Authors: Dorothy McFalls
“What an ugly thing to say,” May hissed. Only a monster would think to stomp on her shattered heart.
No malice, only candid concern haunted his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Miss Sheffers. But it is the truth. Your uncle has a very good reason to want Lady Winifred back under his control. You stand in his way. Hence, the marriage proposal.”
“You lie.” May backed up a step. She didn’t want to hear this. To believe him would be too painful. “You claimed to be my friend. Why hurt me so?”
Radford approached, holding his arms out to her. “I am your friend. My only wish is to protect you from your uncle. Mr. Tumblestone just wants the small fortune he’s been promised . . . not you.”
“No,” May whispered as if denial could drive his words away. The thunder of hooves drowned out the nervous pattering of her heart. May’s gaze flicked over her shoulder. Uncle Sires’ crested carriage was rolling up to the cottage. The note she’d sent had promised Tumblestone a pleasant reply to his marriage proposal.
But what if Radford were telling the truth?
“No.” She returned her teary-blurred gaze to Radford’s pleading expression and shook her head from side to side, uncertain what to do—uncertain what to think, even.
She needed time.
Gathering her skirt up into one hand, May ran as fast as her short legs could carry her into the tall grasses.
* * * * *
Nothing was ever solved by running away. May should have stayed and demanded the truth from her uncle. She should have stood her ground with Radford and demanded he explain why he had kissed her with such naked passion.
Running away was the coward’s choice, and she never considered herself a coward.
Not caring about grass stains or dirt or messing the careful arrangement of her hair, she dropped on her back in the middle of the field and sprawled out on the cool ground. She stared up at the puffy clouds floating above in the deep blue sky. After a time she closed her eyes and just breathed the warm country air.
A lifetime of days in London had robbed her of such simple pleasures. She found herself enjoying the feel of the earth underneath her back and the rich, musty smell of a fertile soil. She’d grown tired of the endless balls, routs, and teas where she was largely overlooked. The bustle and excitement of a crowded city only offered disappointed dreams.
She was ready for a change.
Marriage to the tall, plump Mr. Tumblestone offered her that change. He lived a quiet, bucolic life. Even if Radford were telling the truth and he only wanted her for the money her uncle had to offer, the offer of marriage still hadn’t changed . . . nor had her feelings toward Tumblestone been altered. He was a kindly old man who offered her nothing but a stable future.
There could be no harm in accepting his suit, could there?
If only she knew what Radford had meant by saying that Uncle Sires was trying to get Aunt Winnie under his control. He wanted to provide better medical care—that much was clear. Could there be another reason for her uncle’s sudden interest in their lives?
What about her parents?
They were not dead
. May could feel the truth of it deep in her soul. They might be lost . . . but they were far from dead.
Why was her uncle so adamant about declaring dead the two people he’d once wished completely out of his sight? Why dredge up a connection he so dearly wanted to ignore?
So many questions . . .
Damn Radford all the way to the tips of his adorably arched eyebrows. He’d brought those questions to light. And worse, for a fleeting moment he’d made her feel loved. And that was what she desired most . . . to simply be loved.
Her birth and her unconventional manner frightened respectable gentlemen away. She had accepted her empty heart, had told herself that her aunt’s affection was enough, but it wasn’t.
May felt paralyzed by grief. She needed help—needed someone with whom to discuss those unanswerable questions.
A hot wind blew in her face, tickling her nose. The crunch of nearby grasses warned her she was no longer alone. The skin on her back prickled as she realized someone was silently watching her.
How dare an interloper sneak up without a word of warning! A flood of harsh words filled her troubled mind. They would have spewed past her lips if she hadn’t realized what a shocking picture she must have made lying flat on her back with her legs and arms sprawled out at the most absurd angles.
Gracious, whoever was watching her must think her mad.
With no hope to preserve her dignity, May pried her eyes open. A great brown nose attached to a strange, long face slowly came into focus. It snorted, spraying her with its hot breath.
May bolted up. A scream strangled in her throat.
Chapter 16
“Gone? What do you mean, gone?”
Lyles, Radford’s stable manager, wrung his cap in his grubby hands and danced from foot to foot, apparently at a loss for intelligible words. The man’s strange behavior did nothing to sooth Radford’s already foul temper.
The simple task of warning May had turned into a complete disaster. The memory of her running away with fresh tears filling her eyes tore at his heart. He’d charged after her, of course. But his leg had collapsed under the strain. After taking a hard tumble to the ground, he’d conceded defeat.
