Relentless Lord Page 3

  For how many people there were, it took a surprisingly short time for everyone to disappear into the shadowed forest.

  Miles however, stayed on the wall beneath the apple tree, swinging his leg in a relaxed rhythm as he waited for the reappearance of Miss Walpole.

  She did not leave him stranded for long.

  Though he had just seen her not fifteen minutes earlier, the sight of her again nearly stopped his breath. Especially when her light steps faltered at realizing everyone had gone on without her. She stopped and stood looking about, a bit dumbfounded, a handkerchief pinched lightly between her fingers.

  Miles jumped to his feet then and began a jaunty stroll across the lawn.

  “Miss Walpole, a lovely morning, is it not?”

  She looked at him, eyes wide and wary, clearly not having noticed him before that moment. But now that she had seen him, she shifted her weight back and forth, as though trying to decide if she should stay or run. Lucky for him, her indecision allowed him the time he needed to reach her side.

  She tipped her head back to see him from beneath the wide rim of her bonnet.

  “Lord Whitely, I had not expected to see you about so early in the day. I thought rakes and libertines preferred to stay abed past the noon hour.”

  “Ah, that is only when we have a delightful companion with whom to while away those pesky morning hours. And I was sadly quite alone in my bed last night.”

  “How terrible for you,” she muttered as she shifted her gaze to scan the wood line and lane for any sign of the departed party.

  “Indeed. And since you were the cause of my cold bed, I fully expect you to make it up to me.”

  That brought her attention swinging back to him. Her blue eyes were bright with surprise and her lovely mouth dropped open. “Wait. What?”

  “It seems we both missed the group heading for the vale. Will you keep me company on the walk?”

  Her gaze narrowed as she eyed him askance. “What have you done with everyone?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, all smiling innocence, “but I do know where they went. We should be able to catch up to them quite easily. Will you accept my escort?”

  Her hesitation should have bruised his ego, but Miles found he rather liked that she did not trip over herself for the opportunity to be alone with him. Many young ladies would have. Many young ladies had at some point or another in the past.

  She glanced down at the handkerchief in her hand. He suspected she knew her cousin had sabotaged her and was not surprised by it. Issuing a sound somewhere between a sigh and harrumph, she tucked the white scrap of linen into her sash before replying.

  “I cannot imagine they have much of a start on us. I accept your offer, Lord Whitely, but do not expect me to take your arm.”

  Miles smiled. “I will accept those terms. But keep in mind, should you trip over a tree root or slip over uneven ground, you will be entirely on your own.”

  A reluctant smile crinkled the corner of her mouth. Miles found his attention captured by the sight of it.

  “Do not worry about me, my lord. I managed an eight-day trek through the foothills of the Simien Mountains without a gentleman’s steadying hand, and all while carrying a heavy pack on my back and leading a stubborn mule. I daresay I can manage the wilds of Lancashire.” She glanced about. “So which way did they go then? Down that path there?” she asked, pointing at the narrow lane heading into the forest.

  “No,” Miles answered more abruptly than he intended, having been thrown off by her unexpected rejoinder.

  She glanced at him in confusion. “Isn’t the picnic spot located beyond the deer run?”

  “Yes, but there is a more scenic route than through the woods. This way,” he said as he gestured back across the lawn.

  Though he had visited this estate a number of times with Grimm, they had not exactly been interested in taking walks about the estate. Miles truly had no idea whether the direction he planned to take was more scenic or not, he just knew it was opposite of the way the others had taken.

  “Let us be off then,” she said as she took off in long, purposeful strides. “Lead the way, Lord Whitely.”

  Miles allowed himself just a moment to admire the view of her departure before jogging to catch up to her.

  Chapter Four

  It really was a lovely day. So unlike what Hannah had gotten used to since coming to England. She had not seen nearly enough sunshine in the last couple years. She wished she could toss her bonnet aside and feel the warmth on her bare head.

  But such behavior would be frightfully unseemly, and she could not risk any stragglers from the party ahead of them catching a glimpse of her in such a state. In thinking of the others, Hannah lifted her gaze to scan the path ahead. She and Lord Whitely had been walking for nearly fifteen minutes at a pretty good pace, surely they should have met up with members of the other group by now?

  Then again, he had said they were taking a scenic route…

  She glanced at the ridiculously handsome lord strolling along beside her. She sincerely hoped this wasn’t some trick to get her alone. He had been pretty quiet so far, no inappropriate flirtation or attempts at unnecessary touching. Basically, none of the sorts of things she would have expected from someone who had declared he planned to seduce her.

  But then she knew very little of such things. Maybe the English thought of seduction in very different terms than what she imagined.

  In truth, the renowned scoundrel had been rather circumspect over the last couple days. If she were a trusting sort, she would have thought he had changed his mind about pursuing her. But she was not so foolish to dismiss those times she had caught him watching her—and it had been often enough—with a quiet little grin barely hiding on his lips.

