Grasso, Patricia (11 page)

Richard raised his brows at her impertinence. "I live here. Remember?"

"No, you live—" Keely cringed inside at her outrageously rude behavior.

"Over there," he supplied, gesturing to the adjacent estate.

"His Grace is inside," she said.

"His Grace?" Richard cocked a brow at her. "So formal a title for your own father?"

Discouraging further conversation, Keely turned her head away and feigned disinterest, but her heart pounded frantically within her breast. The earl presented a threat to her cousins, but Keely was worried for her own peace of mind at the moment. His male beauty nearly blinded her. A woman could cheerfully drown in the fathomless pools of green that were his eyes.

"When we met at the tavern," Richard asked, "why didn't you tell me Ludlow was your father?"

"I considered my father's identity no business of yours," Keely replied without bothering to look at him. With luck, he'd go away.

"My lord," Richard said, lifting one booted foot and resting it beside her on the bench.

"What?" Keely snapped her head around and nearly swooned at the incredible sight of his well-muscled leg and thigh perched so disconcertingly close to her.

"You should have said, "'Twas no business of yours,
my lord,'"

"You may be
a
lord," Keely told him, "but you aren't
my
lord."

If she hadn't been speaking so impertinently to him, Richard would have applauded her spirited wit. After all, few men at the Tudor court dared speak to the queen's favorite in that rude manner.

Instead of becoming angry as he knew she expected, Richard smiled benignly. "I've brought you a welcoming gift," he said. He offered her the single perfect orchid that he held in his hand.

Keely gave him a bewildered smile and reached for it. When their fingers touched, an unfamiliar but wholly exciting sensation raced throughout her body. It was gone in an instant.

Surprised by his kindness, Keely stared at the orchid. No man had ever given her such a wonderful gift as a perfect flower. With the exception of her brother and cousins, no man had ever given her any gift. She'd never even had a suitor. Madoc's hatred of her served to discourage those who might be interested. Besides, no man would marry her without a dowry, and everyone knew her stepfather had no intention of offering one.

" 'Tis beautiful. Please forgive my bad manners," Keely apologized, feeling churlish. "Your sudden appearance frightened me."

"Then you must forgive me," Richard replied, his voice a soft caress. "Never would I intentionally frighten or hurt you in any way."

His words did nothing to calm her fears. Keely couldn't seem to drag her gaze away from his. A thousand airy butterflies took wing in the pit of her stomach, and her hands in her lap trembled.

"I always thought only Englishmen and Madoc behaved rudely," Keely remarked, unaware of the insult she'd leveled on him. "I see that I carry that flaw inside me."

"Who is Madoc?" Richard asked, cocking a brow at her.

"My stepfather." Keely bit her bottom lip for a long moment. "Would you care to sit with me?" she finally invited him.

Richard gave her an easy smile and sat down beside her, so close his thigh teased her gown. The lady was definitely attracted, Richard concluded, but nervous because of her cousins. Somehow, he'd have to get around the fact that those two blockheads robbed him in Shropshire.

What the bloody hell was he thinking?
Richard frowned ferociously. He'd been the innocent victim, not the damned perpetrator of that crime!

"Is—is something wrong?" Keely asked in a small voice.

Richard gave himself a mental shake, then took her hand in his and kissed its sensitive palm. "You look especially lovely today, my lady," he complimented her.

Keely blushed and cast him an ambiguous smile.

Was she shy?
Richard wondered.
Or sly?

His gaze dropped to the gentle swell of her breasts above the low-cut bodice of the gown. When his eyes lifted to hers, she looked disgruntled. A man would have had to be blind to miss the displeasure stamped across her delicate features.

Richard had the good grace to flush, though amusement lit his eyes and made them glitter like emeralds. Never had he met a woman with such modesty. Even the queen's virginal maids-of-honor were less restrained than this beauty.

"I was admiring your dragon pendant," he lied. "A most unusual piece."

Keely's expression cleared. She touched the pendant and said, " 'Tis my mother's legacy to me."

Holding her gaze captive with his own, Richard purposefully pasted his best smoldering look on his face. He knew how effective that particular expression was with women.

