. He stared at it, ignoring the cries and commotion from the others. It would require brute strength to right the carriage without upset, but on the list of possible disasters it ranked fairly low.

First he faced a bigger challenge, figuring out how to calm a hysterical woman.

Chapter Four

“I
O VADO A MORIRE,”
a woman’s voice wailed. David recognized it as the maid’s and then heard her mistress’s irritation as she called down to her, “You will not die, Janina. Be quiet.”

None of them needed the maid’s cry as a call to action. When the carriage jerked as the wheel slipped off the moss, the grooms knew exactly what had happened.

David dismounted as well, after checking on Miss Castellano, whose only sign of distress was the way she gripped the side rail of the box. He gave a moment’s thought to taking her to safety but decided against it for at least three reasons, only one of them truly practical: The more strength they had pushing the conveyance the less likely any sort of rescue would be necessary.

David joined the grooms along the right side of the carriage and pushed up as John Coachman urged the
horses. The water felt numbingly cold but strength brought on by need helped him ignore the discomfort.

They struggled with the back of the coach and for a moment David feared the wheel would not set back on the ford shelf.

“I don’t think—” one of the grooms began, huffing the words out with short breaths.

“Push,” David spat, refusing to allow the groom’s doubt. The carriage hit dry land a moment later, the two grooms and David none the worse despite trousers wet to the knees.

“What an excellent piece of teamwork,” Miss Castellano called out, applauding as she spoke. “You are a fine driver, sir,” she added to the coachman with one of her brilliant smiles. “I felt as safe as if I were in a chair in my own home.”

“Thankee, miss.” He blushed hard and Lord David wondered what Miss Castellano would do with this latest conquest.

No wonder Lord William had grown tired of her behavior. She flirted with every man she met, no matter his age or state in life. Praise and smiles won them over every time.

“Lift me down, Lord David,” she called out to him, even though he had begun to move ahead.

“No,” he called over his shoulder and rode on, out of sight of her amused pout and out of hearing range of her laughter.

I
F HE THOUGHT
his use of her favorite word would upset her, then Lord David Pennistan was much mistaken. Mia wanted to keep her place on top of the coach, but thought she should see how Janina had weathered the crossing.

“Do not climb down, signorina.” Janina leaned out the window, her face rather more pale than before. “Stay up there, if you please. I would prefer to be alone.”

“All right. It is not much farther and then you can go to bed.”

“Grazie,”
the maid said as she disappeared back inside.

Mia felt selfish but her seat in the driver’s box was too entertaining to abandon when she really could not help Janina. She decided she would make sure that her sister had a bed of her own at the inn.

Mia loved the fresh air and the expanded view from the coachman’s seat. Why did anyone sit inside when they could be up here and watch the world of nature parade by? The trees and shrubbery, the birdsong and the small animals were far better company than the velvet squabs and ticking carriage clock.

She supposed it would cause some raised eyebrows when they reached the inn. She would pretend that she would have been sick if she rode inside. Or she could say that the inside of the conveyance felt wet after they crossed the ford. Everyone would understand that she wanted to avoid a chill.

Or she could convince John Coachman to make it look as if she had cajoled him into allowing her to handle
the reins. No, that would not do at all. To be driving such a team would show a shocking lack of feminine grace.

By the time they reached the inn just outside of Worcester hours later, fatigue made her bones ache. Mia felt so road weary that she did not care what people thought. The sun had set, and the last light faded as they came into the empty stable yard.

Most likely they were the last to arrive this evening. Light poured from every window, and Mia assumed any number of travelers had arrived ahead of them, headed home from the London Season.

Lord David had arranged for a private parlor and told her that a cold dinner awaited them as soon as she found her room and freshened up. At her request, he asked for another room for her maid, but reported back that the inn had no extra beds available.

Mia was surprised but appreciative when Lord David gave Janina his arm. She did need help with the stairs; her knees barely supported her. Mia hurried ahead, her energy renewed by the obvious comfort of the inn.

At the top of the steps she all but ran into Lord Belfort and his wife. Newly married, the two were bickering; Mia could tell by the tone of their voices.

“Good evening, my lady.” Mia curtsied in greeting. The Belforts, Lady Belfort especially, looked startled, and Lady Belfort drew next to her husband, their squabble apparently forgotten at the sight of a friend from last Season. Though Mia would not call Lorraine Belfort’s brief curtsy welcoming.

Mia gave them her most gracious smile, determined
to test the depth of their lack of sympathy. “Lord David Pennistan is escorting me to his brother and my guardian, the Duke and Duchess of Meryon.”

Mia added the titles, in case they had forgotten that she had friends in high places. “Lord David has secured a large parlor for my use. I would love it if you would join me for dinner.”

Lord Belfort nodded but his wife put a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Miss Castellano, but we have our own room and would prefer to dine alone.” Lady Belfort swept by her, down the stairs, leaving her husband looking slightly apologetic as he followed.

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