  It did not bode well that his attention, however brief or covert, managed to warm her as intensely as the desert sun. In fact, it was quite aggravating since Hannah knew full well nothing would come of it. Nothing could.

  As though sensing he was the focus of her thoughts, Lord Whitely slid his gaze to the side and gave her a wide grin and a wink.

  She told herself it was the fact that she had begun thinking of seduction that had her insides dissolving in delicate tingles. But she knew it was him—and his flashing green eyes—that had her twisted up so neatly.

  Her oldest cousin, Jacqueline, had been so very right to bemoan her acquaintance with this man. Though Beatrice had often called her sister silly, Hannah could easily see how Lord Whitely had managed to ruin Jacqueline during her cousin’s first season two years ago. It should have been Hannah’s first season as well, had her uncle not decided she needed more training in the areas of decorum and deportment before he would allow her out in society as a representative of their family.

  If Hannah had had access to her own money, she would have purchased a ticket back to Africa many months ago, though by now, her parents had likely moved on to another location. They rarely stayed anywhere for very long. As it was, her uncle held her purse on short strings. He had been burdened with the task of seeing her settled into a proper English marriage and that was what he would do. Whether Hannah wanted the same or not.

  “Did you really climb a mountain carrying a pack on your back and leading a mule?” Lord Whitely asked, bringing her back to the present moment.

  Her uncle would prefer that no one know how she had lived before coming to England, but Hannah did not like lying. Besides, she saw nothing wrong with the life she’d lived with her parents.

  She gave a short nod. “It was just the foothills, but, yes, I did.”

  “Fascinating,” he replied.

  He didn’t seem particularly shocked by her admission. Anyone else who learned of her unusual upbringing tended to stare at her as though she had just admitted to being from another planet.

  “I almost think you mean that,” she said.
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  “I do,” he answered as he lengthened his stride to step in front of her and turn around to continue their conversation face-to-face while he walked backwards. “I imagine you have done many things that would astound the average Englishman. I would love to hear more.”

  Hannah was conflicted. Was it a ploy?

  Likely so, but she didn’t really care just now. The sun was shining, reminding her vaguely of home. And for the moment anyway, she and the puckish scoundrel grinning at her were the only people about. She could almost pretend they were not smack dab in the middle of the dreary English countryside.

  “You do not find me odd?” she asked with an impish smirk of her own.

  “Certainly,” he answered. “That’s exactly what I find fascinating. The moment I saw you lift your skirts, I knew you were not the typical sort of lady.”

  Hannah narrowed her gaze and pursed her lips to keep from laughing. He certainly had a way of lightening the tone. “I imagine you thought me an easy mark.”

  The laughter faltered in his bright green eyes. Instead of answering, he swung around again to fall into step beside her. The shift in his demeanor was almost startling.

  “I am not everything they say about me, you know.”

  Hannah considered what she had heard. “Hmmm. You mean you are not a conscienceless flirt and indiscriminate seducer of innocents and sophisticates alike?”

  “Would you believe me if I said I had absolutely nothing to do with the women who claim to have been ruined by me?”

  “Not at all,” she replied without a second thought.

  “Do not get me wrong. I do like to flirt.” He tossed her a wink. “But I have not done half the things people have claimed.”

  “I admit I find that hard to believe.”

  He shrugged. “For the most part, I enjoy the notoriety. It is amusing to see what people will believe about you with no actual proof. But for some reason, I would rather you know the truth.”

  Hannah couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just saying what he thought she’d like to hear.

  “Which is…?” she prompted, curious about him despite herself.

  “I am not the scoundrel and libertine everyone makes me out as.”

  “Hmm,” she responded with a noncommittal sound.

  He laughed. “I can see you are unconvinced. I suppose I should not be surprised.”

  They lapsed into a sort of uneasy silence for several minutes as the terrain they walked tilted upward and grew rocky and uneven enough that some concentration was required.

  After Lord Whitely assisted her with climbing over several groupings of boulders, which she honestly could have leapt over far easier on her own, she finally paused to ask him, “Are you sure we are heading in the right direction?”

  Her hand was still in his after he had hoisted her to the top of a particularly large outcropping of rock. His other hand rested on the small of her back. It was a rather inappropriate position, she realized now that she took a moment to think about it. Of course, she had the excuse that she was unaccustomed to all the rules and limitations regarding casual physical contact amongst men and women of the upper classes. Such would not be his excuse, however.

  “Most definitely,” he replied with a hearty grin.

  Hannah knew she should pull away, her uncle’s voice in the back of her mind screamed at her for her loose manner.

  But Whitely’s eyes were so blasted green, and his hand at her back and the other holding hers were so warm and strong. And his lips were a ridiculously pleasant shape, as were his shoulders and legs and hands and face. Everything about him was quite agreeable, actually. Not just his appearance, which in truth was a few steps beyond such a mediocre adjective, but also the way he talked to her. Like she was a real person.

  As they stood there, balanced together on the top of the rock, she felt suddenly lightheaded and confused.

  “Do you hear water?”

  Hannah blinked.

