The Wild Child (17 page)

Radiating delight, she reined Moonbeam in and turned the mare to face Dominic as he approached. With her bare feet and skirt hiked to her knees, she looked a proper hoyden. But what mattered was that she looked—unafraid.

He felt a rush of pleasure at the sight. For too long she had been allowed to drift because no one expected anything of her. What might she become with the right encouragement?

Recklessly deciding to try one last hurdle, he said, “I need to ride to the home farm and talk to the steward about possible work for Jem Brown, the poacher. Will you come with me?”

The delicate color drained from her face, leaving it bone white. She started to turn Moonbeam away. He caught the mare’s bridle. “We would be leaving the park, but if we use the east gate, on the other side of that hill, we’ll never be off Warfield land. It will be a very short visit, and the only people you might see will be your employees.”

Moonbeam stirred restlessly as Meriel’s hands slackened in uncertainty. But at least she wasn’t running away.

Hopeful, he released the mare’s bridle. “I won’t force you. But if you come, I swear that you’ll be safe.”

He set Pegasus into a walk toward the east gate without looking back. There was no sound of a following horse. He released his breath, not really surprised. She’d had a demanding day already. Asking her to leave Warfield was simply too much.

Then he heard a faint jingle of harness behind him, and the rhythm of trotting hooves. He wanted to whoop aloud with pleasure. He refrained so as not to startle the horses, but he gave a welcoming smile when she brought her mount even with his.

They reached the east gate. A pair of doors set into a stone archway, it was secured with a heavy bar. Dominic dismounted to lift the bar and swing the doors open. Then he waited for Meriel to ride through. She balked. As she sat unmoving on Moonbeam’s back, he sensed the coiled tension behind her expressionless face. What seemed so simple to him—riding outside the park— was for her a barrier of shattering height. Worse than being ordered to charge a French regiment, because at least a soldier was surrounded by his fellows. Meriel looked very alone. Had been alone for most of her life. Dominic could be with her physically, but she must overcome her demons herself.

Unable to bear her inward struggle any longer, he was about to tell her he would go alone when she urged her mount forward in a slow walk. Sensing her rider’s anxiety, the mare went through the gate as warily as if she were walking on a rickety wooden bridge. But they made it. Together, they made it.

“Well done, Meriel!” Awed by her courage, he closed the door without latching it so they could return the same way. Then he remounted for the ride to the home farm. Dominic hadn’t visited before, but he knew the location from the Warfield maps. He viewed the fertile fields with pleasure as they followed a grassy lane that led to the farmstead. The steward, one John Kerr according to Mrs. Rector, knew his job.

The farmstead was laid out rather like Holliwell Grange. As they entered a yard enclosed by a rambling house and outbuildings, Dominic spotted a boy of about ten sitting on a bench outside the stables, industriously cleaning a saddle.

“Good afternoon,” Dominic said amiably. “Is Mr. Kerr available?”

The boy’s gaze went over Pegasus with approval. “He’s in the estate office, sir. I’ll get him for you.”

Then the boy saw Meriel, and his eyes widened. She was studying the farmyard with interest, but when she became aware of the child’s gaze her face shuttered.

Hardly able to tear his gaze from her, the boy went into the estate office. Dominic glanced around the yard and saw that a woman, probably Mrs. Kerr, was looking out an upper window of the house. A young girl dressed as a maid appeared at a ground floor window, and was quickly joined by another. Dominic muttered a mental oath. He should have anticipated this. Lady Meriel Grahame, the mad heiress of Warfield, must be more myth than reality in the neighborhood. Of course her dependents would be fascinated.

He tried to see her as if for the first time rather than as the girl he’d come to know. With her wild hair, eccentric costume and bare feet, and her refusal to meet anyone’s eyes, he feared that she fulfilled her reputation for lunacy. He wanted to shout that she wasn’t like that, that she was bright and perceptive and had the soul of an artist, but doing so would merely make him appear equally mad. By the time the steward emerged from the office, almost a dozen people were watching from various vantages around the farmstead. In the middle of the yard, Meriel held Moonbeam so still, they looked like a statue. Dominic kept a watchful eye on her, praying that she wouldn’t bolt under all the attention. Mr. Kerr, a solid man with shrewd eyes, said, “Would you be Lord Maxwell?”

