The Reluctant Debutante (10 page)

From behind her, someone yelled, “Runaway buggy!”

Ginger turned in time to see the out-of-control horse and buggy, along with its frightened passengers, hurtling down the street. From her position on the box she saw Joseph approaching her, directly in the line of the buggy, and her heart clenched. She yelled out to him as she jumped from the box and into his hard body. The collision of their two bodies knocked them out of the path of immediate danger.

She opened her eyes just as the horse and buggy smashed into the box on which she had been standing. Wrapped in a solid pair of arms, they rolled out of harm’s way as the runaway buggy hurled past, mere inches away. She looked up into Joseph’s dark brown eyes, and fainted.

• • •

The sweet scent of hay wafted into her nostrils as she struggled to regain consciousness.

“There, there, little one,
ma petite
. Crazy
zhaagnash
. You are all right.”

The soothing sounds were murmured like a chant. A cool damp cloth was laid across her forehead.

She opened her eyes and looked at Joseph. For a long minute, they merely stared at each other. Ginger’s heartbeat escalated with every second their eyes were locked. Neither spoke or broke their gaze. When she knew she would explode if she didn’t move, she finally lowered her eyes and struggled to pull herself up.

“Where am I?”

Joseph helped her to a sitting position, and then leaned her back against the stall.

“You are in the livery, with my horses. What were you doing standing on top of a box in your underclothes in broad daylight?”

She squirmed as his bold gaze took in her scantily clad body. His touch as he helped her to sit up had heated her body, but his eyes raking over her barely clothed form scorched every inch of it. She struggled to breathe. How was it that she could consider herself adequately dressed in her bloomers as she stood on a soapbox in the middle of a busy street, but here, alone with Joseph, she felt like a wanton strumpet? She turned away from his gaze.

“I, uh, I was trying to advance the cause of women’s rights. And, if I hadn’t been on the soapbox, we would right now be picking up your body parts from under the wheels of that buggy. So, you’re welcome.”

Joseph swore softly under his breath, in a language unfamiliar to her.

“What language is it you are speaking? I know a thing or two about the French language, and it doesn’t sound like any French I’ve ever been taught. What is zhaag ... whatever you said?”

Joseph’s eyes narrowed as he sidestepped her question. “Do your parents know where you are?”

“Of course not. What kind of fool do you take me for? And what is zhaag … whatever that word was?”

“It is a phrase we use in St. Louis.” Again he tried to circumvent her questions. “Where did you leave your skirt and petticoats? I will go retrieve them so you can properly clothe yourself and return to your home.”

“In the alley, near where I was standing. Of course, someone could have already taken them.”

“Stay here and I will go fetch them.”

Ginger struggled to get to her feet, but was still unsteady. Joseph knelt by her side, his arms holding her in position.

“Stay seated and do not move until I get back. Do you understand?”

She looked up at the chiseled face, so near to hers that she could reach out and touch it. Her fingers tingled at the possibility and she gulped in an unsteady breath.

“You won’t tell my mother, will you? Or Basil? If they knew what I was doing, I’d be in serious trouble.”

“No, I will not tell them you were here,” Joseph’s voice changed to a gentle tone. “And it is quite possible that if you had not thrown yourself on me, I could have suffered serious injuries, so I am grateful you were.”

Ginger laid her head back against the stall boards and took a deep breath. “Thank you for your silence. I owe you.”

Joseph groaned. “Now you sound like Basil. You owe me nothing but to behave yourself and stop parading around in public in your bloomers.”

Joseph’s hair was caught up loosely at the nape of his neck and tied with a thin strip of leather. Several strands had worked their way loose from the tie and were brushing his cheek. Ginger reached out a tentative hand to him, and ran her fingers down his long black hair. At her touch, Joseph flinched and grabbed her hand.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Ginger’s stomach was doing cartwheels as her hand was caught in his. “I’ve wanted to touch your hair since our first dance together. It is unlike any hair I’ve ever seen. So black it’s almost blue, and very straight and thick.”

