Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

‘You are being impertinent, my lord.’ It was said with an attempt at severity, but she did not quite succeed and a small sigh escaped her.

He heard it and looked round at her. Captain Hartley was right; she was vulnerable. ‘I beg your pardon. Perhaps I have been too long in the army and have forgot the niceties of polite society.’

‘Did you ever know them, my lord?’

He looked sharply at her. ‘Are you implying my manners were ever less than you would expect of a gentleman? If so, I might remind you we were only lightly acquainted before I went into the army. And you were only a schoolgirl.’

‘So you do remember.’

‘Yes, I remember. What a long time ago that seems.’

‘What do you remember?’

‘Let me see, a young lady in a dimity dress and pantaloons who could handle a shotgun almost as tall as she was and shoot ten ducks in a row.’

‘Oh, yes, I did, didn’t I?’ she said, laughing at the memory. It had been very conceited of her to attempt it and she had been very relieved when she had made good her boast.

‘What did you do with the pig? Did you eat it?’

‘No, I could not bear to do that. It was a female. I bred from her and sold the litter. It was my first lesson in business.’

‘Who taught you to shoot?’

‘My father’s gamekeeper. Papa was all in favour, but my governess was horrified.’

‘I never saw you with a governess.’

‘Oh, I was easily able to escape from them.’

‘Them? More than one?’

‘Yes, about one a year I should think. I am afraid I was not a very good child.’

He laughed. ‘I can believe it. Who taught you to ride?’

‘Oh, that was Papa, as soon as I could sit on a little pony. And the stable boy taught me to fish and swim, so you see my upbringing has been out of the ordinary. It was all to fit me for my role as my father’s heir.’

‘Were there no ladies in your life?’

‘Only my governesses, though Mrs Cater—that’s my cook-housekeeper—once told me my mother’s sister came when Papa was first widowed, but he would not have her near him. She reminded him too much of Mama, I think, and he said he would brook no interference in the way he brought up his daughter.’

‘You must have been very lonely.’

‘I was never aware that I was, not until Papa died and I found myself owner of Mandeville and in charge of everything. By then, of course, my independence was part of my character. I could not change now, even if I wished to.’

‘Oh, I think you could,’ he said softly, reaching out and putting a hand over hers as it lay in her lap. ‘You can learn to trust.’

‘Trust, my lord?’ She was aware of the warmth of his hand on hers, but made no attempt to withdraw hers. It was a new experience to be treated with tenderness. No one had done so before, not her father and certainly not the young men who paid court to her fortune and not to her. Was Roland Temple any different?

‘Yes, trust your instinct. Instinct is a kind of sixth sense, more a woman’s characteristic, I think. Where it comes from I do not know. The heart, perhaps. Listen to it.’

‘And what should it be telling me?’

He reached out and put his fingers to the side of her throat, making her suck in her breath. ‘Relax,’ he said, half-jesting. ‘I only wish to establish that it is in good order after all you have been through.’

She could feel her heart thumping as he took her chin in his hand and tipped her face up to his. She could not have pulled herself from his grasp even if she had wanted to and found herself looking up into his eyes and once again she felt the power in him, drawing her towards him, as if she had no will of her own. He searched her face and saw, not the harridan, not the wild woman, but the lonely girl who needed awakening, a girl with slightly parted lips and shining green eyes, tempting him. The temptation was too much to resist; he brought his mouth down to hers. He did not want to hurt her, but to arouse her.

He kissed her skilfully, pressing her into him, so that her body was held against his the whole way from shoulder to thigh. Her breasts were hard against his chest, her legs were pressing against his, her feet almost off the floor. The kiss lingered and deepened, making her squirm, no longer in an effort to resist him, but because what he was doing was sending little shivers of desire down through her belly to the secret places of her groin. She wanted him. She wanted him with an intensity that shocked her. His mouth moved from hers and found its way down past her ear to her throat, kissing, gently and insistently, and transporting her to a heaven she had never even dreamed of. She felt almost boneless, a quivering jelly that had no shape except his.

He drew away at last, holding her at arm’s length to look at her. ‘My God,’ he said, grinning lopsidedly. ‘You are all woman after all.’

If he had said anything else, if he had spoken tenderly, if he had shown some remorse for his behaviour, she would have been overjoyed at this awakening, but his words had reminded her of other words uttered in scorn six years before, words she could not forget. Her retort was for the girl she had been, not the woman she had become. ‘How dare you! How dare you force yourself on me in that cavalier fashion and then mock me.’ She was breathless from his kisses and her face was scarlet with mortification that she had given in so easily.

‘I did not force myself on you, you were willing. As for mocking you…’

‘Yes, mocking. You are a past master at that. I had a lucky escape six years ago, not that I would ever have considered marrying you.’

His teasing tone disappeared as suddenly as it had come. ‘Six years ago?’

‘Oh, do not tell me you have forgotten. “She is a hoyden and ought to have been a boy. She is certainly plain enough.” Your words, Lord Temple.’

‘Good God! You were never meant to hear them.’

‘Then you should not have spoken so loudly, my lord.’

‘If it is any comfort to you, I have regretted them ever since.’

‘I do not need comfort, my lord. And my heart is still intact.’ Her voice was icy. ‘Now, I see we are drawing into an inn yard. I bid you good day.’ She did not wait for Bennett or Talbot to open the door, but wrenched it open and jumped down, almost before the wheels had ceased to turn.

He watched as she marched into the inn, her hair bedraggled, her skirt muddy and torn, and he cursed himself for the biggest fool in Christendom. He was reeling from the knowledge that she had heard what he had said to his father, had not only heard, but had obviously been hurt, hurt enough to remember his exact words. While he did not think she had heard them, he could push them to the back of his mind, but now he was consumed with guilt, the more so since he had come to know her and realise how unjust he had been. He did not think she was plain at all, she was beautiful, and if she was a hoyden, it was a trait he could admire in her because she had had to step into her father’s shoes with all the responsibility for hundreds of employees on her shoulders. Her burden was even greater than his. Too shocked to do anything else, he silently let her go.

Raised voices coming from the inn alerted him to the fact that something was amiss. He hurried inside to find her arguing hotly with the innkeeper who would not serve her, calling her a filthy gypsy and he wanted none of her like in his establishment. There was nothing for it but to intervene.

‘The lady is with me,’ he said. ‘Her carriage has overturned and she requires assistance, not insults.’

She rounded on him. ‘Assistance, not insults, my lord. How apt.’ And she gave a cracked laugh.

‘My lord?’ the innkeeper queried, looking at Roland.