Keely felt a melting sensation in the pit of her stomach. Within mere seconds the simmering heat became a raging boil, but her instinct for survival surfaced quickly. Keely tore her gaze from his and remarked, "How lovely the trees dress in autumn, especially the oaks. You know, they're powerful huggers."

"I beg your pardon?" Richard couldn't credit what he'd heard.

"I—I was admiring His Grace's garden," Keely explained, too late realizing what she'd almost revealed about herself.

"You have the most delightful accent," Richard said.

"You're the one with the accent," Keely differed, giving him an unconsciously flirtatious smile.

"We English have a phrase that best describes you Welsh," Richard said, returning her smile.
"Daffy taffy."

Keely lost her smile, and one perfectly arched ebony brow shot up in a perfect imitation of
his
irritating habit. "We Welsh have a term that best describes English halfwits like you—
gifted."

Richard shouted with laughter, not only at what she'd said but at her irreverent lack of regard for his august rank. Imagine, insulting the queen's favorite earl!

For her part, Keely could only stare at him. His good humor in the face of what she considered a devastating insult surprised her.

"I'm wounded," Richard said, his eyes sparkling with unmistakable merriment. "Your sharp tongue slices me to pieces."

"What a happy soul you are," Keely replied. "Finding humor in the most unlikely places."

"Dudley should hear this."

"Who?"

"Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester," Richard answered as if that explained it.

Keely stared at him blankly. "I've never heard of the man."

Richard gave her a lopsided grin. "I'm beginning to like you more and more."

"I like you too," Keely replied, her lack of guile a refreshing change from the women at court. "Could we perhaps be friends?"

Richard nodded. He wanted more than friendship from this beauty, but he was wise enough to keep that thought to himself. Richard knew with a predator's instinct that unlike the other ladies of his acquaintance, Keely would fly away in fright if he moved too quickly. Besides, he needed time to investigate her part in her cousins' crime against him.

Feigning nonchalance, Richard stretched his legs out and drew a brandy-colored stone from his pocket. He rolled it around in the palm of his hand and glanced sidelong at Keely.

"Unique, isn't it?" he remarked, catching her wide-eyed stare.

She nodded and looked away. "The carnelian stone protects its owner from harm. Where did you get it?"

"I found it in Shropshire and keep it for luck," Richard answered. Slyly, he added, "Your cousins—"

Keely visibly jerked into alertness, and Richard realized she knew about the robbery. Before or after the fact? he wondered.

"Your cousins seem vaguely familiar," he went on. "Yet I cannot place where I've seen them."

"My cousins rode with me from Wales," Keely replied. "I'm sure you never saw them before that night at the tavern."

Richard smiled, nodded, and dropped the subject. He didn't want her thinking that he recognized her cousins. "Since you're newly arrived in England, please let me take you on a tour of London's most interesting sights."

"Without a chaperon, that would be improper," she objected.

Richard raised her hand to his lips. He gazed into her violet eyes and said in a husky voice, "Your beauty does incite me to impropriety."

His lips on her hand and his intimate words conspired against her. Keely was neatly caught by his disarming emerald gaze.

As a devastatingly lazy smile spread across his features, Richard moved closer, and slowly his mouth descended to claim her parted lips. Keely closed her eyes, and their lips touched in what would have been her very first kiss, but—

Honk! Honk! Honk!

Startled, both Richard and Keely leaped away from each other. She whirled around and saw a fat white goose with an orange beak waddling across the lawn toward them. Around its neck hung a gold collar inlaid with emeralds and diamonds. Lady Dawn, accompanied by two young boys, walked several yards behind the goose.

"Hello, Anthony," Richard called, then whispered out of the side of his mouth, "The countess's pet goose."

Keely stifled a giggle. "The goose is not for supper tonight?"

"Eat Anthony?" Lady Dawn cried. "Swallow your tongue, child!" She turned to her pages and ordered, "Bart and Jasper, return Anthony to his room."

As the boys led Anthony away, Richard stood and offered his seat to the countess. He bowed over Keely's hand, saying, "I look forward to our next meeting, my lady." His eyes promised her they'd begin exactly where they'd stopped.

