Taffeta & Hotspur (24 page)

This notion was followed by the next,
that being it was no doubt time to drop her arms and pull out of
range, which she did speedily, wondering all the while how the
deuce this situation had come to pass.

Her blue-green eyes glittered angrily
as she sought words; a scream seeded itself in her throat and
surely would have been emitted had not the stranger had the
foresight to put his powerful hand over her parting
lips.

This quite naturally did little to
inspire trust, and yet his friendly grin seemed to suggest he meant
no harm. “Hush there, sweetings … I don’t mean to take any more
than you are willing to give,” said the handsome man above
her.

Outrage surged through Myriah, and she
managed to work the skin between his thumb and forefinger into her
dainty mouth, whereupon she latched her teeth onto her target and
bit down hard. This produced the required result: he jumped away.
With an oath, he was out of the bed and standing in all his
glory—and that glory was still at full mast.

Myriah could not help but stare. It
was the first time she had ever actually seen a man’s cock. She and
her friends had often discussed and giggled about sex and the naked
stone statues they had secretly glanced at, but this … this, she
found momentarily diverting.

His lordship was not diverted or
self-conscious about his state of undress. As he sucked his wounded
finger, he stared hard at her, noting that she seemed transfixed on
his privates.

The gasp that had been stuck in her
throat finally escaped. The words of outrage got mingled with fear,
and she jumped up to a sitting position. Pulling the covers around
herself, she pointed towards the door as she blubbered, “How dare
you! Get out of my room!”

His voice was low, husky, and full
with a sensually lined amusement. “Well, little bird, for one thing
… this is my room. And for another, although I should be throwing
you out, I think I’ll keep you in spite of your offense to my
person.”

“
Keep me? Keep me!” Myriah
couldn’t understand what was happening and who this could possibly
be.

“
Aye then, my brother no
doubt brought you home with him, but since he has set you up in my
bed, I suppose he means to share.”

“
Your brother … share …?”
Myriah put up her chin. “For your information, I brought your
brother home, and he was in a very bad way—wounded, in fact—and my
groom, your Fletcher, and I have been tending to him!”

All at once, the muscular and tall
gentleman frowned darkly. He crossed the room and retrieved a long
black brocade dressing gown, threw it on, and demanded of her, “Now
… explain yourself!”

“
Explain myself?”

“
My brother, you say …” he
returned impatiently.

Myriah could not help but note the
size and breadth of the man and the fact that he was
extraordinarily gorgeous, with his dark blonde hair and glittering
gray eyes.

“
Yes, we found him by the
side of the road. He had been shot … we brought him here
…”

He was out of the room like a charging
bull, taking long, hard strides. Myriah shot out of bed and dug in
her portmanteau for the sky-blue velvet robe she had packed. She
quickly slid into it and tied it at her small waist before barefoot
she padded after him.

* * *

Lord Wimborne stood for a moment over
his brother’s still form. William looked absurdly youthful,
dangerously pale, and helpless. His lordship decided not to wake
him but instead brushed a stray lock of hair from his brother’s
forehead. Billy’s eyes flashed open.

“
Kit!” whispered young
Wimborne as though he were viewing a god.

“
Young fool—they tell me you
caught a bullet,” Lord Wimborne said gravely.

“
Devil is in it that I
did—but there was nothing for it, Kit … had to go out … for I got
word…”

“
Never mind that now. We’ll
talk about it later. I would like to know something about the chit
in my bed … if you feel up to talking.”

“
Ah, you’ve seen the
she-devil, have you?”

Lord Wimborne laughed. “I
have.”

* * *

“She-devil?” Myriah almost snorted as
she came to stand beside Billy’s bed and touch his forehead. “Now
that is a fine introduction to your brother.”

“
She makes me eat gruel,”
Billy Wimborne explained to his older brother.

“
For your own good.” Myriah
smiled sweetly. “And besides, I put a touch of honey in it, didn’t
I?”

“
Still not palatable, and I
tell you what, I want eggs and ham tomorrow morning.”

“
Eggs and ham.” Myriah shook
her head and touched his arm. “Well, we shall see … I will leave
you to your brother.”

Billy reached out and grabbed her
hand. “No need for you to leave.”

“
And still, I think, you
need some moments with your brother.” She turned to his lordship
and eyed him darkly as though silently berating him for their
earlier encounter. “Do not tire him.”

* * *

His lordship watched the young woman’s
retreating form. She was an exquisite beauty, and her fiery hair
against the blue velvet caught and riveted the
imagination.

“
Now tell me … who the devil
is she?”

Billy suddenly realized he had not yet
asked Myriah her name. He had been teasing her all day, and they
had bantered back and forth, but all he knew was that her groom,
Tabby, called her Miss Myriah. He told his brother this with a
heavy sigh, beginning to feel fatigued once more.

“
And that is it? You didn’t
ask her where she was from, or what she was doing on the Pike Road
at that hour, or what her family name is and how she can stay on
here without sending word to someone?”

“
No … very ill mannered of
me, I know … but … wasn’t feeling quite the thing …”

Kit realized at once that he had
over-taxed his young brother. He touched Billy’s arm, saying,
“There … go to sleep. We will get this all sorted out in the
morning.”

“
Aye, but Kit … Fletcher
gave her your room.” Billy grinned mischievously.

“
I have already discovered
that fact!”

Dawning lit in Billy’s gray eyes so
much like his brother’s. “Oh! So that is it!” He laughed, coughed,
and laughed some more.

“
Good night, scamp,” Kit
threw over his shoulder as he made his way to his
bedroom.