Joseph’s eyes blazed. “And I have wanted to do this since our first dance together.”

He seized her chin in an iron grip as he captured her lips with his. Ginger’s stomach stuttered in response to his rough, possessive kiss. Before she had time to process what was happening, he backed away, and hurried from the livery as if the very devil himself were at his heels.

• • •

Joseph stopped outside of the livery, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes, willing his stomach to calm down. It had been in an upheaval since Ginger had pushed him out of the way of the buggy in just the nick of time. His heart raced as he thought of what almost happened to him. It was not like him to be oblivious to his surroundings, but his mind had been full of Ginger at the time.

Still, it was no excuse for losing control of himself with her like he had. What evil force had taken possession of him? He never should have touched her. She was forever forbidden to him, he knew. He should have left town, as he wanted to, after the Cotillion and his first dance with Ginger. For too many weeks now, she had tormented him every time they were together. The swell of her breasts in her low-cut gown at the dinner party made him feel like a dog with his tongue hanging out. He had to force himself to look away, and then keep away, from her all evening.

And then there was the night of the opera. William Davenport had backed down without too much of an argument when Joseph made his presence known, yet he had remained by her side all evening. A hot flash of jealousy had stabbed Joseph’s chest then as he wished he could change places with William.

What was it about this one woman that made all others dull by comparison? Indian, French, white, Canadian, American. What did it matter? She was the embodiment of everything he had ever wanted or hoped for. Spirited, lively, lovely to look at. She would lead a man on a merry chase for the rest of his life, and any man would welcome the challenge. But it could not be him. It could never be him. He took several deep breaths and pushed himself away from the wall.

A few minutes later, he found Ginger’s skirt and her petticoats in the alley, where she had stashed them earlier. He tossed the garments over one broad shoulder and returned to the livery. But she wasn’t in the empty stall where he had left her. He walked to the stall that contained his most spirited stallion — and found her there. She stood beside the big, powerful animal, caressing his neck, absolutely ignorant of the potential damage a horse of this magnitude could do to her. Joseph’s heart began to stutter again as he considered the danger in which she had placed herself. Quietly, he approached her and put his hand on her shoulder.

She jumped, startled, and turned to him. He got a whiff of lilac, combined with the straw mingled in her hair before he backed away from her.

“What are you doing in this stall with my black? Did I not tell you to stay put? This is a most forceful animal.”

She smiled fetchingly up at him. “I wanted to see him again. Everyone is talking about the horse you’ll be racing. It’s all I hear at every blasted party I’ve been to this last week.” She turned back to the horse and brushed her hand over his mane. “But now I see all the talk is not misplaced. He is truly a magnificent specimen. Does he have a name yet?”

When Joseph shook his head, she ran her hand once more down the stallion’s black neck.

“Then I shall call him Midnight.” She turned to Joseph again, with a smile on her face. She reached up and wove her fingers into his hair. “His hair is as dark as yours. But it is more than just your hair that sets you apart. What is it about you, Joseph? You are not like any of the New York men I’ve met.”

She lost herself in his dark brown eyes, which had grown stormy.

“If you know what is good for you, you will get dressed at once and leave here, never to return,” he growled at her.

Her fingers tightened their hold on his hair and she brought his head closer to her. She whispered in his ear, “Or else what?”

“Or else, I will strip those bloomers off your beautiful body and put an end to your teasing.” He tossed her skirt and crinolines at her. “It would be best if you clean the straw from your hair before you return home. Otherwise, your mother will think I have done just that.”

He then turned on his heel, leaving the livery once again.

Ginger’s knees felt weak and her body warmed as little shivers of excitement worked their way to the very core of her being. He had threatened to ravage her! The thought left her breathless with excitement. She backed away from the magnificent steed and returned to the empty stall where she lowered her quaking body to the floor.

Well, bless my bloomers.

• • •

Ginger made her way back to her home, even though her legs were a bit shaky. She had almost lost her life today, as the runaway buggy nearly mowed Joseph and her down. But that wasn’t what was making her knees weak. Joseph had finally shown that he was as infatuated with her as she was with him. That show of emotion from him, that crack in his stern control, was all she needed. He cared for her!

