Lucy Ashford - One Night with a Regency Lord

‘You’re a stubborn man.’

‘And you’re a stubborn woman. Why are you still here? I seem to remember sending you on your way.’

‘You did and more than once—but it would be strange behaviour for a sister to abandon her brother.’

‘Ah, yes, I’d forgotten that I’d acquired a new relative. Quite a surprise for me—though entirely beneficial.’

His blue eyes held the warm glow that she found so unsettling, but instinctively she returned his smile.

‘It can’t have been pleasant for you, forced to tend a sick man you barely knew and with no help from that bracket-faced termagant.’

She wanted to say that she knew him a great deal better now, but instead limited herself to murmuring neutrally, ‘Even less pleasant for you, I fear. But Mr Skinner has been so very helpful. He’s watched over you constantly and even persuaded his wife to cook for us.’

‘Has she been very tiresome?’

‘Shall we say she’s not best pleased to be entertaining two vagrants.’ Amelie grinned, remembering the skirmishes she’d endured while Gareth lay helpless above.

‘One thing does occur to me,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘The Skinners must be wondering why no one has come from our supposed home to look for us.’

‘I told them that I’d sent the local carrier with a message when he passed here the day before yesterday.’

‘And they believed you?’

‘Mrs Skinner probably didn’t, but then she wouldn’t believe anything. She decided from the outset that we were impostors, and of course she’s right.’

For a moment he was startled, wondering how she could possibly have guessed that he was not the man he appeared.

‘I mean,’ she explained seeing the surprise on his face, ‘that we’re playing this charade of being brother and sister.’ She looked at him enquiringly. ‘Do you have a sister, in fact?’

‘No.’

‘Do you have any family—won’t they be wondering where you are?’

‘No and no,’ he said shortly, then added in a more conciliatory tone, ‘My only relation was my grandfather and he’s now dead.’

‘I’m sorry.’ The compassion in her voice touched him on the raw.

‘Don’t be,’ he said roughly, ‘it’s a matter of indifference to me.’

But she was not to be deterred. ‘If you have no family in Bristol, why do you want to go there?’

He shifted his position, but remained sitting in silence.

‘While you were suffering from the fever you mentioned taking a boat and escaping,’ she persevered. ‘What did you mean?’

‘I’ve no idea. When people are feverish, they talk a lot of nonsense,’ he retorted.

She had the distinct impression of an iron gate being swiftly clanged shut; she would learn no more. And in a trice he’d deftly turned the tables on her and begun to probe her own story.

‘And why were you determined on travelling to Bristol?’

He must know that she’d been less than honest with him, at the very least that she’d lied about her destination.

‘A family there are advertising for a lady’s maid and I intended to apply for the position.’

‘They must have advertised days ago. The situation might already be filled.’ He’d evidently decided to maintain the pretence.

‘I daresay you’re right,’ she replied airily. ‘They’re sure to have hired another girl by now.’

‘So when you get to Bristol, what will you do?’

‘I think,’ she said carefully, ‘I shall try my luck in Bath. There’s any number of retired dowagers living there and one of them is bound to need assistance.’

‘I wish you luck. Would you like a testimonial from me?’ he joked. Then his face took on a more serious air.‘Without a reference from your previous family, you’ll find it difficult to get work.’

‘I shall manage. I’ve no reason to feel ashamed. I shall tell the truth about why I had to leave.’

‘Will they believe you, though? As an employer I might find it difficult to accept your situation was so desperate that you had to climb out of the window on knotted sheets. Things like that only happen in novels. If you’d simply told your mistress what her son was up to, she would have intervened.’

‘No, she wouldn’t. He’s spoilt and pampered and no one gainsays him, least of all his adoring mother. She’d never have believed me. She’d have accused me of plotting to ensnare him and I’d have been turned off without notice.’

‘How has your situation improved? You’re still without a job and still without references.’

‘But I haven’t had to endure lies and false accusations.’

He looked a little conscious at this. ‘Until you met me, I suppose.’

‘Yes, until I met you.’

She was looking directly at him and he was caught by her gaze. How could a pair of eyes sparkle with such militancy and yet drown a man in their allure?

‘Was there nobody else in the family that you could turn to?’ he said quickly. ‘What about your young mistress?’

‘She was a good friend to me,’ Amelie admitted, happily weaving her fantasy, ‘but she’s to be married to a wealthy man against her wishes. She’s powerless to offer me protection.’

‘You could always marry. You’d receive ample protection then. You must have enjoyed plenty of attention from your fellows—beautiful and intelligent maidservants aren’t two a penny.’

‘I will never marry,’ she declared resolutely.

Gareth smiled indulgently. ‘You’re not much more than a child—far too young to know how you’ll feel in the future.’

Nettled by his mocking tone, her response was sharp. ‘On the contrary, I shall feel in the future just as I do now. I intend to stay a single woman if I can.’

‘Then you are vastly unlike the rest of your sex. Why so definite?’

‘I don’t wish to be subject to any man.’

‘The right man can be a powerful defender.’

‘Not those I’ve known—they’ve been either dissolute or vain and shallow.’

‘There are men who are none of those things.’

She raised her eyebrows sceptically. ‘You, for instance?’

Damn her, he thought, why was she forever putting him in the wrong? He’d behaved appallingly, he knew, and for no other reason than a desire to master her, to ruffle that beautiful surface. She was just too lovely.

Aloud he admitted to his offence. ‘I behaved stupidly when we first met, more than stupidly.’ He shook his head at his folly. ‘I made a bad situation worse by getting extremely drunk.’

She looked enquiringly at him, but it was evident he had no intention of disclosing the cause of his erratic behaviour. She wondered if it had anything to do with the grandfather for whom he’d just professed the utmost indifference.

Trying another tack, she said quietly, ‘You may not have relatives in England, but what about friends?’

‘None of those, either,’ he muttered roughly. ‘I’m a wanderer, Amelie, and friends and family play no part in my life.’

She sensed that beneath his grim detachment, there lurked a vulnerability he would not admit. Her eyes clouded with sympathy and without thinking she reached out towards him, gently stroking the tanned forearm that showed beneath his rolled-up sleeves.

His hand closed over hers and held it tightly. He looked directly into her concerned face, hard blue eyes meeting soft brown, his gaze intent, wondering. For a long moment they sat thus. Then he reached out and slowly caressed her cheek. Her pulse began an erratic dance as his touch warmed her face. He let his hand slide from her cheek to tangle itself in the glossy curls which tumbled to her shoulders. Turning his body towards her, he cupped her face in both his hands and tilted it upwards. She watched as his mouth came closer and without thinking offered up her lips. His kiss was hard and warm and lingered long.