Instead of befriending her, he had kissed her. He was naught but a blasted fool . . . a blasted, besotted fool.
Wynter had been right, again.
His knuckles ached for the chance to beat his friend’s smug face into the ground. And since Wynter was nowhere to be found, Lyles unfortunately became only too convenient a target. He took a broad step toward the quivering man.
“Speak up. What do you mean she’s gone?”
“She-she must have jumped the fence, m’lord. I’ve searched the countryside for her. She’s nowhere to be found.”
Just like Wynter.
“Blast it, what am I paying you for? I thought you understood her importance. You were supposed to watch her. You were supposed to guard her.” He slammed his fist into his open palm. Years of hard work and dreaming were slipping away. His life, his wants and desires were harder to hold on to than the fairy-footed maiden, May Sheffers. “Someone must have taken her, damn it.”
Lyles paled considerably. “I took great care, m’lord. No one went near her. I swear it, no one.”
* * * * *
May scrambled up into an awkward sitting position. Her breath hitched in her throat. Those shiny hooves, just inches from her chest, looked so large. One wrong move could startle the curious beast and her powerful legs. Even if the animal meant her no harm, May could be crushed under its weight just the same.
“That’s a gentle Princess.” May forced the whisper past the lump of fear lodged in her throat. “You don’t want to hurt me. You must have come looking for your Lord Evers.” She could only imagine Radford’s worry. This young filly had given him nothing but trouble and yet May had clearly recognized the dreamy gleam in his eyes when he gazed on his beautiful beast.
Princess tossed her head and snorted.
Heaven’s above, she’s going to kill me
! May’s heart skittered to a stop as her gaze latched onto those hooves again.
Fate sure had a knack for painful irony. She’d stumbled into love only to have another offer her marriage—only to have the man she loved crush her heart. And now his horse was poised to finish her off.
In her grief May might have lain down and given Princess free rein to stomp her to bits. Yet concern for Aunt Winnie wouldn’t allow her to simply give up. She had to fight and be strong despite the hollow pains piercing her heart. Despite all that was rational, Aunt Winnie resisted Uncle Sires’ offer to let him take care of her. May needed to find out why.
Was Radford telling the truth or just trying to hurt her?
“Please, Princess,” May said, feeling a shade braver. She gently nudged the velvety nose that continued to hover all too close to her head. “Please, don’t be startled and stamp me into the ground when I try and stand.”
It took all her daring to get out from under the horse—most dredged from long ago feelings tucked away after scores of sleepless nights, worrying why her parents didn’t love her enough to return to their only child. May drew a deep breath and slowly rose to her feet.
She brushed off her gown. It was ruined. The burgundy silk was smudged with grass stains and dirt. Portia would scold and work for hours trying to salvage the material. But like May’s, the gown’s future looked grim.
Princess nudged May’s shoulder, reminding her that she still wasn’t out of danger. Unlike the other day, there were no leading reins hanging from Princess’ halter. More to the point, the beast wasn’t wearing a halter.
She was as wild and free as the summer wind.
May backed away from the horse, hoping to increase the distance between them and eventually escape. For each step May took, Princess took an equally measured stride. After several minutes of stepping in one direction and then another only to find herself leading Princess in a stiff dance, May gave up all hope for it.
The horse was lost and looking for a friendly face. Who was May to deny the poor thing?
“You might as well follow along,” she said. Through the fields, across a delicately arched bridge, and up the gentle Sion Hill lay Longbranch House, Radford’s home. Leading his prize filly home was the only honorable thing to do.
Besides, somewhere in the back of her mind May dreaded returning to her little cottage and her uncle’s scowls.
What in blazes could she say to explain her behavior? She’d run off without a word to anyone. Once again, her hot gypsy blood had led her to mischief.
* * * * *
“I just hope you will not attempt to display that dry wit of yours tonight,” Lady Evers said as she settled into a settee in the drawing room. A moment before, Jeffers had delivered a pot of piping hot tea to the room, sniffed haughtily, and quietly slipped out with a glower tugging down the corners of his lips.
Radford declined the tea and barely acknowledged his mother. His thoughts were still on his missing filly. Teams of men were out searching, literally beating down the tall grasses, for her. If not for his injuries, he too would be out riding through the fields. Like a hobbled pony, he was stuck listening to his mother prattle happily about his future.
“Well?” his mother said sharply. “Do I have it or not?”
“I beg your pardon, Mother.” Radford sighed when he realized he didn’t have a clue what she was asking him. “Do you have what?”
