To Marry a Marquess (14 page)

In minutes, Drake was mounted on the chestnut. He cursed as the rain fell to a steady drizzle. But another storm began as the thunder of horse's hooves pounded the wet grounds of Percy Hall.

Though the rain had stopped, Victoria could not go anywhere unless her horse decided to cooperate. She decided it was part mule. She was cold, drenched to the bone, and sadly regretting taking the horse in the first place. She had found shelter beneath a clump of oak trees, and it was all she could do to hold on to the beast beneath her. She was about to dismount the stubborn animal when she caught a glimpse of a rider coming into view.

She waved her arm high in the air to capture his attention. As the rider neared, Victoria noticed it was the enormous chestnut that she had seen in the stables. Relief washed through her. The groom had come to save her after all. The silly old man.

But her relief was short lived when a crop of black hair met her eyes. Good heavens, it was Lord Drakefield! And he looked every bit the pirate. Well! He had been so agreeable the other day, this was a change indeed.

Instinctively, she pulled the reins of the bay to move in the opposite direction. To her surprise, the animal obeyed.

A chilling wind nipped at her cheeks as she bolted from the trees into the clearing. Without warning, the horse exploded into a fierce gallop, and at that very moment, the clouds burst forth with a heavy rain.

She could hear Lord Drakefield shouting. In fact, she could almost feel the icy glare of his steel gray eyes probing into her back. Hooves thundering beneath her, she stole a quick glance over her shoulder. Rain splattered her face, but she could see him speeding toward her. His black hair whipped in the wind as his chestnut bolted over a large rock.

"Victoria! Pull back! Stop!"

Stop? She cringed as she turned her face back into the stinging rain. It was next to impossible now.

She tightened her grip on the reins, but failed to see the huge boulder in front of her. At that moment, the beast reared back, spitting her into the air. It happened so quickly, she barely realized what was happening until she slammed into the ground.  Pain shot through her body like an anvil against her chest.

Drake was only four lengths behind Victoria when he saw her lifted into the air and thrown to the ground like a rag doll. Oblivious to the sounds of the rain coming to a slow drizzle or of the thundering hooves hitting the ground, he heard only the blood-curdling scream he would never forget. And he would always remember the thud, the eerie stillness of the wind, and her sprawling form lying motionless in a pool of mud.

Chapter Nine

T
he stench of the wet grass drifted past Drake's nose as he knelt beside Victoria's limp body. He pushed back her muddy hair and checked her pulse. She was alive. No broken bones that he could tell. Grimacing, he scooped her body into his arms and whistled to his chestnut. The animal trotted toward the boulder. The gelding would have to wait.

"I am quite fine, my lord."

Pale aqua eyes stared back at him. Her hands pressed against his chest, and his pulse leapt as he tried to suppress his reaction. He wanted to throttle her and kiss her at the same time. But he knew she was hiding her pain well. He lifted a brow and glared at her.

"Fine? You could have been killed."

She raised her chin in indignation, but the vulnerability in her expression tugged at his heart. The little fool! Didn't she know the dangers of riding that horse in this kind of weather?

He drew his cloak over her damp clothes and scowled. She plagued him more than Honoria ever had. But he sensed a gentleness of spirit in her that Honoria never had, and along with her vulnerability, those two qualities drew him to her like a child to sweets. Had Nightham seen the goodness in this woman, too? Had he held her close?  Had he kissed her?

The questions barely crossed his mind before other ones followed. More intimate ones. More dangerous ones. Drake told himself that he didn't care. But he did. Confound it. He cared too much.

"I daresay, I have survived much worse, my lord."

"Have you now?" His voice was harsher than he intended.

The color rose to her face as she tried to sit up.

Drake pulled her into his arms and instantly felt a surge of anger at Nightham. Had the man taken advantage of her? Or worse, had she loved his friend? Did she still love him?

He peered down at her and touched the soft tendrils of mahogany hair that had fallen across her cheek. She glanced back at him with questioning eyes, and in that instant, Drake wanted to wash any memory of Nightham from her mind. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers.

The innocence of her reaction was more intimate than anything he had ever felt before. Passion pounded through his body, and he checked himself and pulled back.

Devil take it! The woman had him twisted about her curls like a besotted school boy.

He flashed her a roguish smile. "I could not help myself. I do deserve something for coming to your rescue."

Her eyes sparkled with indignation. "I would not have needed rescuing if you had not followed me."

Fury made him speak the words that had been gnawing at his soul. "You loved Lord Nightham then?"

Her face paled. He might as well have slapped her. "Lord Nightham is dead," she whispered and looked away.

"Is he?" Drake snapped back, instantly ashamed at his words.

Tears filled her eyes, and Drake fought the jealousy invading his soul. "We'll take the chestnut back to Percy Hall."

