Princess Charming (10 page)

When Deering reached them, he raised the whip again, brandishing it at the stallion, who shied in fear.

Appalled, Maura sputtered a fierce command to stop. “Don’t you dare hit him again!”

Deering turned his rage on her. “I have every right to punish my own horse!”

Holding the whip high, he moved in for another assault, but Maura intervened, desperately stretching down and snatching the whip from his gloved hands.

Deering was not deterred, however, but drew back his fist, aiming for the stallion’s defenseless face.

With another cry, Maura brought the whip down across the nobleman’s shoulders, making him flinch in startled pain.

She might have continued, but suddenly felt herself being lifted completely out of her sidesaddle. Beaufort had hauled her off her horse and set her before him on his own mount, to prevent her from attacking the viscount further.

Breathing heavily, she sat glaring at Deering, who had spun to face her and was glaring back.

“You bloody she-devil,” he gritted out. “How dare you strike me!”

“I was only giving you a taste of your own medicine!” she retorted. “How do
you
like being beaten and abused, your lordship?”

When he took a threatening step toward her, Beaufort’s sharp command rang out. “That is quite enough, Deering.”

Heeding the warning in the marquis’s tone, the viscount stopped. Then he looked around him, realizing they had a shocked audience. Activity in the entire park had come to a halt, with all the nearby occupants avidly watching the spectacle.

Just then the viscount’s acquaintance in the landau drove up to join them. Taking stock, the distinguished elderly gentleman voiced disapproval. “I say, Deering, there was no call to hit the horse so savagely. Especially such a magnificent animal.”

At the rebuke, the viscount’s face turned a different shade of red, this one resembling embarrassment rather than rage.

Maura agreed wholeheartedly with the reprimand. She wanted to dismount and comfort her still-frightened horse, but Beaufort’s arm was wrapped firmly around her, pinning her against him.

He evidently knew the elderly gentleman, for he spoke with familiarity. “Lord Pelham, perhaps you can help relieve this awkward situation by letting us borrow your tiger for a short while.”

Maura turned her head to eye the lad perched at the rear of the landau, noting his ornate livery.

When Pelham raised quizzical eyebrows, Beaufort explained his suggestion. “If you are amenable, your lad can lead the stallion back to his stables while you take Deering up in your carriage.”

“Yes, of course,” Pelham agreed. “An excellent notion.”

When Maura would have protested this Solomon-like judgment, Beaufort’s arm tightened about her, keeping her still as he addressed the viscount. “As soon as I return home, I will send one of my grooms to check on the stallion, to be certain he has suffered no ill effects.”

“That will not be necessary,” Deering said tightly.

“Even so, I should like to relieve Miss Collyer’s mind, and my own as well.”

The hard warning note in Beaufort’s voice was back, and Deering must have heard it, for he nodded once, resentfully signaling his acquiescence.

In short order, the plan was put into effect. To Maura’s relief, Lord Pelham’s tiger approached the stallion quietly and calmed him with a gentle touch before drawing the reins over his head to lead him toward the park entrance.

Neither of the main combatants was satisfied, however. Deering, Maura knew, had again been humiliated before witnesses in a brawl with her, while she was forced to watch impotently as her precious horse was taken away.

With one final glare at her, Deering climbed into Pelham’s landau and drove off. The spectators eventually disbanded, but Maura sat with her fists clenched as despair and guilt welled up to join her fury.
She
was at fault for this latest explosion with Deering. She had
wanted to save her horse, not expose him to more suffering. Innocent animal that he was, Emperor had only been trying to greet her and had received a vicious beating for his pains.

Remembering the blows he had endured, Maura felt the burn of tears sting her eyes.

Beaufort evidently sensed her distress, for he reached up to touch her chin and turn her face up to his. “Why are you crying?”

“I am
not
crying!” she muttered.

“I have a sister and a female cousin, remember? When a woman protests so vehemently, the opposite is usually true.”

She dashed her tears away and swallowed hard. “You are insufferable, Lord Beaufort.”

“So Katharine and Skye tell me. But that doesn’t explain your tears. I expected better of you.”

His jibe made Maura’s spine stiffen. “I am upset because I meant to hold my temper and address Deering diplomatically when I encountered him.”

“And instead you only made matters worse by striking him and berating him in front of his peers.”

“Yes,” she mumbled, hanging her head. “I should have been able to protect Emperor.”

“You will.” Beaufort’s tone had become softer, genuinely reassuring, and so were his eyes, she discovered when she looked up again. For a moment she found herself caught in those emerald depths …

Realizing suddenly that she was sitting on his lap with his arm locked around her, Maura shifted uneasily. “You can release me now, my lord.”

“I intend to, once you are calmer.”

“I
am
calm.”

He looked dubious and hesitated to do as she asked.

“Set me down, I say,” Maura said more sternly. “You are causing a spectacle.”

Beaufort’s mouth curved. “You dare to accuse
me
of causing a spectacle after that little drama you just enacted? You could be an honorary Wilde.” When she failed to appreciate the compliment, his smile faded. “I am preventing you from doing something you will regret, my little hothead. You would do better to use your wits. You need to be cool and unemotional whenever you confront Deering.”

“I cannot possibly be unemotional with him.”

“My point exactly.”

She didn’t want to hear Beaufort’s logical arguments, but she couldn’t ignore them either. “Will you truly send your groom to look after Emperor?”

“I said so, did I not? I am a man of my word.”

That was some consolation at least.

Meeting his level gaze, Maura gave in with reluctance. Fighting the Marquis of Beaufort in public would only result in another scene that could be detrimental to her cause of rescuing her horse, and to her stepsisters as well. As it was, she would have a lot to make up for. Priscilla would be livid when she heard about this morning’s confrontation with Deering.