“Really, Radford. I do worry that your war injuries have addled your mind. You have been acting so strangely since returning home from that dreadful place. Will you please attend to me?”
Radford gave a curt nod and pushed his thoughts of Princess out of his head.
“Very good. Now, as I was saying . . . Do I have your word that you will behave like a complete gentleman tonight? No more jests about not wishing to marry Lady Lillian?”
Ah, so she’d been schooling him on how to ask for a lady’s hand in marriage. Radford ground his jaw and stood. He walked, letting the cane take the weight off his damaged foot, and crossed the room to stand in front of the large floor-to-ceiling window.
A figure in the distance caught his attention. Amber curls bounced with a delightful dishevel. Tempting hips swayed as May sauntered up the road. A gentle smile brightened her pursed lips.
What in blazes? Radford blinked twice to convince himself his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Princess, his errant filly, followed behind May like a truant pupil, wagging her head from side to side with each easy stride.
Lyles rushed out and greeted May, his arms gesturing wide arcs. Like a dark cloud passing in front of the sun, May’s smile faded. She glanced nervously toward the house. Radford stepped away from the window.
“Do you intend to ignore me completely? Is this how you aim to honor your mother and all I have endured?”
“I should go down to her,” he muttered. His mother’s shrill voice barely registered in his head. His thoughts were so completely wrapped around the sight of May that everything else in his life disappeared—especially his injuries. “How in blazes did she manage to bewitch my horse?”
“Radford! Attend me this instant!”
He turned in response to the shout. His mother had risen from the settee. She floated across the room like an angered specter. “What is distracting you? What do you see?”
Her eyes narrowed as she peered out the window. “Who is that dreadful-looking young woman? Something about her seems familiar.”
Dreadful? The sight of May’s pretty form added new colors and a new depth to the world. How could anyone describe such a miracle as dreadful?
“You met her the other day,” Radford said rather stiffly. “She is Miss May Sheffers.”
“Sheffers? I don’t know that name.”
“She is a friend of Lady Lillian’s.”
His mother’s brows furrowed further. “And what is she doing here . . . without a proper escort . . . and looking as wild as a hoyden? Certainly she will not seek to speak with you.”
He could only hope.
Lyles had draped a loose rein over Princess’ neck. He pointed toward the house, no doubt inviting her inside. May raised her hands in front of her and stepped back.
She didn’t want to see him.
How could he blame her? He’d confused her with his brash kiss and then clumsily blurted out why she shouldn’t marry that money-hungry Tumblestone. Of course she refused to believe him. Only a fool would believe a tale presented so callously.
She thinks you want her for your bed
.
“There is nothing improper about Miss Sheffers,” Radford explained to his mother. The elfin princess was far too proper to even consider becoming his mistress. If only there were some other way . . .
The marriage list he and Wynter had created burned in his pocket. There was no need to retrieve it and review the qualifications he required from a wife. The words were seared in his head. He could recite them in his sleep.
According to every point on that list, May was ineligible. She could never make a proper wife.
Lady Lillian could.
“She won’t come up.” Remaining a passive observer and watching her turn away from the house was the hardest thing Radford had ever done. “I don’t believe she wants even a crumb of my friendship.”
“As well she shouldn’t.” Lady Evers breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s shocking enough to see her appear at your door like that.”
“I believe she found my horse.” Something precious inside him spiraled down into a bleak hole. “I owe her a debt of gratitude. She’s afraid of horses, you see.”
“Your horse, Radford? The spirited, wild filly that attacked your affianced? I thought we agreed you would get rid of that troublesome beast.”
“I didn’t agree to any such thing.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. His gaze followed May as she retreated. He found it impossible to turn away from the window and the sight of her delightful swaying gait.
His mother’s gaze bounced between the window and Radford. “Oh dear,” she said quietly, “I really must do something about this.”
“About what, Mother?” he asked. His thoughts returned to that cursed list. Something felt fundamentally wrong about it. But perhaps it wasn’t the list at all. Perhaps there was something fundamentally wrong
with him
.
Even if he were to throw propriety and logic to the wind and dash after May to declare undying love, nothing would change. She spurned his friendship, his offers to help, his overtures for passion. Her rejection kept him planted firmly in the drawing room.
A man so broken, so confused about his worth in life, could never hope to lure a fey spirit like May’s into his soul. She deserved a man with the ability to unlock the gilded cage that held her. She deserved to soar with the clouds.