Almost a Countess by Jenna Jaxon

Chapter 7

“Cat got yer tongue, Miss Harper?”

The acid in Lord Aberfoyle’s tone rubbed Dora the wrong way, causing her guilt to evaporate. She’d been within her rights to confine him. It was her house, after all. “Not likely, my lord.” She drew herself up and narrowed her eyes. “I was merely startled to find you wearing my brother’s clothing. Can you tell me where you came by those garments?”

“Yer maid brought them tae me, along with a razor, after breakfast. A kindness I shall no’ forget.” He still looked daggers at her. “Nor will I forget the shock o’ finding my chamber door locked this morning.”

“May one inquire where you were planning to go so early?” Two could play at indignation. “And in such deshabille?” She looked him up and down. “I assume it was before Larkin brought these clothes.”

“I had planned tae go in search o’ my clothes.” He nodded toward the door. “I’d no’ seen them since I came here, and I wished tae be decently dressed when I saw ye again.”

At that, Dora dropped her gaze. She couldn’t fault him for wanting to be properly attired in her presence. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I didn’t believe you’d be out of bed so soon. Larkin must have taken your clothing to clean it when she took my riding habit. They will be returned to you as soon as they are ready. In the meantime, you are welcome to avail yourself of my brother’s clothing.” She paused and gave a small sigh. “He has no more use for it.”

“I thank ye for that, Miss Harper.” He opened his mouth again, as though he wished to ask a question, but in the end closed it instead.

“I also apologize for locking your door, although I believe you can understand my reasons for doing so.” Dora raised her head to look him squarely in the eyes. “I am responsible for all those in my household, and therefore I deemed it safer for all concerned to have you confined while you were sleeping.” She shrugged. He could take her apology or not. “I decided to err on the side of caution. I hope you can see the sense of that.”

“I suppose I can appreciate yer decision there, Miss Harper. Now I think o’ it, I’d wish my sister tae show such caution should the need ever arise for her t’ dae sae.” He cocked his head and gave her an appraising look. “Ye’ve not told me yet why ye’re here alone save for servants? Were yer parents called away unexpectedly, perhaps?”

“Suffice it to say they are from home at the moment, my lord.” Dora refused to be drawn out about her vulnerability. Best focus on his. “So your ankle is much improved?” She nodded to his leg. “You can walk on it without pain now?”

Lord Aberfoyle grunted and shifted his position. “’Tis better, thank ye, although I’m no’ yet pain free. I can bear some weight on it, but I’m no’ sure I can ride yet.” He looked inquiringly at her. “I wondered if I might try it out in the saddle this morning. If ye might like tae accompany me, tae keep an eye on me, as it were.” He grinned, and Dora relaxed for the first time since entering the room. “I see ye’re dressed tae ride.”

“I am. However, I’m afraid I cannot ride with you this morning, my lord. I’m on my way to visit a friend who just arrived in the neighborhood.”

His face fell a trifle, which made Dora’s heart beat faster. “I understand.”

“Perhaps when I return this afternoon, we can ride out and test your ankle.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth pinched. “I believe I’m capable o’ riding on my own, lass.”

“Under usual circumstances, perhaps. With your ankle an unknown, I insist on accompanying you, my lord.” She stared evenly into his face. Trusting him with her horse unaccompanied would be foolhardy. “It’s only common courtesy.”

“That’s kind o’ ye, lass.” But he seemed put out by her suggestion.

“My pleasure, my lord.” She beamed broadly at him. “We must needs keep you safe.”

“Then thank ye, Miss Harper. I find myself even more in yer debt.” He made an elegant bow, showing a rueful smirk as he straightened.

Why was it whenever he smiled, her legs wanted to turn to jelly?

“Will you accompany me downstairs now, my lord? I’ll make sure you are provided for some entertainment while I am gone.” Dora turned to the door. “There’s a library that’s fairly well stocked. And the garden is quite lovely this time of year, but I wouldn’t stray too far from the house. I would remind you that the soldiers are likely lurking about the countryside. You’d not want them to see you.”

He chuckled as he followed her out of the room. “That is one piece o’ advice I will be sure tae heed. I want neither tae be apprehended again nor bring the troop’s wrath down upon yer household, Miss Harper.”

