Janice Preston - Scandal And Miss Markham

‘And where is that?’

A cough took Vernon unaware. Pain forked through him and he sucked an involuntary breath in through his teeth. The boy’s head jerked upright and he stared through the darkness at Vernon.

‘Are you hurt?’

‘Merely a scratch,’ he gritted out. ‘You left before I could thank you properly.’ He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a half-sovereign. ‘Here. I am—’

Vernon bit off his words. The boy had reached out for the coin, muttering Thanks, and something about that disgruntled, near-sarcastic tone of voice jogged a memory. He did not stop to think about it...about how unlikely it was...he nudged his horse closer to the dainty black mare and took hold of her reins. The fresh scent of roses assailed his senses.

It cannot—

In one swift movement he snatched the cap from the boy’s head. Even though it was too dark to see the colour, there was no mistaking the spring of the curls that tumbled about her forehead, nor the delicate oval of her face, nor the plump softness of the lips that formed a silent Oh! of horror. Vernon lifted his gaze to meet a pair of large, startled eyes that he just knew were hazel in colour.

‘What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?’

Chapter Six

Thea shrank from the utter fury in Vernon’s voice, the blood stuttering through her veins. She said nothing. There was nothing she could say. The only sound was of the early stirrings of nocturnal wildlife rustling in the still evening air. She suppressed a shiver. She was unafraid of the dark, but she could not begin to guess how Lord Vernon Beauchamp might now react. She had not trusted him to concentrate on finding Daniel, but had never stopped to wonder about her own safety if...when...he discovered her presence.

A growl sounded, muted at first, as though contained deep within him, but it grew and grew until, with a hasty gesture that made Thea flinch, Vernon snatched his hat from his head, thrust his other hand through his hair and then, swinging his right leg over Warrior’s neck, he jumped to the ground and strode away. After a dozen paces, he stopped and then hunkered down, his head hanging.

Thea chewed her lip. It was too late to ride away. He knew it was she and therefore she had no choice but to face him. She dismounted and approached the still figure. His breath came in hoarse rasps and, with a flurry of concern, she recalled that fight and his earlier hissed intake of breath.

‘Are you injured?’ She dropped a timid hand on his shoulder.

‘I said it is but a scratch.’

He stood and Thea staggered back several paces as he towered over her. He held up his hands, palms facing her, in a gesture of peace.

‘It is all right.’ There was still a hard edge to his voice, but that raw anger had softened. ‘I might be furious, but I have never in my life offered violence to a woman and I am not about to start now, no matter how tempted I am to put you over my knee and spank you.’

Thea gasped, but shock soon gave way to her own anger. ‘You cannot dictate my movements, Lord Vernon. You are neither my father nor my brother—’

‘Thank God for that small mercy.’

‘And I do not answer to you.’

‘Again, thank God. I can think of nothing worse than being responsible for a little firebrand such as you.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Except, of course, I am now responsible for you.’

‘You are most certainly not responsible for me. I am a woman grown. An adult. And a perfectly capable one at that.’ Thea moved closer to him, stretching to her full height and thrusting her face as close to his as she could manage. ‘I am responsible for myself. It is nothing to do with you.’

He huffed a laugh of disbelief. ‘Then...’ he put his hat back on and started back towards the horses ‘...I shall leave you to it, Miss Markham.’ She heard him chuckle as he walked away. ‘Dorothea! Dotty is more like it. Yes, that is it.’ He spun to face her, continuing to move away, walking backwards. ‘Dotty by name, dotty by nature.’

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