Princess Charming (9 page)

Beaufort did not seem to notice their dishabille, though. No doubt because he was accustomed to seeing females in various stages of undress.

“Will you introduce me to these lovely young ladies, Miss Collyer?”

She complied. “These are my stepsisters, Hannah and Lucy Collyer.”

He offered them a bow and a charming smile. “A pleasure to meet you, ladies.”

Both girls were clearly awestruck by his attentions and by his stylish elegance. He wore a burgundy riding coat, buff breeches, and shining black boots, attire that molded his broad shoulders and long legs to perfection.

Hannah sat staring at him, tongue-tied, while Lucy giggled again.

It
was
rather disturbing, Maura thought in sympathy, having a noble rake of his caliber in their breakfast room. Even so, she was a fool to let Lord Beaufort affect her so. She didn’t even know why he was there. On second thought …

I think you and Ash may be meant for each other
.

Remembering Katharine’s declaration last night, Maura pressed her lips together. The suspicion that her friend was bent on matchmaking filled her with dismay. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about just now.

Her first inclination was to be rid of the marquis as soon as possible, but apparently he had other ideas.

“Pray, do not rush yourself, Miss Collyer,” Beaufort said easily as he pulled out a chair across from her and settled in it. “It is a lady’s prerogative to keep a gentleman waiting. However, you could offer me breakfast. The ball ran so late, I didn’t rise in time to dine this morning before our ride.”

Maura’s eyebrows shot up at his boldness in inviting himself to eat at their table, but while she debated how to answer, Lucy broke in.

“Yes, please do join us, my lord,” the girl implored. “Our mama will be enraptured to meet you.”

That reminder settled the issue for Maura. She had no desire to have Beaufort’s escort on her morning
ride, but she urgently wanted to get him out of the house before her stepmother appeared and made him a captive audience.

Setting down her napkin, Maura rose with alacrity. “His lordship will have to meet Mrs. Collyer at some other time, Lucy. We should go, my lord. You won’t want to keep your horse standing.”

He had provoked her into letting him accompany her, and the smile in his eyes suggested he knew it. When she stood waiting impatiently for him, Beaufort rose also and snagged an apple from the bowl of fruit on the table before following Maura from the room.

She held her tongue as she hastened to collect her gloves and hat from the footman at the front door, not wanting to argue in front of Priscilla’s servants. Then she quickly led the marquis outside and down the steps to the street, where her mount was being held by a groom.

Yet when Beaufort asked in that amused tone of his, “What is the hurry, Miss Collyer?” Maura explained in a low undervoice. “Even if you are an unwanted guest, you don’t deserve to be subjected to my stepmother. She would toady you to death.”

“Your effort to spare me is much appreciated,” he murmured in return, “although it wounds me to be considered unwanted.”

Refraining from replying, Maura allowed the groom to aid her into her sidesaddle while Beaufort mounted his own horse, a splendid bay gelding. When she urged her mount down the street, he fell in step beside her.

“But you
are
unwanted, Lord Beaufort,” she continued when they were out of earshot. “I am only letting you come along because it will save me having to take
one of Priscilla’s grooms. I would rather not have her know my business, and her servants usually report back to her.”

His mouth curved wryly. “Even more wounding, being relegated to the role of servant.” When that got no rise out of her, he commented further. “Surely, you can venture out of the house on your own, Miss Collyer. I would not have expected you to fear for your reputation.”

“I don’t fear for mine,” Maura said honestly. “But I have my stepsisters’ reputations to think of. Besides, my stepmother may not like having to spare a groom, but she dislikes even more having me ride about London without one. And since I am living in her home at present, I try to accede to her wishes.”

She said nothing further as she turned the corner onto a busier street.

“Where are we riding?” Beaufort asked after a moment of negotiating various carriages and wagons and pedestrians.

“Don’t you know?” Maura countered archly. “You concocted this pretense of a prior appointment.”

“I thought to leave the choice to you.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

“Indeed, it was.”

When he offered her a winning smile, Maura’s defenses went on full alert. Lord Beaufort was as charming as the very devil, but she couldn’t afford the distraction of an irresistible rake just now.