“I thank you for that assurance, my lord.” They took the stairs together and when they reached the entry hall, Dora called for the footman.

“James, please have Gretchen saddled for me.”

“Yes, miss.” James gave one inquisitive look at his lordship then made an abrupt about-face and hurried from the room.

As they walked out the front door, Dora had a sudden misgiving about Lord Aberfoyle’s plan for the day. “If you intend to stroll the property, you really should keep to the park near the house.” She pointed to the grassy lawn to the right of the driveway. “A couple of turns around the driveway and a short path through those trees should give you some exercise for your ankle. If you wander farther afield, you might encounter the soldiers.” She frowned. “Of course, they may very well appear here anyway, but I still think you will be safer if you stay close to the house.”

“I will keep that in mind, Miss Harper.” The cheerful smile on his lips, however, told her he would likely traipse all over the estate. Some men simply thrived on danger.

James appeared, leading her horse, and Lord Aberfoyle stepped in quickly, albeit with a grimace, to give her a leg up into the saddle. “A much easier mount than yesterday, dinna ye agree?”

“I do, my lord.” She sat thinking for a moment and sighed. “I’d like Alfred to accompany me today, James. The countryside is less quiet of late, and I am riding to see friends who will expect me to be accompanied. Will you tell him I’ll wait for him here?”

“I could ride with ye, Miss Harper.” Lord Aberfoyle jumped in eagerly with his offer. “It would give me both the chance tae stretch this leg and ye could keep an eye on me in case Scarlet puts in an appearance.”

She might have known he’d suggest that. Shaking her head, she said, “I’m sorry, my lord, but that simply won’t do.” She broke off to look at the groom. “Go tell Alfred to saddle a horse, James.” Then she turned back to the earl, whose face had fallen a foot. “Surely you must see, my lord, that I would have no way to explain your presence to my friends.” It would be hard enough to keep him a secret from Violet as it was. And if Tris caught wind of it— “Lord Trevor, in particular, would be irate if he knew you had spent the night here.”

“Why is he sae protective o’ ye?” Lord Aberfoyle stared pointedly at her, a frown beginning to darken his brows. “Is he a relative?”

“Not exactly.” There was no good way to explain her connection to Tris save to state it baldly. “I was betrothed to him last year and jilted him earlier this year so he could wed another. Now I fear he may feel responsible for me in some manner.” She’d not seen Tris since his wedding in January, but Violet had written to her that Tris felt guilty that her father had banished her. For one who knew Tris, it was no small leap to assume he would try to rectify the matter as best he could. This visit would allow her to gauge how serious Tris was going to be about interfering in her life.

He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed her with a steely eye. “Perhaps the gentleman should bear some responsibility.”

“Please do not trouble yourself over my concern, my lord.” The last thing Dora needed was the earl confronting Tris. There’d be another duel, and she’d have more blood on her hands. “I’m certain I can manage. Alfred, are you ready?” she called to the lad trotting up to her, James right behind him, and blew out a sigh of relief.

“Yes, miss.”

“Very good, then.” She turned back to the earl, and was struck anew by how handsome he was, even in his borrowed clothes. What would he look like turned out to the nines? She gave herself a little shake to dispel that image. “I hope to return early enough for us to ride, but if not, we will have to postpone it until tomorrow and I shall see you at dinner. We dine at six o’clock in the country.”

“I shall look forward tae it.” His eyes took her in from top to toe, and she regretted the brown habit once again. “Enjoy your ride.”

Dora grinned. “Thank you, my lord. Enjoy your morning.” She touched her heel to Gretchen’s flank, and the horse dutifully broke into a trot.

“I will, Miss Harper,” he called after her.

Heading down the driveway, unable to see Lord Aberfoyle, but the back of her neck prickling, Dora tried to dismiss the idea that he was watching her ride away. Alfred was at her heels so she couldn’t very well turn around and look. But when they reached the road, she paused and shot a glance back toward the house.

Unmoving, Lord Aberfoyle still stood in the driveway, watching her.

