Of Dukes and Deceptions (6 page)

“But the current owner is not similarly blessed. With intuitive horse sense, I mean?”

“It don’t seem so.”

“But what I don’t comprehend, Simon, is his need to involve me in the purchase of a new stallion. He must know I’ll only involve myself in return for a hefty share of the profits. Why place that sort of drain on the estate? It must be doing well enough for him to manage the purchase unaided, surely?”

“It ought to be. But Woodley’s wife and children have no sense of economy. As soon as they moved in, Mrs. Woodley ripped the interior of the place apart, even though there was nothing wrong with it. She threw out most of the furniture and started again. And Woodley indulges those girls of his, particularly the elder. Anything their hearts desire. They spend every season in town.”

“Well, I’ve never laid eyes on them before.”

“No, I don’t suppose you have. The girls haven’t been presented because…well, because they are not quite part of our set, if you follow my drift. They don’t have a suitable sponsor. But that doesn’t prevent them from hovering on the periphery of society, hoping to attract the attention of well-heeled beaus.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I can well imagine.”

“Taking a town house don’t come cheap. Plus that lad of theirs is a bit of a gamester and plays high. I hear his father has had to settle his debts on several occasions.”

“Shame Ravenswing Manor didn’t pass to Alicia Woodley. She appears to have inherited her father’s way with horses.”

Dawson chuckled. “Seen her riding that stallion of hers then, have you?”

“Indeed I have.” Nick shifted his position to conceal his reaction to the image this reminder conjured up. “I understand she has expectations of an inheritance.”

“Yes, the residue of her mother’s fortune.”

Nick raised a brow. She’d indicated that it was a trifling amount, but perhaps she didn’t know the exact sum involved. Either that or she rightly considered it to be nobody else’s business. Still, if she had financial expectations, it would account for Frederick’s sudden interest in her. Nick was more pleased than ever that she’d turned the cove down. He would make sure she wasn’t pressured into accepting him should he renew his suit. Someone had to protect the child’s best interests. She clearly felt a great sense of gratitude toward her family and such considerations might eventually sway her into accepting Frederick. Nick was surprised at the depth of his determination to prevent that from happening.

Stretching, he glanced at the long clock in the corner of the room and drained his glass. “It seems I’ve overstayed my welcome, Simon. But before I leave, are you sure there’s nothing more you can tell me about the situation at Ravenswing Manor?”

Dawson hesitated. “Well, nothing definite. I’ve heard one or two rumours but I hesitate to repeat them. They probably don’t have any foundation in fact.” He spread his hands. “You know how the smallest thing gets exaggerated in the retelling.”

“Yes, but even so, it might help me to decide if I want to invest. And you know you can depend upon my discretion.”

“Very well.”

Dawson spent the next ten minutes relating all he’d heard. The information, although rumour and speculation, so coincided with the suspicious thoughts running through Nick’s head that he was almost certain they must be true. The mulling over of this information between the two gentlemen took another half an hour, and by the time Nick was ready to take his leave, the sky had clouded over.

“Looks like we’re in for a storm, Nick,” Dawson said. “Sure you don’t want to stay the night?”

“No, I’d best get back. Is there a shorter way?”

“Yes, there’s a back road to the estate. Take the left-hand fork at the end of my drive and you’ll come directly upon it.”

His caped driving coat pulled tightly about him and his hat low on his head, Nick set off at a brisk canter. He was less than halfway to Ravenswing Manor when the heavens opened and, had it not been for his heavy coat, he would have been drenched in seconds. He slowed his pace and patted the neck of his sodden mount.

“I can see an outbuilding just ahead,” he told the horse. “We’ll take shelter there until the rain stops.”

But before he’d even reached the sanctity of the barn in question, he encountered an impediment.

“This is getting to be a habit,” Nick remarked to no one in particular.

He frowned. A very familiar female form, drenched to the skin, was seeking to remove a cob and the gig it was harnessed to from a muddy rut. Matilda appeared to be co-operating for once, clearly taking exception to getting soaked if she didn’t. But even the force of her considerable bulk was insufficient to free the conveyance.