When Maura nodded, Beaufort set her on her own horse, but appropriated her reins before she gathered her wits enough to realize what he was doing.

“Where are you taking me?” she protested as he led her from the park.

“Somewhere you can expend some of your anger.”

“This is becoming a vexing habit of yours, Lord Beaufort.”

“You don’t say.”

“Let me have my reins,” she insisted.

“Not yet. I don’t trust you not to do something idiotic.”

“What is this, an abduction?” Her voice turned exasperated as well as frustrated. “Do you mean to constrain me against my will?”

“If I must.” When he glanced back at her, his green eyes held amusement. “I intend to save you from yourself, sweet vixen. Now hush and behave long enough for us to leave the park.”

He sounded every inch the imperious nobleman, expecting instant obedience; he was a marquis, after all. And he was clearly giving her no choice but to accompany him.

His dispassionate behavior was one small consolation, Maura supposed. His sister might be trying to matchmake for him, but thankfully Beaufort did not seem interested in romance in the least.

With a sigh of resignation scraping past her tight throat, she allowed herself to be led away while trying to ignore the interested stares of the nearby park-goers.

Ash led a
silent, brooding Miss Collyer out of the city, heading southwest toward Richmond. Once they reached the countryside, he returned her reins to her, since she seemed to have regained control of her militant emotions.

Ash maintained a similar silence during the ride, contemplating the odd amalgam of his own emotions. Upon watching Maura come to her horse’s defense, he’d felt a fierce anger on her behalf, as well as an outsized protectiveness. And now that the physical threat was past, he could only shake his head in amusement and admiration.

She was indeed one of a kind. He doubted even his feisty, headstrong sister would have assaulted a nobleman in a public park with his own riding whip, despite the sore provocation.

If he hadn’t been eager to champion Maura’s cause before, her actions just now would have convinced him. She was fearless, a tenacious fighter, but she badly needed a pacifying influence to curb her reckless impulses
before her fiery passions landed her in even deeper trouble.

Ash’s mouth curved as he glanced at the beautiful hellion riding beside him. To think that
he
would be bent on keeping anyone
out
of trouble.

His ironical smile faded just as suddenly when he recalled the Wilde family conference last night, when Katharine had claimed to have found his perfect match. It was a jolt for Ash to realize that she had a point: Maura Collyer could indeed prove a compatible mate for him.

She was passionate, opinionated, tart-tongued, and prone to violence—just the sort of spirited female who most appealed to him. The kind who either fascinated or frightened men. And he was wholly fascinated.

That didn’t necessarily mean he wanted her for his bride, Ash rationalized. He wasn’t
that
smitten as to offer for her hand in marriage on so tenuous an acquaintance. But as much as he hated to admit it, perhaps his sister was right. He ought to at least
explore
the possibility that Maura Collyer could be his ideal match.

Seeing her glance wistfully at the fields flanking the road, Ash corralled his distracted thoughts.

“Shall we ride cross-country?” he asked.

When she quickly nodded in agreement, they left the main road and turned onto a country lane. As soon as they reached a grassy meadow, Maura guided her horse over a ditch and broke into a full gallop. Ash had to urge his bay for a burst of speed just to keep up with her.

Eventually they slowed, then dropped to a walk to cool off their mounts. Maura seemed reluctant to turn
back, however, for the verdant meadow where they rode now was covered with spring wildflowers, and the warm sunshine beating down upon them seemed to soothe her.

After a time they stopped beside a stream to let their horses drink. No doubt they were trespassing on some farmer’s property, for they’d passed occasional barns and cottages and pastures populated by grazing livestock, but they were shielded from civilization now by a copse of sun-dappled willows.

To Ash’s surprise, Maura dismounted without his help and pulled off her gloves. Then, unpinning her feathered shako hat, she knelt beside the stream and splashed water on her face, perhaps to erase any remaining sign of tears.

When she was done, she didn’t rise. Instead she sank back upon the grassy slope and sat with her arms wrapped around her updrawn knees, staring at the bubbling stream.

Ash swung down also and left his horse to graze as he joined her on the grass. Her face was still wet, he noted, while damp tendrils of honey-blond hair that had escaped her chignon clung to her forehead and cheeks. When silently he handed her his handkerchief, she took it without comment.

“Why are you being so nice?” she finally asked in a low voice. “You should be scolding me for not heeding your advice.”

“I expect you are scolding yourself enough for the both of us.”

“I am,” she said despairingly. “I have certainly ruined any chance of buying back my horse, and much
worse, put him in actual danger. Deering may very well take his vindictiveness out on Emperor.”

“I doubt he would seriously hurt so valuable an animal,” Ash said reassuringly, although he wasn’t wholly convinced himself. “But you have indeed complicated matters.”

Heaving a sigh, Maura lay back on the grass and covered her eyes with her arm. “I have no excuse for letting my temper get the best of me, especially not when it could result in harm to my horse. It’s just that my best intentions always go awry when it comes to dealing with that detestable man.”

“It’s understandable why you would hate him if you believe he murdered your father,” Ash offered.

“I suppose he isn’t solely to blame for my father’s death,” she said with great reluctance. “It was partly my fault also.”

Ash frowned as he glanced down at her. “Why would you say so?”

“If I hadn’t loved Emperor so much, Papa would not have been so adamant about refusing to sell him. And if he’d been willing to sell, Deering never would have accused him of cheating. That is my lifelong regret … that my father died with a cloud of dishonor hanging over him. The doctors said the distress and humiliation strained his already weak heart.…” She paused, as if struggling against tears, and beneath her concealing arm, he could see her lower lip trembling. “Papa’s heart broke from shame, and I might have prevented it.”