Julia Justiss (18 page)

“Ah, so she purchased a horse, then?”

“Aye, sir. The auction folks brung him by late yesterday. Rather a handful fer a lady, I’d a’ said, iff’n anyone was to ’av asked me.”

Though Adam had intended to return to the solicitor’s office, the groom’s remarks made him uneasy. Lady Darnell had told him Dix had offered to help Helena find a mount. Adam had been happy she would have Dix’s expert opinion—even though he could not rid himself of the tiny nugget of resentment that Dix could escort Helena as often as he wished, actively pursuing his acquaintance with this intriguing lady, while Adam had to keep his distance.

Though he’d certainly failed to do so during that episode in the library. He’d thought he’d succeeded in
armoring himself against the attraction that always sparked between them. He’d resisted her looking like a goddess in her gold dress, had even steeled himself to suggest her to Nathan as a possible match. So how had she broken through his defenses?

Perhaps it had been the scare her flight from the ballroom had given him. Or the aftermath of the almost uncontrollable rage that had burned in him at the possibility that some man had frightened or imposed upon her. Or perhaps the compassion he’d felt at seeing her in distress, or the satisfaction he’d experienced at being her rescuer, had lured him into letting down his guard.

Whatever breached his hold over it, when they reached the library, elder-brother concern had been swamped by desire, his mind overcome by memories of her garbed in white silk, lounging on his sofa, her sensuality calling to him like a siren’s. Nay, ’twas worse this time, for while that first night she had been surprised and hesitant, this time she had seemed to respond to the heat in him, leaning up for the kiss he’d almost been mesmerized enough to offer.

Ah, yes, she’d appeared eager to explore the desire she incited. But it was not for him to initiate her into passion’s embrace. He shook his head and shuddered at how close he’d come to dragging an innocent into scandal—his guest, a girl he was supposed to be protecting! Far better that Dix choose her horses, Nathan escort her to parties, Charis and his stepmother keep her company. Lest honor prove too fragile a curb on an attraction that had just shown him how unexpectedly it could flame out of control.

Still, she was in his care. If his groom, whose knowledge of horses he trusted, disapproved of the one she’d bought, he ought to check on her. Surely, he thought with a touch of disgust, in broad daylight in the park he’d manage to keep his appetites under control.

Leaping into the saddle, Adam set off for the park.

It was early enough that Hyde Park was virtually deserted when he guided his horse through the gates. After scanning the carriageway and seeing no one, he set off down Rotten Row. At the crest of the first hill, he spied a rider in the distance. A rider in a scarlet habit poised sidesaddle on a huge black horse, a description that proclaimed her identity even before he saw Dix’s chestnut gelding trotting beside her.

Anxiety mounting, Adam kicked his horse to a canter and went in pursuit. Just as he reached them, the skittish black, apparently spooked at hearing a horse approaching from behind him, veered sideways off the path and reared up, trying to unseat his rider.

Fear chilled his blood and a cry of warning caught in his throat. He watched in horror as Miss Lambarth fell backward, expecting at any moment to see her tumble beneath the dancing hoofs of her mount. But in the next instant he realized that, rather than being tossed to the ground or grabbing in panic at reins and saddle, Miss Lambarth had purposely thrown her head back—laughing.

“Excellent, my beauty,” she cried, and then must have commanded the horse to repeat the trick, for in the next moment he rose up again, forelegs pawing the air.

Adam realized that, far from being carried off, Miss Lambarth was in complete control of her mount. And what a spectacle they presented! The rearing black horse, the scarlet-clad woman riding him so easily the two seemed almost to merge into one, like an ancient pagan deity. The feral excitement of the two half-wild beings crackled in the air.

The elemental attraction Helena exuded washed over Adam in a powerful wave that stood every hair on end, dried the breath in his throat and engulfed him in an irresistible urge to tame and possess.

“Magnificent, isn’t he?” Miss Lambarth exclaimed, her eyes bright and her smile brilliant as she settled the horse back on four hoofs. “I just had to see if he would rear on command. Now for a gallop!” At the tap of her whip and the urging of her heels, the horse wheeled and exploded into a run.