Still, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him, noting his tall, muscular elegance as he sat his powerful mount with ease. She knew he was a bruising rider from summers and holidays visiting Katharine and Skye at their
family estates, and undeniably his accomplishments as a horseman impressed her. Yet she felt far too self-conscious around Beaufort, no doubt because of those disturbing kisses of his … and because of his sister, too.

Reminded of Katharine’s threat to throw them together, Maura felt a renewed surge of mortification. She was not one to shrink from a conflict, however, and so decided to be frank. “You have not explained why you invited yourself to ride with me, Lord Beaufort. You are here in order to placate Katharine, are you not? She said last night that she would convince you to help me, but I told her I didn’t need your help.”

“I did not need convincing. I planned to intervene even before she pleaded with me.”

“I do
not
want her dragging you into my affairs,” Maura declared in frustration.

“Are you always a termagant at this hour of the morning?” he asked, surveying her.

His simple question brought her up short. Whatever Beaufort’s faults, he did not deserve to be treated rudely.

Maura sighed. “Not always. I did not sleep well last night.”

“That is understandable. Let me guess. You spent much of the night fretting and plotting a new course of action to save your stallion.”

She had plotted, yes, although she had not come up with any concrete ideas to rescue Emperor from the viscount’s clutches.

“Fortunately, I am here to discuss a plan,” Beaufort announced amiably.

“You needn’t go to such trouble.”

“I expected that exact response from you. According to Kate, you are too proud to ask for help.”

Maura shot him an exasperated look. “And here I thought she was supposed to be my friend.”

“Oh, she is. She is merely concerned for you, and rightly so.”

“Perhaps, but you have no reason to concern yourself with me.”

He gave her a long, considering look. “Why are you so resistant to my involvement? Other than your pride, that is.”

Maura managed a shrug. “It is embarrassing, having a man who is practically a stranger privy to my private affairs.”

“Why, because you care for my good opinion?”

His unexpected query surprised a fleeting smile from her. “Surely you can understand why last night was mortifying for me.”

“Because you don’t like being in a position of weakness.”

“Well, yes. I imagine you would not either.”

“True. If Deering had propositioned me as he did you, we would be meeting over pistols at dawn.”

Maura could well believe it. Even though dueling was illegal, the Wildes were known to use pistols to settle their controversies, which had resulted in more than one blood feud to enliven their family history.

“I don’t intend to shoot him,” she muttered, “much as I would like to.”

“Yet you are obviously not thinking clearly, Miss Collyer,” Beaufort pressed. “If you allow me to join forces with you, it will strengthen your position.
Deering will think twice if he knows he has to deal with me.”

Her gaze fixed intently on him. “Will your involvement make him return my horse to me?”

“Not alone, no. But I can help you develop a strategy to fight him, one that is not so haphazard as the vague plan you are pursuing to buy back your stallion.”

When Maura remained mute, Beaufort prodded her further. “I gather you mean to approach Deering this morning.”

“If I can find him.”

“Is that wise so soon after the contretemps last night?”

“Perhaps not,” she conceded.

“Have you arranged to meet him?”

“No.”

“So you intend to attempt an ambush. You aren’t worried he will repeat his offer to make you his mistress?”

“Hyde Park is a public enough place. I doubt he would proposition me again in front of witnesses. And I won’t allow myself to be caught alone with him again.”

“But what do you hope to accomplish?”

Realizing Beaufort would not give up his questioning until his curiosity was satisfied, Maura gave in. “As galling as it would be, I may have to apologize for unmanning him last night.”

She saw Beaufort’s lips twitch. “I didn’t think you fancied eating crow for breakfast.”

Her own lips twisted in an unwilling smile. “I don’t, but I am willing to swallow my pride for the sake of
my horse. I mean to try one more time to persuade Deering to sell Emperor. Barring that, I will ask him to return Emperor to my farm, or at least to one of his own estates in the country. It is a reasonable request. Emperor is highly nervous in London traffic, and Deering is known as a ham-handed rider. He is treating a champion racehorse like a common hack, riding him in a busy park. Any idiot would know better.”