“I am. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kerr.” Dominic offered his hand. The steward gave him a firm handshake as he studied Dominic with the interest of a man summing up a possible future employer. No doubt everyone in the neighborhood knew of “Maxwell’s” visit to Warfield. Kerr had probably been waiting for a call.

Dominic continued, “Have you ever met Lady Meriel?”

Kerr allowed his gaze to go to Meriel with unabashed interest. “We met once when Lord Amworth took me to Warfield, but I doubt she’d remember. Welcome to Swallow Farm, my lady.”

Probably when they’d met the first time she had ignored the steward as she ignored most people. She was staring across the yard now, as if willing her surroundings to vanish. But— she wasn’t running.

“Yesterday I met a young man called Jem Brown who is in dire need of work,” Dominic explained. “I took the liberty of suggesting that he call on you tomorrow. I don’t know if you can use another laborer, but he looked willing. If you don’t need him, perhaps you know someone in the area who does.”

“The haying will begin soon, so I can use more hands,” Kerr replied. “If the lad is a hard worker, there’s a place for him here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kerr. That’s very kind of you.” Dominic saw the sardonic glint in the steward’s eye at the comment. Both of them knew perfectly well that the steward would hire anyone recommended by Lady Meriel’s potential husband. Now it was up to Jem to behave himself and give up poaching. Or at least have the sense not to get caught.

“Would you like a tour of the home farm? Or the tenant farms?” Kerr offered. “The tenants would be delighted to meet you.”

“Not today, thank you.” Dominic glanced at Meriel. The sooner he got her away from here, the better. Besides, as much as he would enjoy a tour, it wouldn’t do to let a sharp-eyed fellow like Kerr get close enough to know him well. “Perhaps another time.”

After an exchange of farewells, Dominic turned his horse to leave. Instantly Meriel and Moonbeam fell into step beside him. She maintained her taut control as they walked from the farmyard. A dozen people waited outside, hungry for a glimpse of the mythical Lady Meriel. How the devil had they gotten word of her presence so quickly?

Head high and back ramrod straight, she rode past the onlookers like a queen. Dominic gave a sigh of relief. She had done it.

His relief was premature. As soon as they were clear of the farmstead and watchers, Moonbeam took off like an angry hornet. He set Pegasus in pursuit, regretting that he had coaxed Meriel into this expedition.

A barred gate crossed the lane ahead. Earlier Dominic had opened it so they could ride through. This time—dear God, she wasn’t slowing down, she was going to jump it! A tall gate, on a strange horse, and a rider who hadn’t been on horseback since she was a child. Had she done any jumping when she was so young?

He pounded after them, heart in his mouth. If Moonbeam hit the top bar, both horse and rider might break their necks.

The mare thundered headlong toward the gate. She was in a good position, she was lifting into the air…

Horse and rider soared over the gate, making a perfect landing on the other side. Torn between relief and a desire to wring Meriel’s neck, Dominic took Pegasus over the gate as well, but he didn’t catch up with her until she reached the gate to the park. There she reined in her mount and waited for him, demure as a pair of kid gloves.

“You ride like a centaur,” he said tartly. “And almost stopped my heart in the process.”

Her eyes widened with such innocence that he knew she was baiting him. Grinning, he dismounted and opened the gate. “After what you’ve achieved today, I suppose you’re entitled to your fun. But if I have gray hairs tomorrow, it will be your fault.”

She took off for home at an easy trot, her enchanting laughter floating behind her. At times like this, he was almost sure that she understood him.

* * *

When they reached the stables, Dominic dismounted from Pegasus and led him inside. Regally Meriel rode Moonbeam into the building with plenty of room to spare between her head and the ceiling.

“Just a moment and I’ll help you dismount,” he said to Meriel as he removed Pegasus’s saddle. Her brows arched with delicate scorn. He chuckled, feeling as if they were having a real conversation. “I know you can get down easily enough, sprite, but it’s time you learned how a lady behaves. You’ll enjoy being a hoyden more if you know how outrageous your conduct is.”

Though the last leg of their ride had been slow enough to cool the horses, they still needed to be rubbed down. He’d give Meriel a quick lesson. While she had servants for menial work, a true horsewoman must understand how to care for a horse herself.