Dora shivered. If she hesitated further, he might take that as a sign of her interest or an invitation of some sort. Urging Gretchen into a canter, she quickly passed out of his sight and could relax once more. This visit was a long-awaited treat.

****

Finn waited until Miss Harper and her groom disappeared before turning to James. “Your assistance please, lad.” He stalked around the house, heading for the stable.

“Where are you going, my lord?” The groom trotted along behind him, uncertainty in his voice.

“I’m going tae saddle one o’ Miss Harper’s wee beasts and have a trot about the estate.” Despite Miss Harper’s request that he not ride in her absence, Finn saw no reason why he shouldn’t test his ankle with a little turn around the park. They reached the stable, and he was assailed by the comforting smells of horses, leather, hay, and manure.

“But Miss Harper—”

“Miss Harper is merely trying tae devil me, lad. Tae assert her authority when it makes nae nevermind whether or no’ I ride alone.” Finn summoned all the dignity he could muster. “I wish tae have this horse saddled.” He pointed to a grand, tall beast, coal black with an intelligent eye, and glared at the groom. “Or I’ll dae it myself, lad.”

Reluctantly, the footman did as he was told, though he continued to stare at Finn, a grim look on his face.

Miss Harper’s instructions dispensed with, Finn mounted, gathered his reins. “What’s his name?”

“Hannibal, my lord.”

The groom looked none too happy, but Finn was determined to try his ankle and taste a little freedom in the process. He moved the big stallion down the driveway at a fast walk. Miss Harper still didn’t trust him, so he could understand why she wanted to ride with him. And he’d certainly have preferred riding with her. The lady sat her horse to perfection. Of course, she’d have to be an excellent horsewoman to have maneuvered them home yesterday with him unconscious. Riding well was a quality he’d always admired in women.

Still, he could not waste a whole morning in a stuffy library or picking flowers in the garden waiting for Miss Harper to return. When he presented himself and her horse this afternoon, safe and sound, perhaps she would begin to trust him a smidgeon more.

He urged his horse to a trot and winced as his ankle sent a twinge of pain up his leg. But only a twinge now. Much better than before, thank goodness. The pain level had diminished by more than half since yesterday. With an injury painful enough to cause him to pass out twice, he’d truly feared a break. Now it seemed to be mending nicely.

After trotting for some minutes, Finn pushed Hannibal into a canter. A throbbing ache appeared briefly then settled down to a dull nuisance. Encouraged, he turned off to the left lawn, where Miss Harper had directed him, and gave the horse his head. If he ran into the soldiers once on the road, he needed to be able to ride swiftly. When the trees thinned and the plowed land opened out, he’d try his hand at a gallop.

The estate was lovely, and he took a moment to look at it before it was hidden by the trees. Set well back from the front road, the manor house of orange-red brick had obviously been built in an earlier age, for it held no hint of the Palladian style currently in fashion. Still, its symmetry made it very pleasing to the eye. A curved driveway, flanked by tall trees on either side, gave the property an elegance he found restful. Somehow, it suited Miss Harper with her no-nonsense manner. Although he’d been more than a little miffed to find himself a prisoner this morning, he did understand the logic of such a precaution on her part. It hadn’t stopped him from railing against her, but she’d stood up to him, which had also pleased him. His hostess was proving a delightful companion. More than any other woman of his acquaintance, that was certain.

If only he didn’t need to leave for London. Without this devilish arrest hanging over his head, he could remain here and get to know her better. Much better, if he had his way.

Of course, if he hadn’t been arrested and escaped the soldiers, he’d likely never have met Miss Harper. Perhaps his luck hadn’t deserted him when he’d been taken by Lieutenant Scarlet after all.

He sighed and struck out through a fallow field across the road from the manor house. Perhaps on his return from London—God willing, a free man—he could return here and visit Miss Harper again. Renew their budding friendship. Despite his troubles, Finn had found himself thinking more about the young woman who’d rescued him and less about planning his journey. It had occurred to him that she was a perfectly acceptable candidate to be his wife, a thought he’d never had before. Something about the combination of kindness and a backbone of steel was wildly appealing. He’d never considered the characteristics he wanted in a wife, but now those two were at the top of the list. Along with wit, spirit, and beauty. And since Miss Harper possessed all those attributes in abundance, that made her his first choice of possible wives. Of course, his list currently had a single name.