When Adam managed to tear his gaze away from the racing horse and scarlet-clad rider to look over at Dix, his friend was still staring fixedly at Miss Lambarth, apparently oblivious to Adam’s arrival. Mirrored on Dix’s face Adam saw the same awe and lust still churning in his own breast.

A primal, instinctive jealousy fired him to rage. “Hell and the devil, Dix, have you lost your wits? Whatever possessed you to allow Miss Lambarth to buy such a horse? I thought she was about to be trampled!”

Startled, his best friend whipped his attention over to Adam. Strong emotion must still be roiling in him, as well, for his normally easygoing face turned hostile.

“But, you notice, she was
not
trampled,” he re
sponded. “In fact she handled the horse as well as you or I would have, and better than any woman I know. Despite that, I did everything in my power to prevent her buying Pegasus.”

“Pegasus? The beast should be named Charon, since he looks apt to ferry her straight to Hades! And I note how successfully you dissuaded her. Heavens, man, her dress makes her singular enough. Do you not realize that making a spectacle of herself on that beast, as intriguing as you may find it, could tarnish her reputation? If you have so little regard for protecting her good name, I shall have to forbid your escorting her!”

“She would command attention regardless of her mount. Galloping a flashy beast in the park will not harm her reputation as much as bidding for the horse at Tattersalls, which, I assure you, she threatened to do if I refused to bargain for her. Besides—” Dix eyed him narrowly “—I suspect you enjoyed that ‘spectacle’ quite as much as I. There’s something about her that wraps a fist about a man’s throat so he can scarcely breathe.” Dix shook his head. “I may have to marry her before she drives me crazy.”

“Maybe you need to stay away from her,” Adam retorted.

“Maybe you need to take your own advice,” Dix flashed back. “I’ve seen how you look at her. At least I’m free to act. May I remind you that you’re engaged? I suggest that you hie yourself back to your fiancée and stop trying to put blocks in the path of those who value Miss Lambarth as much for her spirit as for her…passionate beauty.”

At that moment Helena came galloping back and pulled up the black beside them. Cheeks flushed from the wind, eyes alight, she once again exuded a sensual allure that tightened Adam’s chest and sped his pulse.

“What cowards they are, Pegasus,” she said, patting the horse’s lathered neck. “They didn’t even try to catch us. But you see,” she continued, looking over to the men, “he will be quite docile now. He needs to run, not be shut up in a box stall for days on end.”

Still glowing, she turned to Dix. “I can’t thank you enough for obtaining him, Mr. Dixon. Darnell, I hope you’ve not been taking Mr. Dixon to task for purchasing me such a spirited mount. As you have seen, I have no trouble managing him. Indeed, we understand each other perfectly.”

Before Adam could reply, after a pointed look at him, Dix said, “No, we’ve just been agreeing that the two of you create…an arresting picture. But so appealing, I hope you will allow me to ride with you every time you go out, to keep the importunate from bothering you.”

She laughed. “Stuff! No one could catch us anyway! Though, if you choose to ride early enough, Mr. Dixon, I shall be pleased to have your escort. Now, let’s have an easy canter to cool Pegasus down before any more riders arrive in the park. You will accompany us, Darnell?”

“No, Miss Lambarth. I was on my way to my solicitor’s and just happened by. I shall leave you in Mr. Dixon’s—” he gritted his teeth over the word “—capable care.”

After exchanging a curt nod with his friend, Adam wheeled his mount and headed out of the park. Dix’s sharp words stung, all the more so because they were true. Adam
did
desire her. In fact, so jealous and furious had lust rendered him, it had taken all his control and breeding to cede her escort to Dix and ride out of the park.

Hie himself back to his fiancée, indeed! Thank heavens Miss Standish did not rouse him to such uncomfortable excesses of emotion. Riding a firestorm from anger to lust to jealousy and back would not be a comfortable way to live. Much better to have a wife whom one respected and admired, who inspired one with more temperate emotions.

Or was the fact that Miss Lambarth could spark in him feelings—both lust and respect—so much more intense than those roused by his fiancée a warning that he might have been too precipitous in his choice?

Had his engagement to Priscilla been a mistake?