He led Pegasus into the stall and temporarily threw a blanket over him. Then he went to Moonbeam and raised his arms to assist Meriel down. “I don’t suppose you were taught grooming when you were five years old, so we’ll have a lesson before dinner.”

She swung her leg over the mare, then rested her hands on his shoulders and dismounted. But she didn’t settle lightly on the ground like a seasoned gentlewoman rider. Instead, she came into his arms like a woman running to her lover. He turned rigid, instinctively catching her against him. This was not what he had intended—but dear God, she felt so good!

Torn between wanting to hold her and knowing he must let her go, he reluctantly loosened his grip. A proper lady would have stepped away. Meriel slowly, deliberately, slid down the front of his body, every supple curve impressing itself on him like flame.

Then she turned her face up to his, her eyes clear and intent. He wanted to kiss those soft, parted lips. He wanted to loosen her hair so he could bury his face in its shimmering magnificence. Most of all, he wanted to make love to her until they were both senseless with fulfillment. As he stood frozen, she touched his lips with her fingertips in unmistakable invitation, a faint smile on her face. Helplessly he drew her index finger into his mouth, caressing it with his tongue. She began sliding her ringer in and out with natural sensuality. How could something so simple be so arousing?

Because everything about her aroused him. God help him, it was impossible to deny any longer how much he desired her. This wild woman sprite affected him, body and soul, as no one ever had before. Shakily reminding himself of all the reasons that he mustn’t continue this, he caught her hand and moved it away. “Meriel…”

Before he could say more, she slipped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. He retreated, and she followed with the sweet insistence of a puppy swarming up her owner, seeking treats. He halted when his back flattened against the wall, but she kept going, walking up onto his boots. Her small bare feet scarcely dented the leather, but she gained several inches of height. Then she kissed him full on the mouth, her hands stroking his neck and into his hair. Her lips were unskilled, but marvelously soft. Questing.

Common sense vanished, and he kissed her back. She tasted like wild strawberries, as fresh and luscious as the springtime. Small delicate bones, but strong, so strong. He stroked her back, cupping her hips, drawing her against him.

“You are so lovely,” he murmured into her mouth. Then he kissed her throat. Her head fell back, and she gave a breathy sigh. She was an innocent with an appetite as ancient as Lilith, the first temptress. He was aching hard, almost mindless with desire as his body throbbed against hers. He was reaching for her breast when a solid head butted into his ribs, jarring him from his sensual haze. He blinked dizzily and saw that Moonbeam, abandoned by her rider, was trying to eat his coat. Specifically, his pocket. He gave an unsteady laugh. “You want some more sugar, don’t you, girl?”

Not daring to look into Meriel’s eyes, he firmly moved her to one side so that her toes wouldn’t get mashed by steel-shod hooves. Then he dug a lump of sugar from his coat pocket with shaking ringers and offered it to the mare. She happily slurped it from his palm, then gave him a melting gaze in hopes of more.

Trying to pretend that scorching embrace had never happened, he caught Moonbeam’s reins. “You and Pegasus need to be rubbed down.”

He led the mare to her stall, thinking that he owed her a whole loaf of sugar for saving him from temporary insanity. Christ, what could be madder than wanting to lie with his brother’s future wife? The potential for damage to everyone involved was horrifying. Despite Meriel’s innocent enthusiasm, she couldn’t possibly understand the implications of what she was inviting him to do. The physical aspects of sex were relatively simple. It was the emotional and moral consequences that raised hell. Damnation, why wasn’t Kyle here, wooing his bride himself?

His best efforts at control could not quell the throbbing in his groin, or the desire to teach Meriel what she was so eager to learn. He glanced over his shoulder. She stood where he had left her, fists clenched at her sides and her eyes dark with passion. He might be constrained by multiple reasons to keep his distance, but she wasn’t.

She wanted him. And gods above, if he had a grain of sense he would leave Warfield immediately, for he wasn’t sure he would have the strength to refuse her again.

Chapter 16

Kyle knocked lightly, then entered Constancia’s cabin. She lay on the small chaise, gazing into a hand mirror as she applied a faint blush of rouge to her cheeks with a hare’s foot. When Kyle entered, she made a rueful face. “Alas, querido, you have caught me. Isn’t it amazing how vanity persists even at the end of life? One of the seven deadly sins, and enough to condemn me to the fire even if I hadn’t committed most of the other sins as well.”