Nick dismounted and went to Alicia’s assistance. She raised a brow when she eventually noticed his presence but made no comment upon it.

“When I give the word,” he said, applying his shoulder to the rear of the gig, “lead Matilda forward.”

The wheels spun, covering Nick in mud but refusing to grip the road’s surface. It took three attempts before the vehicle regained firm ground.

“Quick,” Nick said, “let’s head for that barn over yonder before we get even wetter than we already are.”

“Or muddier.” She stifled a giggle as her eyes ran down the length of him.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered beneath his breath, rolling his eyes. Forgetting to thank him appeared to be a failing of hers.

The horses required little persuasion to take shelter beneath the barn’s dilapidated roof. It leaked in several places but at least afforded them some protection from the torrential rain and biting wind. Nick unharnessed Matilda, removed his own horse’s saddle and rubbed them down with handfuls of straw to extract the worst of the water from their coats. Alicia ignored his directive to find somewhere warmer to wait out the storm. She stood to one side and was observing him instead.

“There.” He threw the last handful of soggy straw aside and found some fresh hay, which he placed before the horses. “Now, let’s attend to ourselves before we catch our deaths.” He led the way farther inside. “What is this place?”

“The area’s used for grazing in the autumn. We keep hay and straw here when it’s been harvested. It saves carting it all the way back to the main buildings.”

“I thought as much.” Nick looked about him at the neatly piled hay, kept under the roof parts which didn’t leak. The straw was stacked just as neatly on the opposite side.

“Thank you.”

Alicia’s almost grudging acknowledgement of his assistance brought his attention back to her. She’d seated herself on the edge of the hay and was trembling with cold. He was seized with an overwhelming desire to rub her body dry as well, except he’d take infinitely more care, and pleasure, from making her comfortable. Since that wasn’t possible, not even for him, he’d have to devise another means to keep them both warm until the storm abated.

Something inside him changed as his eyes lingered on her profile. She steadfastly refused to look in his direction, making it impossible for him to interpret her thoughts. Was she apprehensive about being here alone with him? Did she sense the tension in the atmosphere between them? Fate had provided him with a perfect opportunity to win his wager with Gibson. Instinct told him that she possessed a violently passionate nature, and once released it would quickly dispel any doubts she might otherwise entertain. That being the case, Nick wondered why he was even hesitating to exploit the situation.

“Here.” He shrugged out of his driving coat and handed it to her. “It’s still perfectly dry on the inside.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t. You’ll get cold yourself without it.”

“Nonsense, your situation is more perilous. You’ll freeze to death if you don’t get warm.” He wrapped the coat round her shoulders.

It swamped her, making her appear endearingly vulnerable. He sat beside her, still relatively warm in his coat and waistcoat, which had been protected from the elements by his driving coat. Alicia’s teeth were still chattering.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I believe you’d be warmer if you removed your gown. Unless I mistake the matter, it’s quite soaked through.”

She threw a scornful glance his way. “I hardly think that would be seemly.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” He moved closer to her, until their bodies were touching. “In which case we must think of another way to ward off the cold.” He pretended to consider their dilemma. “How would horses manage it?”

“They would huddle together and—”

Her words trailed off and she blushed a fiery shade of red.

“Quite so. They’d have the sense to set aside their differences and benefit from their close proximity to one another, sharing what bodily warmth they still possessed.” Nick permitted his grin to widen. “Clever creatures are horses, and we could do worse than follow their example.”

“I’ve never heard such a ridiculous suggestion in my entire life. Do you put so little stock by my reputation, sir?”

“I don’t think it’s your reputation that concerns you. Perhaps it’s more a case of your cousin Frederick objecting?”

She glared of him. “What do you know about that?’

Nick shrugged. “Rumours abound in the servants’ hall, so my man would have it.”

“Eavesdropping and then listening to servants’ gossip all in the same day, Your Grace?” She wrinkled her pert little nose in distaste but her attempt at moral superiority merely caused Nick to chuckle.