Shocked and dismayed by the thought, Adam’s mind fled from that conclusion. Since his engagement was a fait accompli and could not be broken, there was no point pursuing such reflections, he told himself firmly. He would leave Miss Lambarth to Dix and fix his thoughts on the business that took him to his solicitors.

Forcing himself to begin mentally reviewing reports on acreage and yields, he absently directed his horse toward the City. But that awful snippet of doubt, like a burr on a saddle blanket, stuck at the back of his mind and refused to be dislodged.

I
N THE LATE EVENING
ten days later, Helena sat on the sofa before the library fire, reading—or rather, attempting to read. An edgy restlessness had made it nearly impossible for her to keep her mind on the story. After realizing she’d just looked over the same Greek phrase a fifth time, she gave up and put aside the book.

She poured herself a glass of wine, but the warming liquid worked no better than the book in quelling the sensation that made her feel like a caged beast.

So anxious was she for fresh air and activity, she’d almost agreed to accompany Charis and Aunt Lillian to the ball tonight. But stifling in noisy, overcrowded rooms would not banish the agitation that drove her to spring up and pace the library.

Even at the musicales she was ringed about by too many people. The desire for freedom and solitude had become an almost physical ache. How she yearned to go out all alone, as she had roamed through the night forests of Lambarth!

Small chance of that. It seemed that a gently bred girl could not step out her front door unaccompanied.
Her aunt insisted that if she wished to go anywhere, she take the carriage along with Nell and a footman.

She had hoped riding Pegasus would quell the sense of being trapped that had grown more acute with every day she spent in London. But though she had a wonderful mount to gallop, she’d found that even when leaving at dawn, she was required to bring along a groom, whose presence precluded going off afterward to explore the city. And once it become known that she went early to the park, she began encountering not just Mr. Dixon, but a crowd of other men.

Some were bold enough to call at the house, though her blatant indifference discouraged all but the most persistent—notably Dixon and Lord Blanchard. Both stopped by almost daily, but having quickly noted how often the diplomat’s glance strayed from her to rest on Charis, Helena was quite sure Blanchard didn’t come to see
her.

When she’d teased Charis about their caller, her friend had replied with a sigh that Helena must be mistaken. Blanchard’s duty required him to wed a woman of wealth, and he was too noble and courteous to raise hopes he would be unable to fulfill. Charis had then quickly turned the subject, leaving Helena unable to determine the exact depth of her friend’s feeling for the handsome diplomat.

Though she might not be certain of Charis’s thoughts on matrimony, she was still certain of her own. But despite her boycott of balls and refusal to attend Almack’s, it seemed the ton had not been persuaded that she had no intention of bestowing her hand—and the fortune she reportedly possessed—on
some persistent suitor. At the few Society functions she did attend, she found herself thronged by single gentlemen, from callow lads just out of Oxford whose downy chins had scarce seen a razor to bewhiskered widowers on the catch for a rich new wife.

She could only imagine it was the challenge of a woman who dressed to please herself and turned up her nose at matrimony that continued to capture their attention.

Or perhaps, she mused, whatever it was about her that brought the lustful looks to their faces—and Darnell’s.

She paused by the hearth, its heat recalling the maelstrom of sensations Adam inspired in her. A memory that did nothing to soothe her agitation.

Oh, to have been born a man, who might go anywhere at any time of day or night! From exclusive clubs to gaming hells and brothels, all of London was accessible to them. Whereas a lady couldn’t even inquire about, much less explore, such places.

Places a girl might learn the secrets of desire.

Her pacing having produced no results, Helena decided to slip down to the kitchen. Perhaps a bit of Cook’s good ham would calm her enough that she could sleep.

She moved silently down the service stairs into the kitchen, where the banked fire and a lantern turned low beside a dozing footman provided a fitful illumination. She was about to enter the larder when a stealthy scratching sound at the door made her freeze.

Slowly she backed to the wall, reaching as she re
treated for the homemade dagger she kept tied to her leg. She had the knife drawn and ready to strike when the kitchen door opened and a small figure crept in.