“True, but you underestimate Deering if you think him a complete idiot. He is merely excessively vain. No doubt he hopes to increase his prestige by showing off his new prize possession before the ton.”

Maura found herself grinding her teeth again, and her voice dropped to a low growl. “I suspect he also wants to broadcast his victory over me. He enjoys rubbing salt in my wounds,” she added with a touch of bitterness.

Beaufort thought about that for a moment before asking another question. “Just how do you know what Deering’s riding customs are?”

“I told you, my steward Gandy has connections.”

“Ah, you have a spy in his stables.”

Maura blushed to have her underhanded methods exposed, but she’d deemed it necessary to fight fire with fire. “Something like that. Emperor is stabled in the mews behind Deering’s home, and some of the grooms there are former colleagues of Gandy’s, and so are willing to keep him informed.”

“I am surprised Gandy is not here to help you deal with the problem.”

“He originally came with me to London, but he couldn’t remain long because it is prime foaling season.”

“Then you have all the more reason to welcome my support.”

Maura bit back a sigh. Beaufort’s forceful personality was much like his sister’s; opposing him would be like trying to resist a powerful storm.

Her conclusion was proved right with his next words.

“Regardless of your stubborn pride, Miss Collyer, I intend to offer my unwanted advice. You are letting anger and grief cloud your judgment. You need someone with a cooler head to help you formulate a new plan.”

He sounded eminently logical and rational, drat him.

“If you have half the intelligence I credit you with,” he added for good measure, “you will allow me to help.”

Maura fell silent, acknowledging the truth of his observation. She would be foolish not to at least consider his offer.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked cautiously.

“Your best course is to gain some leverage over Deering, something that will force him to sell.”

She didn’t reply, and Beaufort said nothing more, doubtless deciding to let her think about his advice. They reached the entrance to Hyde Park a short while later. Maura kept her eyes peeled for Deering, but there was no sign of him.

She and Beaufort cantered their horses along Rotten Row, the wide thoroughfare beside the Serpentine Lake, which was flanked by trees that had leafed the lovely green of spring. After a time, though, Maura began to fret with impatience and frustration. Where
was Deering? Would he even come? And would he be riding Emperor?

She had just dropped back into a walk when she drew a sudden breath, having spied her beloved horse in the distance.

She would recognize that powerfully muscled form anywhere, but Emperor was unique in other ways: the elegant head, the kind eye, the sleek black coat that held no trace of white except for a small star on his forehead, and most of all the lively, mischievous temperament. Her horse had a vivid personality all his own.

His rider was indeed Lord Deering, Maura saw as she moved closer. She quickened her pace, even though realizing the viscount had paused beside a landau to speak to the occupant. Her heart sank when she spied the long whip Deering carried and the sharp spurs he wore.

The stallion obviously recognized Maura in return, for he abruptly lifted his head and let out a piercing whinny before breaking into a trot and heading in her direction. In response, Deering hauled on the reins, sawing the bit against Emperor’s tender mouth and digging those wicked spurs into his flanks. Not surprisingly, the horse laid back his ears, resenting the savage treatment.

Then the nobleman raised the whip. Maura went cold, watching helplessly as the leather weapon came down hard on the stallion’s rump again and again. Giving a small cry, she spurred her own mount forward, but after two more blows, Emperor began combating the beating, rounding his back and giving a violent buck that sent the viscount flying.

Free of his tormentor, the stallion raced toward Maura, seeking her protection. When she pulled up, breathing erratically, he came to a skidding halt before her and stood trembling.

Clamping down on her fury in order to croon soft words to him, she reached down and caught the reins, then stroked the stallion’s sleek neck, trying to calm him with her touch and her voice.

By now Deering had picked himself up off the ground and was stalking toward them. His hat was missing, but he still held the whip and his face was livid. He was clearly enraged that the stallion had made him look foolish and inept in front of his riding colleagues and the Marquis of Beaufort, who had ridden up beside Maura.