“Absolutely! Servants’ gossip is the
only
reliable way to learn what’s happening in an establishment. Surely you know that?”

“Be that as it may, my relationship with my cousin is none of your concern.”

“I understand you rejected his suit,” Nick said gently. “I congratulate you on your foresight, even if by recognising your cousin’s weaknesses you’ve passed up the opportunity to be mistress of your childhood home.” His eyes lingered on her profile and his voice softened. “In spite of your feelings for your cousin, or lack of them, it must have taken a deal of courage to resist such an offer.”

“I didn’t even stop to consider the material benefits when rejecting my cousin,” she said, staring off into the distance. “He has no feelings for me.”

“Then why did he make the offer?”

“He was showing a rare sensitivity because he didn’t care to think of me living alone when I come into my inheritance.” She tossed her head. “But it won’t serve. I don’t intend to marry, even to secure my own comfort. I’ll be quite content to live out my days alone in the village.”

“In that case, I feel we should return to our conversation about animal instincts.”

He ran his index finger idly down the length of her arm. It was covered by the thickness of his greatcoat, but he still sensed her shiver violently in response to his touch. He didn’t think that was because she was still cold and allowed a predatory smile to grace his lips. Never had a storm arrived at a more timely moment. It was as though the elements had conspired to create this opportunity. The hay looked soft and warm and altogether too inviting. Its sweet aroma filled the barn. Nick breathed it in, anticipating the moment when he’d toss this disrespectful wench into the middle of it in a flurry of petticoats and half-hearted protests.

Perhaps then images of her would no longer fill his head. Once his mind was clear of that delightful distraction, he’d be able to think more coherently about his reasons for being at Ravenswing Manor. And figure out the nature of the scam her uncle was attempting to perpetuate.

“You know all about matters that occur in the covering barn,” he said in a persuasive whisper, his fingers still tracing the length of her arm. “But don’t you ever stop to consider how such matters are conducted between a man and woman?”

Nick half expected her to protest at the turn their conversation had taken. Most young ladies would pretend to be outraged, simply because that reaction was expected of them, even if they privately hankered to indulge their curiosity. He wasn’t surprised to discover that this one had little time for convention and tackled the subject head-on.

“Indeed I do know what occurs in the covering barn.” She shuddered. “The couplings are very brutal and clinically achieved. I’ve never been able to understand why a lady would willingly put herself in that position.”

Nick chuckled. “Oh, I think you can.” Her face was flaming with embarrassment. He cupped her cheek gently in the palm of his hand. It was evident that she wanted to wrench her head away but seemed transfixed. “You feel it now, although you probably don’t recognise your feelings for what they actually are.” He spoke in the low, hypnotic tone which had never failed him in the past. “Why do you think the mares only accept the stallion’s advances when they’re feeling receptive?”

“I…I really c-couldn’t say.”

“Yes, you could. I didn’t think you lacked spirit.”

“No, really, I—”

“You know the answer because you’re feeling receptive now, Alicia, even though you wish it could be otherwise.”

“You’re talking in riddles, sir.”

This time she succeeded in turning her face away, leaving his hand clutching at air.

“Oh, I think you understand me very well. Your curiosity is piqued. Before you settle down to a life of respectable spinsterhood, you wish to learn firsthand what all the fuss is about.”

“You’re very sure of yourself, Your Grace.” She arched a brow, her face still suffused with colour, her breathing ragged.

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t intended as a compliment.”

“Nevertheless, I’ll take it as such.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Just because everyone else you meet flatters you, don’t imagine I’ll follow their example.”

“I hope you won’t. I find your manner of discourse far more engaging. But your effort to change the subject won’t work. Now, what were we discussing?”

“I can’t recall.” She flapped a hand. “Something very trivial, I’m sure.”

Nick chuckled. “You want to know what makes a man and woman get so carried away by their feelings that they act rashly. You want to understand what impulse makes them forget the proprieties and engage in carnal relations. Why it is that they can’t help themselves? What impulse could be so strong, it blinds them to all reason?”