Dickon! Relief and amusement filled her. Nell or Harrison would likely provide the boy a close acquaintance with a leather belt, were they to discover him sneaking back in the middle of the night. What had he been up to?

Helena waited until the boy, his eyes on the sleeping footman, was abreast of her. Then she sprang out, pinching his nose closed with one hand and applying pressure with the thumb of her other hand to the vulnerable spot beneath his windpipe, as Mad Sally had taught her. With him incapacitated, she whispered in his ear, “Hush! It’s Miss Helena. Come with me to my chamber.”

She held the boy until she was sure he understood her command before releasing him. Hand to his throat, he silently followed Helena up to her room.

Safely within, she turned to face Dickon. “What were you thinking, creeping about like that? If Charles had awakened, Harrison and Nell both would have your hide!”

“Charles don’t never rouse. When he’s on duty, I can always get out and back with no one the wiser.”

“So you’ve done this before?”

Realizing his mistake, Dickon tried at first to deny it, but at length admitted that, in the past few weeks, he’d slipped out frequently.

“And what do you do out there?”

“Meet up with me workhouse mates and go for a
taste of blue ruin and some cards. Maybe earn a copper standing outside where toffs are having their to-dos, holding their horses.” He shuffled nervously. “You ain’t going to turn me in to Nell or Mr. Harrison, are you?”

Helena’s reflection that Nell had been wise to try to remove Dickon from the influence of St. Marylebone was swiftly succeeded by a more exciting idea.

“I really should tell Nell. But perhaps I shall keep your secret…if you agree to help me.”

“Anything, miss!” Dickon said eagerly.

“First you must obtain me some boy’s clothing. Then I want you to take me to some of the places you go.”

Dickon stared at her. “In the middle of the night, with you dressed as a lad? You’re mad, Miss! I couldn’t never do such a thing!”

“You needn’t bring me to play cards or drink with your mates, where my chances of being found out are greater. I just want to be able to walk alone, without a maid and footmen on my heels. Watch where gentlemen go, observe what they do. What safer way than to dress as a lad—who goes everywhere and attracts the attention of no one?”

“But them streets ain’t safe by half, even for such as me,” he objected. “There be some very bad men about!”

“We shall avoid the most dangerous areas. I can’t imagine the cutpurses working the crowds by the theaters would bother us. If the worst occurs, I have my knife and can use it. I did well enough tonight, didn’t I?”

“Maybe,” Dickon said, rubbing his throat where her thumb had pressed. “But I still can’t help you. Nell and Mr. Harrison would have my head iff’n they found out.”

“They’d be scarcely more happy if I tell them you’ve been sneaking out. At the least, Nell would insist you promise not to do so again. Whereas, if you agree to take me, you may keep on with your excursions. I shall expire if I cannot escape the house and explore without the baggage of petticoats, maids and footmen! Didn’t I stand up for you and Nell with Lord Darnell?”

“Aye, you did, and right grateful I am.” Continuing to rub his throat, Dickon studied her, as if trying to judge how desperate she was—and therefore how likely to tell on him if he refused her request.

“What’s to stop you from ratting later, once you’ve had your fill of exploring?”

“Ah, but I couldn’t, for if I revealed your wanderings, you could reveal mine. I wouldn’t wish to distress Lady Darnell by having her learn of them any more than you want Nell to know of yours. So your secret would be safe, safer than it is now,” she pressed. “Even if I agreed now not to tell Nell, with nothing at stake for me, I might inadvertently let something slip later.”

“I expect Lord Darnell would pack you off to a nunnery if he was to learn you’d done something so outlandish.”

“Exactly. So, Dickon, what shall it be? More adventures? Or a word in Nell’s ear and restriction to the house forever?”

Dickon eyed her resentfully. “You don’t give me much choice, do you, miss?”

“Excellent!” Helena cried. “Can you have the clothes by tomorrow night? Miss Charis and Lady Darnell are to attend another ball, and Darnell of course is escorting his fiancée, so they will all be out until very late.”

Though Dickon agreed to her plan with far less enthusiasm than she felt, before she dismissed him he agreed to smuggle the clothing to her, then meet her at midnight inside the chamber overlooking the garden.