She put a hand on her heart as she walked rapidly down the street to her home, skirting past Elizabeth’s house, because she had told Elizabeth’s mother hours ago that she felt unwell and was going straight home. She let herself in the back door quietly and made her way upstairs to her room, where Colleen was starching and pressing her petticoats. The maid looked up when Ginger came in.

“Hello, my wee lass. Did you have a good time at Elizabeth’s this afternoon?”

Ginger searched for a sign that the maid was on to her, but could find nothing of significance. “Could you please arrange for a bath for me, Colleen? I’m very tired.”

“Most certainly, miss. Right away.”

The water was quickly heated, and the tub filled. Ginger removed her clothing and sunk into the hot water with a sigh of true pleasure. Colleen took the pins from Ginger’s hair as she relaxed in the water, and began to brush her waist-length hair.

“What’s this, miss? How ever did you get hay in your hair?”

Ginger blushed from her toes to her hairline, grateful that the hot water had already reddened her skin a bit. She scrambled for an answer.

“Uh, I guess I must have picked it up in the livery. We went there to see the horse that Joseph is going to race in a few weeks.”

“Ah, I see,” Colleen replied, as she continued to brush Ginger’s hair.

“You see what?” Ginger prodded, wanting to make certain her story was sound.

“Well, Mr. Lafontaine is devilishly handsome, if I do say so myself.”

Ginger sat up in the tub and turned on Colleen. “That’s not why I went to the livery. I truly did want to see the horse.”

“Whatever you say, miss.”

Ginger sank back into the tub, covering her face with her hands. Her cheeks were inflamed. Colleen had seen through her feeble story too easily. Well, she would just deny it, should Colleen ever feel the need to tell Mother or the house staff of her suspicions.

But she was right. Mr. Lafontaine was a devilishly handsome man.

The Hamptons, July 2, 1855

Roslyn Harbor, eighteen miles east of New York City proper and on the north shore of Long Island Sound, was quickly becoming the summer playground of New York’s finest families. With its scenic beauty and harbor views of the Atlantic Ocean, Roslyn Harbor was the place to be seen from June through August. The newly wealthy Americans sought out land to convert into grand estates to show their peers a tangible expression of their affluence and status. They hoped their displays of wealth would reinforce or establish their place in society, and each new estate became more opulent than its neighbor.

One of these newer estate homes belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Curran, who, along with their daughter Georgiana, opened their home to their friends for the Independence Day weekend events. The estate was in the middle of a 250-acre tract of rolling farmland and woods — the perfect setting for the big horserace between Joseph Lafontaine and William Davenport, the Cavalry officer.

New Yorkers had been buzzing about the impending race for weeks, and an invitation from the Currans was one of the most sought after for the Fourth of July weekend. People not fortunate enough to receive a formal invitation planned to line the race route, as word of the big contest spread to everyone who had seen or heard about the two horses.

The rudimentary road between New York and Long Island quickly became overcrowded with carriages, as people interested in getting away for the holiday began the long trek to the harbor from the city. Joseph and Basil were on horseback, so they were able to wind their way between the many carriages, exchanging pleasantries with those less fortunate people who were stuck in the traffic.

Along the way, many men stopped the pair to study Joseph’s mount up close and to decide which horse to bet on. Women also called out to the two men, flirting outrageously with Basil and Joseph. Spirits were high as the festive weekend commenced.

Joseph had studiously avoided any contact with Ginger since his encounter with her in the livery several weeks before. It was not like him to lose control of his emotions as he had done that day. Her ability to make him throw caution to the wind surprised and tormented him. Kissing her was the worst possible thing he could have done. Not only did he break his best friend’s trust, but instead of diminishing his desire for the beautiful woman as he had hoped, it only made him long for her more. When he finally gave in and kissed her lips, he was like a drowning man who had been given a lifeline, and only Ginger could pull him to safety.