The Royal Scamp (23 page)

He looked surprised. “Why it’s only—”

“Only twenty to five, practically sunrise.”

“We haven’t had time to talk.”

Esther yawned into her fist. “No time to talk? We’ve been talking for hours.”

“But not about us.”
He rose from his chair and sat beside her on the sofa. “Only about your other beau, Captain Johnnie. I hope this convinces you that you would be better off with a man you’ve known longer."

Esther gave him a teasing look. “Buck, do you mean? Or Meecham?”
She felt this Joshua who had suddenly turned heroic was half a stranger.

“Buck will be busy running the inn. Meecham, I hope, will marry Margaret and buy the Pilchener house from me. He really is interested in settling here. I made an offer on Pilchener’s estate.”

“I know.”

He looked a question. She continued, “You’re not the only one who was trying to catch Johnnie. Where is Meecham going to get money to buy the house?”

“Lady Margaret’s dot is generous enough to permit it—if she’ll have him. I rather think she will. She wants to marry, and Paul is a good fellow. It would lighten my mortgage payments somewhat. I invited her here on this occasion hoping the two would be attracted. I believe my simple stratagem worked. We’ll be a little pinched for a while with mortgage payments, but it will be worth it. Between Pilchener’s place, the Abbey, and our inn, we’ll be the largest landowners in the county.”

Esther, like any clever lady, honed in on the most significant word in his speech. “Our inn, Josh?”

“To be precise, the inn belonging to the Lowden Investment Company. I don’t think we should sell it after all, if it’s making three thousand per annum.”

“I’m only Queen of the May, not a royal highness! When did
I
become
we
!”

He reached for her fingers and squeezed them. “It has been a slow transformation. I believe the final fusion occurred when I saw Johnnie holding that gun to your back. I knew that if anything happened to you, it would be as if a part of myself died, too. Why did you do it?”
His voice rose in frustration, but he quickly damped it back down to ardor. “I shouldn’t ask. I can understand the allure of danger well enough.”

Esther waited, and when he said no more, she said, “Perhaps if you could let off arguing about my calling—”

“I have no objection to your being the mistress of Heath Abbey. That is the calling I have in mind.”

She waited. There was passion in his eyes and voice, but it had not yet extended to other parts of his body. “I see,”
she said unhelpfully.

Joshua studied her for acceptance. “I know you have a fancy for more romantic gentlemen. I daresay I seem a dull old farmer to you, but now that you’ve had a taste of the other side of Captain Johnnie—”

A dreamy look possessed her. It was the other side of Joshua that caused it—that dashing side that enjoyed donning a mask and cape and riding into the dark danger of the heath. But when she answered, she said, “I wonder who my Captain Johnnie was, the one who kissed me on the heath.”

“Kissed you! You didn’t tell me that!”

“Did I not? It happened when I was with Beau and Cathy. Some friend of his, I am convinced. Probably a footman from the Black Knight.”

“And you let him!”

“How could I stop a full-grown man?”
she said innocently.

Joshua took the hint and pulled her into his arms for a satisfyingly violent kiss that raised a memory of that kiss on the heath. Behind closed eyes she imagined the starry sky. The strong arms crushing her were not the arms of a farmer but a demanding lover. His passion was hot and grew more fevered as she returned the pressure of his embrace.

There was a romantic hiding in Joshua, as there was a dullard in the real Captain Johnnie, who could be satisfied with the simpleminded, irritating Cathy Barker for his lover. Esther encouraged the Scamp in Joshua, till propriety and fatigue brought it to a halt.

“We’ll discuss this further tomorrow,”
she said primly.

Josh grazed a finger possessively along her cheek, while his dark eyes smiled lazily into hers. “It will take a deal of discussion, but the important matter is settled, Mrs. Ramsay. You and your aunt can discuss gowns and dates and menus, but do it quickly. I want my wife here, where I can keep an eye on her.”

Then he closed his eyes and kissed her again.

Copyright © 1989 by Joan Smith

Originally published by Fawcett Crest (ISBN 978-0449216101)

Electronically published in 2015 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.