From where, Helena thought exultantly, they could easily descend, by way of the sturdy tree branch she’d already discovered, into the garden and out the side gate she’d used for her excursion with Molly. Their chances of discovery under cover of night were slim.

Though there had been wolves and the occasional poacher, Lambarth’s woods at night had held few perils. London was much more dangerous, but as she’d assured Dickon, she intended to be very cautious. But to compensate for the risk, she would have the joy of being truly free, almost on her own, and able to explore the vast city beyond the drawing rooms of Mayfair.

Helena had not felt such excitement since, full of anticipation, she had boarded the mail coach for London.

T
HE FOLLOWING DAY
, after spending the evening pacing the library until it was late enough for Nell and the other servants to be abed, Helena returned to her room to don the boy’s clothes Dickon had smuggled to her.

So anxious had she been to set out on her adventure, she’d had great difficulty masking her enthusiasm—or her impatience for the ladies to leave. After both Charis
and Aunt Lillian remarked at dinner how agitated she seemed, Helena was forced to voice a fervent desire to return to the Greek work she was currently translating that rather exceeded her actual appreciation for the text.

She dressed herself quickly and slipped down the hallway into the guest chamber overlooking the garden. Moments later a soft knock heralded Dickon’s arrival. After rebutting with as much patience as she could muster his last attempts to dissuade her from the excursion, she opened the chamber window, clambered onto the nearby branch and bid him follow.

“Cor!” Dickon whispered after they had made it safely to the ground and through the hidden side gate. “You be right good at tree climbing!”

“I never imagined how much easier it would be, un-hampered by petticoats.” Helena chuckled. “If ladies ever discovered how much more serviceable breeches are, they would never again wear skirts! Now, I should first like to visit a tavern, the sort where common folk go.”

“Whyever for, miss? It ain’t like you was wanting to drink blue ruin and play cards.”

“But I do wish to taste it. Although I expect it would be best for me not to linger long enough for a game of cards. Where do you usually go?”

Dickon sighed. “There’s a place not far—Fancy Jim’s. ’Tis a hell where some of the gents go to play and drink deep. I expect you’ll be safe enough if you stay out in the stable yard with my mates.”

“Excellent! Let us go at once.”

With the clip-clop of passing horses and vehicles, the occasional illumination from streetlamps and carriage lamps, Helena found London at night to be neither as quiet nor as dark as Lambarth’s woods. Proceeding on foot allowed her to pause and inspect the house and shopfronts that interested her while Dickon looked on patiently and attempted to answer her avid inquiries.

Enjoying herself immensely, Helena was happy to remain in the stable yard of Fancy Jim’s, where Dickon introduced her as the “new boy” at his master’s house. Listening silently to the lads’ banter, some of it delivered in a cant she could barely comprehend, she waited while Dickon went inside to procure them some drink.

She quickly found blue ruin not at all to her taste. Much to Dickon’s consternation—and the amusement of his friends—she spat out the mouthful she’d taken, pronouncing it “nasty stuff,” and dumped the rest onto the cobblestones before Dickon could stop her.

Once her guide finished quaffing his own mug, they set off again, Helena proposing they continue to St. James Street. As it was the site of several famous gentlemen’s clubs, she explained, Aunt Lillian told her ladies were not permitted to stroll there. “I should like to observe the clubs from the outside, perhaps discover what about them engenders in gentlemen such a fascination and loyalty.”

“No secret to it,” Dickon replied. “They got good victuals, high-stakes cards, fine port—and no females to make a fuss about ’em. Now, miss, it ain’t a good idea to go there. Seein’ as how some of the toffs ’ve seen me at the house, I might be recognized.”

“We won’t stay long and you can stand in the shadows,” Helena countered, already setting out in that direction.

Running after her, Dickon muttered a curse on all women and their unreasonable ways.

Surprised to find how close together the two most famous establishments were located, Helena lingered first outside Brook’s, where the chat among the arriving and departing gentleman seemed to concern mostly corn bills, enclosures and the excesses of the Prince Regent. She then crossed the street and sauntered toward White’s. From the bits she overhead here, it appeared this clientele concerned itself more with gaming and gossip.