He encountered the lady in question in
the long hallway. She had her bag and had made her way down the
hall to open a door and sniff. She turned to him and said stiffly,
“It smells dusty, but I’ll deal with that in the morning.” A nod of
her head and she was in the room, closing the door, which he then
heard bolted.

An involuntary smile crept over his
face.

* * *

“You look different, you do,” Billy
offered as Myriah tried feeding him some gruel, only to have it
pushed away.

“
I look different because,
my odious friend, I have changed my clothing and brushed my
hair.”

“
Well, it’s about time,”
said her patient.

Her blue-green eyes glared. “Oooh, but
I think you deserve this gruel!” She made another attempt to put
the spoon of the warm meal to his lips.

“
Damnation, girl!” the young
man said with as much authority as he could muster under the
circumstances. “’Tis food I need—not gruel.”

“
And food is what you shall
get once you have shown me you can hold the gruel down.”

“
I am in Hell, and you are a
she-devil!”

“
Really, Mr. Wimborne,
earlier this morning you declared me an angel!”

“
I was delirious, for you
ain’t an angel but a wicked she-devil bent on having her own way.
Knew it the moment I laid eyes on your flaming hair!” retorted Mr.
Wimborne.

“
Aha! Not only are you an
adventurer, you are an ingrate as well!” Myriah teased, pleased to
see him in such spirits.

He smiled feebly, but fatigue
prevented him from further repartee, and he settled back against
his pillows.

Myriah observed this and refrained
from teasing him. Instead, she said softly, “Come then … have a
spoonful.”

He groaned but did in fact allow
himself to be fed, making an awful face as he swallowed the
food.

Tabson appeared with a tray and set it
on a nearby table before eyeing his mistress.

“
Thank you, Tabby.” She knew
what he wanted—he wanted to leave and hurry to her grandfather’s
and avoid any further trouble. He had already lectured her earlier
that morning. She, however, had other ideas.

She tried to ply her patient with
another spoon, but he waved a hand at her. “Go away!”

She put the bowl down on the
nightstand and propped up his pillows. He eyed her suspiciously.
“What are you doing now?”

“
Making you more comfortable
so you will finish your gruel.”

“
No,” said her
patient.

“
No?” She eyed him
warningly. She brought another spoon to his mouth and was surprised
when he took it without a fight. “That’s it, Mr. Wimborne … that’s
the ticket.”

“
Billy to you … after all,
you cannot be shoving that slovenly mush into m’mouth and calling
me, Mr. Wimborne!” He smiled broadly. “’Tis ridiculous, and I’ll
not call you anything but she-devil.”

She wedged another spoonful into the
poor man’s mouth and grinned. “My name, sir, is Myriah—Myriah
White.” She felt a twinge of guilt; she didn’t want to fib to him,
but she had to keep up the pretense.

“
Myriah, you know, suits
you. You look like a Myriah.”

She smiled, thinking he was giving her
a compliment, and then he threw in, “’Tis but another name for
she-devil after all!”

She laughed and shoved another
spoonful into his open mouth. However, that was the last he would
take, and he pointed to her tray of food. “What do you
have?”

She sighed and went to her own platter
of sirloin and roast potatoes. He watched her pick at her meal and
muttered something incoherent. Myriah laughed and brought her
platter to the bed, whereupon the two shared the single meal. Each
seemed quite pleased with the other, and Myriah left him resting
peacefully, promising to return with tea and biscuits later in the
day.

Below stairs, curiosity drew her to an
open door just off the central hall, and she entered cautiously to
find a well-stocked library. However, what captured her attention
was the far wall, which was covered with portraits. They appeared
to be family portraits. She lit a candle since the room was
shrouded in the darkness of the day. It was drizzling outside, and
although the library housed a wonderful panoramic window, there
wasn’t much light to be had.

With the candle sconce in hand she
went to the portraits and held it high to have a good look at one
in particular of a young lad and a man. Here was William Wimborne
and his lordship, and the painting must have been commissioned
quite a few years ago.

Billy looked to be no more than
fifteen or sixteen in the portrait, and his lordship looked
fascinating and happier than when she had met him. She put a finger
to her lips as she studied the painting. His lordship’s
honey-colored hair had been very accurately captured … as had been
the strong line of his jaw.

She heard someone behind her and spun
around to stare up at Lord Kit Wimborne. The air she had been
breathing suddenly burned in her throat. He was devastatingly
handsome, and for a moment she felt like an awkward schoolgirl. He
wore a riding jacket of dark blue, cream-colored breeches, and high
black boots polished to a fine sheen. His honey-colored hair hung
to his shoulders in waves of thick silk, and his gray eyes
glittered and reminded her that she had been naked under his
touch.

Her cheeks felt warm as she managed to
say, “Oh … my lord.”

He smiled, and as though he had never
treated her like a piece of fluff, had never touched her naked
skin, he said, “I trust you slept well in your … er … dusty
room?”

“
I did … and it is dusty no
longer. Spent a bit of time this morning and set it to
rights.”

“
Good. Now if you will, Miss
…”

“
White, Myriah White,” she
offered hastily.

“
Miss White … I have some
questions.” He waved her to a brown leather winged chair and took
one up opposite after she deposited the candleholder on a nearby
table and sat. “I would like to know what you and your groom were
doing on the Pike Road at such an hour.”

“
We were on the way to my
aunt’s in Dover. We lost our way … rested the horses and ourselves,
and again became hopelessly lost. We hadn’t meant to travel so
late, you see, and then I noticed a horse near the ditch and after
investigating, found your brother, bleeding to death in the ditch.”
There, she thought, that should silence him.

“
I see. Then we have imposed
on you long enough. Should you need help finding the correct road
to Dover, I will be happy to take you there in the
morning.”