Finn’s musings had distracted him so much he’d given Hannibal his head once more. The horse had carried him across the fallow field toward a burn Finn recognized as the one in which he’d hidden himself yesterday. That sent a nasty shock through him, and he reined the horse down to a walk and patted his neck. “Did ye want a drink o’ water, my fine fellow? I dinna blame you. ’Tis hot as Hades.” He urged the horse toward the embankment. “Here we go. Have yer drink, lad.”

The horse whinnied and jogged down the slight bank to stand in the cool water and lower his head to drink.

Finn would’ve liked to have done the same, for the August sun seemed to be shining brighter than usual and directly on him alone. But if he got down, could he get back up? Perhaps he shouldn’t have dispensed with James after all. Hannibal, a thoroughbred, stood at least sixteen, and possibly closer to seventeen, hands high. While he’d had no trouble leaping up onto Miss Harper’s horse, Gretchen was a much shorter animal. Could he perform the same feat on the bigger horse? Well, if worst came to worst, he could lower the stirrup so he could remount. Not ideal, but not an impossibility either.

When Hannibal had drunk his fill, Finn nudged him up the bank and into the shade of the trees. Finn jumped down then tied the reins to a prickly bush nearby. Taking one last look around, he moved cautiously back to the burn and half walked, half slid down the embankment to the swift-flowing stream. He knelt on the thick ferns at the water’s edge and scooped up a handful, relishing the cool drink as it slid down his throat. His ankle had ceased throbbing, so the exercise had apparently helped rather than hurt it. That boded well for him continuing his journey in the next day or so.

The thought of his imminent departure both pleased and tortured him. While he must go to London to escape the vicious Lieutenant Scarlet, he wished just as strongly to remain here, with Miss Harper. An irrational desire, but his desire, nevertheless. Folly were he to act on it. He must make his own safety and ultimately that of the earldom his priority. He must find his uncle—who would know exactly which officials to contact—and ask him to sort this whole muddle out.

What kept whirling around Finn’s head, however, was the fact that with his escape, he’d made a fool of Lieutenant Scarlet. Should he fall into the man’s clutches again, he’d most likely be summarily executed. The wild look in Scarlet’s eyes when he’d accused Finn of treason could only mean that the lieutenant would take justice into his own hands if he ever had the chance again. Never mind that it was illegal; Scarlet’s men would say nothing when they turned his body in save that Finn had been caught after escaping. Or worse, he’d be dumped in some unmarked grave and neither his uncle nor anyone else would ever know what had become of him.

That thought sent a chill down Finn’s spine. Goose walking over his grave. He shivered and stood up. He needed to return to Bromley and plan his journey tomorrow. No need to wait for his fickle luck to turn tail again. The sooner he quit this countryside, the sooner he’d be safe from Scarlet and his men.

With quick steps, he climbed the bank and freed Hannibal’s reins. He tried to slip his foot into the stirrup, but it kept sliding out. Damn, he’d have to lower it. What a time to have misjudged the matter. Retethering the horse, Finn kept listening for any sound out of the ordinary. He’d finally lowered the stirrup as low as it would go when a dull rumble, seeming to come from beneath the ground, brought his head up. Holding his breath, he tried to determine where the noise came from. He immediately recognized it as the thunder of hooves. Unmistakable when one had heard it all their lives. Curse the return of his bad luck.

The horses sounded nearer now, coming from further up the burn, likely just out of sight behind a little stand of trees. He might have time to mount, but they would surely spot him riding away for the trees were too thin to provide much more than shade. And if he hid, the presence of a horse would give him away quicker than anything else.

A sickening sensation in his stomach, Finn loosened the reins and tied them to the saddle. “Go home, Hannibal,” he whispered and slapped the horse on the rump.

The stallion threw up his head, turned, and bolted back the way they’d come.

Finn dove for the ground and wormed his way into the thicket of bushes he’d tethered the horse to earlier. With any luck, the troop would follow the stream, water their horses, and leave without checking the bushes on this side of the burn.

All Finn could do was try to make himself as invisible as possible.

And pray.