  He turned and squinted into the sun, throwing his face into sharp profile. She found herself distracted by the line of his jaw and the shape of his ear.

  “Yes, I see it. Come on.”

  Without warning, he jumped to the ground and clasped his hands around her waist to lift her down after him. Then he clutched her hand in his as he practically dragged her along the trail, twisting around more rocks and leaping ditches formed by water running from the higher ground.

  Hannah couldn’t help but laugh at his obvious enthusiasm. She grasped her skirts to lift them out of the way as she leapt agilely after him.

  “Where on earth are you leading me?” she questioned good-naturedly. “What did you see?”

  “This,” he answered as he stopped and pulled her up alongside him.

  Hannah followed his sparkling gaze to the stunning sight of a crystalline pool of water trapped by a formation of boulders and fed by a stream of water tumbling down a rock wall. The water reflected the bright sunshine with watercolor hues of blue, green and gold. It was picture perfect.

  “What on earth,” she murmured as she stepped closer to the edge. The pool was quite deep and big enough to hold perhaps five men comfortably. The water, so clear and bright, looked unbelievably refreshing.

  She glanced around them and realized for the first time that they had been slowly making their way up into the hills. The path going back the way they had come sloped slowly downward and the path ahead only went up. She didn’t recall anyone mentioning such an incline on the way to the picnic spot.

  A forest-green coat dropped to the rocks at her side. With a start, she turned to see Lord Whitely unbuttoning the front of his waistcoat.

  “What are you doing?” she exclaimed.

  His grin was boyish and naughty. “I am going for a swim.”

  He tossed the waistcoat aside and bent over to pull off his boots.

  A flash of panic seared through Hannah. This was certainly not appropriate.

  “No, you are not. Someone from the party may come back this way and see you.”

  He shrugged and continued to strip off his stockings and then went for his neck clothe. Stopping finally as he stood in nothing but his buckskin breeches and thin white shirt, he turned and gave her grin.

  “Won’t you join me? I cannot imagine it is so deep you won’t be able to touch the bottom.” He wriggled his brows suggestively. “Though if it is, I won’t mind if you wish to cling to me for safety.”

  “You are not really going in,” she insisted. Of course he wouldn’t.

  He just lifted his brows and stepped up to the edge. Before she could say a word to stop him, he made one long leap.

  Hannah gasped as the cold water splashed back at her.

  He resurfaced with a shake of his head and a wily grin.

  “Come on then. The sun is hot and the water is cool. It feels amazing. You know you want to,” he challenged.

  “Not a chance,” she said, holding back a smile. The man had no boundaries to his behavior. “My uncle would throttle me. He may still if someone catches me talking to you like this. I am sure this is breaking at least a dozen rules.”

  “No one is going to come this way,” he assured calmly. “You are entirely safe from censure, I promise.”

  Something in his confident tone struck a note of caution in her mind. “How can you be so sure?” Before he could speak, she answered her own question. “We are not following the party, are we?”

  His expression was unrepentant and just a little self-satisfied. “No.”

  “You are a scoundrel,” she accused.

  “Listen,” he said as he swam forward to the edge of the pool, basically to her feet. “No one will ever know we came up this way together. Not unless you tell them. So why don’t you simply enjoy the unexpected respite and take advantage of this slice of paradise?”

  Hannah did not an
swer right away. The man had a valid point. And the water did look heavenly. She used to swim a lot before coming to England, before she was advised such frolicking was reserved for children.

  But, no. She could not risk it.

  She glanced away from him.

  “Fine,” he said, a stubborn tone coloring his voice. “I will just stay submerged until you change your mind.”

  Hannah glanced back at him just in time to see him pushing off from the rocks to fall back under the surface with a rolling splash. She shook her head at his antics. Did he really think to convince her with that?

  She crossed her arms over her chest as the rippling water stilled over him. It was clear enough to see his wavering form sitting on the bottom of the pool.

  How long had he been down there? Twenty seconds maybe?

  Another ten went by, then twenty more on top of that.

  Hannah untied her bonnet and set it on a rock beside his coat. How long could a man hold his breath? She kicked off her shoes. Thirty seconds to a minute on average, perhaps? She had once seen a pearl diver off the coast of Persia hold his breath for four minutes easily. But that had been accomplished after years of training.

  Lord Whitely was a pampered Englishman.

  And he had already been underwater for nearly two minutes.

  “Drat,” she muttered as she reached for the back of her gown and pulled the buttons free with a rough yank and tug, sending several bouncing down onto the rocks. “I am going to have to save him.”

  Chapter Five

  Hannah gasped as the water closed around her. It was a great deal colder than she’d expected. Holding back her panic, she kicked off the rock wall and dove toward his wavering image.

  The water was not very deep and she reached him in seconds.

  As soon as she grasped the front of his shirt, he brought his arms up around her and propelled them both toward the surface in a rush.

  She blinked the water from her eyes. Opening them wide, she found herself staring directly into his ridiculously handsome face, which was split with an engaging grin.