"Sup with us this evening," Lady Dawn invited him.

"Unfortunately, I'm obligated to attend the queen," Richard refused. "Perhaps tomorrow?"

"You're always welcome at Talbot House." Lady Dawn drew Keely to her feet, saying, "The dressmaker is here to take your measurements, my dear. Tally is sparing no expense on your behalf."

"Enjoy your day," Richard said, turning away. He started across the lawn.

"The earl gifted me with this orchid," Keely told the countess.

Lady Dawn chuckled. "In the language of flowers, when a man gives a woman an orchid, he means to seduce her."

Staring at the earl's retreating back, Keely crimsoned with offended embarrassment. Richard chose that moment to turn around, sweep them a deep bow, and wink at Keely. Then he disappeared down the walk that led to his own estate.

"Nicely done," the countess complimented her. "Devereux will soon be eating from your hand. At least asking for it in marriage."

"Marriage?" Keely echoed in a shocked whisper.

"I do so love weddings," Lady Dawn drawled, hooking her arm through Keely's as they turned to the house. "I've been the bride three times already, but I will especially enjoy planning this one. The marriage of the decade, unless the queen decides to wed."

Holy stones! Keely thought in growing dismay. She'd only been at Talbot House for one confusing day. Already the earl had her bedded, and the countess had her wedded to him. How would she ever survive this land of eccentrics?

One hour at a time,
an inner voice whispered.
Or else you'll go mad within a week.

Chapter 5

Keely tossed and turned on the stormy seas of worry and awakened before dawn from the fitful sleep that had finally overtaken her. Autumn's chill nipped the air inside her chamber, but she ignored it. Instead of stoking the embers in the hearth, she wrapped herself in her white ceremonial robe and padded on bare feet across the chamber.

A steady rain drummed rhythmically against the window. Keely's head pounded in time with the beating of the rain. Worrying about Odo and Hew was literally making her sick. She couldn't live indefinitely with this danger threatening her cousins.

The earl knew he'd seen them somewhere. It was only a matter of time before he remembered the specifics.

Honesty is the best policy, Keely thought. The earl had said he'd never intentionally hurt her. Hanging Odo and Hew at Tyburn Hill would certainly cause her a great deal of pain. Should she confess to the earl and beg his mercy? What if he arrested her cousins? How could she live with that on her conscience? This was all her fault. If Odo and Hew hadn't been concerned for her welfare, they would never have resorted to robbery, would never even have journeyed to England.

Keely decided she would ask the Great Mother Goddess for guidance. If she envisioned a suitable ending to her confession, she would speak without delay to the earl.

Using her magic stones, Keely made a makeshift circle in the center of her chamber and left the western periphery open. She entered from the west and used her last stone to close the circle, saying, "All disturbing thoughts remain outside."

Keely fused the invisible periphery shut with her golden sickle and then turned in a clockwise circle three times until she faced the west again. She dropped to her knees, closed her eyes, focused her breathing, and touched her dragon pendant.

"The Old Ones are here, watching and waiting," Keely whispered. "Stars speak through stones, and light shines through the thickest oak. One realm is heaven and earth."

After pausing a moment to gather the proper emotion, Keely opened her arms and implored, "Spirit of my journey, guide me to hear what the trees say. Spirit of my ancestors, guide me to hear what the wind whispers. Spirit of my tribe, guide me to understand what the clouds foretell. Hearken, spirits, to my call. Open my heart that I may see beyond the horizon."

And then, it happened. Images floated across her mind's eye....

A warm room filled with books. An even warmer smile on the earl's face. The warmest feeling of security... strong, comforting arms. Welcoming arms. Protecting arms...

The image faded and dissolved into the reality of her bedchamber.

Opening her eyes, Keely touched her pendant and prayed, "I invoke the power of my mother's love, living inside this dragon, to protect me and mine. I thank the Goddess for passing her wisdom through me."

Keely walked to the western periphery, lifted the magic stone, and broke the enchanted circle. She removed her ceremonial robe and folded it, then went back to bed and yanked the quilt up to her chin.