Without another word, he swept her onto his horse and mounted behind her. The ride back to the stables became most uncomfortable indeed.

The following evening Victoria changed into her gown with the help of a maid. Her legs were still sore from the day before and so was her heart. But she was determined to face her fears. She would attend the ball downstairs whether the marquess was there or not. She had felt too safe in his arms and that had vexed her to no end. His gentleness as he held her after the fall from the horse would not leave her mind.

But it was his kiss that she feared had sealed her fate. He was slowly invading her heart, and if she were not careful, the man would live up to his looks as a pirate and steal it, too. And she could never have that. She would have to trust him, and that was never going to happen.

Besides, what did he want from her? He had said nothing to anyone about her trip to the inn with Nightham. But how long would that last? And did he think her not good enough to love his friend?

"Victoria, did you hear me?"

"Yes, Aunt Phoebe. But truly, I am feeling quite well. Please, do not ask me to stay in my chambers for your engagement ball."

"Please, Victoria." Sarah stepped forward. "You simply cannot go downstairs. You almost died yesterday."

Victoria laughed. "I did not
almost die."

"You did!"

"Everyone is treating me as if I were made of fine china. I promise you, I won't break."

Sarah frowned. "You were thrown from that wretched horse. I would think that would be enough to kill anybody."

"I have been thrown off horses before and lived through it."

"Girls, girls. There is no need argue." Phoebe turned toward the door. "But Victoria, I implore you, if you do go downstairs, promise me that you will only come down for an hour or two and then return to your room. You need your rest, dearest."

"Very well. I promise."

"Good," Phoebe said, her eyes narrowing. "See that you keep that promise."

As soon as Phoebe left the room, Sarah leaned against the bedpost and drew in a disgusted sigh. "I cannot see why you have to pretend. Your limp is obvious. How are you going to dance?”

"I don't have to dance. I can watch. Is that so dreadful?"

Sarah picked at her gown. "I suppose not."

Victoria decided to change the subject away from herself, anything to keep her mind off that kiss from yesterday.

"I gather Lord James will ask you to dance."

Sarah's eyes lit with excitement. "I do like him. But I am like a younger sister to him. Do you think Drake will ask you?"

"Drake? When did you become so familiar with Lord Drakefield."

"Why?" Sarah's eyes twinkled. "Do you care for him?"

Victoria's lips thinned. Her maid pulled at her turquoise gown, trying to straighten out a small wrinkle.

"Victoria?" Sarah rose to see her cousin's face and laughed. "You
are
interested in him."

Victoria shrugged. Sarah did not know the half of it. "Well, what if I am? He is not the same man I thought he was."

"Yes, but you said you hated him."

"All behind me now. He was only trying to help me yesterday, and it was my fault that I fell, not his. I should never have taken that horse out in the first place."
Or ever have let him kiss me.

"But will he be dancing with you this evening?"

Victoria frowned. "Why?"

Sarah's eyebrows rose to the middle of her forehead, and she grinned. "Because instead of dancing with you, that pirate might just kidnap you and bring you aboard his ship."

Victoria felt a warm tingle in the center of her body and looked away. "Now, you are being silly."

"Perhaps he can help you out of the predicament you are in."

Victoria sighed and waited for the maid to finish with her hair. After the servant departed from the room, Victoria turned to her cousin. "I have decided to speak to the duke as soon as Aunt Phoebe becomes his wife. I know the longer I wait, the more of a chance I am taking, but I cannot ruin Phoebe's future. I will not seek help, knowing that I may put you all at risk."

"Pshaw! You cannot let this go any longer, Victoria. Something must be done about it. You must find out whether you were truly married. Lord Drakefield was there. He may be able to discover the facts about Nightham and you."

"No. He may seem agreeable now, but I have no idea if he will tell his family what transpired that day. I cannot trust him." Victoria touched Sarah's arm. "The duke adores Phoebe. If only they would set a date for the wedding."

"But I am not worried about her. I am worried about you."

Victoria gave a shaky laugh. "You must not worry about me. Go downstairs. I need a few more minutes. Go now. Shoo."

Drake stood in the hall, greeting some of the guests as they entered. He had taken his father's place as the duke had taken Lady Phoebe for a stroll in the gardens. When the hallway eventually cleared of guests, Fox came up beside him.

"I see you found your lady from the inn," the viscount uttered sarcastically to Drake.

Drake fought to hide his displeasure over his friend's comment. How the devil had Fox discovered his secret? He realized now that it was not only because of a promise to Nightham that he watched over Victoria, he felt a sudden need to protect the lady as well. Her vulnerability had taken him by surprise, whether she knew it or not.

"Ah, still upset from the night at the opera, I see," Drake replied.

Fox's eyes blazed with fury as he leaned toward him. "I daresay, are you implying that Lady Victoria prefers you over me?"

"Are you two gentlemen speaking about my niece, per chance?"