Part 32 (1/2)

”If you do not step away and allow me to leave, I will scream,” she said.

The man withdrew so suddenly she s.h.i.+vered with the absence of his heat. Her eyes had adjusted just enough to the darkness to make out the white of his s.h.i.+rt. He seemed now to be leaning against a stall.

”No need to scream, la.s.s. I never meant to keep you against your will. I thought you were looking for sport. I only meant to provide it.”

Something in his lazy manner, his calmness when her nerves were rubbed raw, her senses more heightened than they had ever been in her life, greatly annoyed Anne. ”You are very accommodating,” she snapped, and felt an irrational flare of jealousy. Jealousy of herself? She was confused and needed to escape the devil and his intoxicating scent.

Quickly Anne bent and retrieved her things. ”You'll see to the horse,” she instructed automatically, then realized her tone was that of a person used to issuing orders and having them followed. ”I mean, please,” she added. ”I've bridled her.”

His teeth flashed white in the darkness. ”I'll see to her,” he said. ”And I'm thinking on another night, I'll see to you, as well.”

She wanted to argue the matter with him, but Anne had already said too much in his presence. He might not recognize her face in the light of day, but if she continued to converse with him, he would recognize her voice.

As much as she wanted to flounce away, her head held high as if his last statement had not affected her, Anne had no choice but to move slowly through the dark stable. She felt his eyes watching her. Even that was almost like a caress. Good G.o.d, who was this man who could so easily turn a female's mind to mush with nothing more than the sound of his voice, the touch of his lips, his strange scent? She pitied the poor maids sure to run across his path in the days ahead... or was ”pity” the right word?

Anne made it to the door without falling flat on her face and hurried outside. She needed fresh air to clear her head. The back of her neck p.r.i.c.kled and she knew he watched her even now. The temptation to turn and look at him in the moonlight nearly got the best of her. If she saw his features, then he'd be able to see hers.

Come tomorrow, Anne must pretend that she had never met the man who'd nearly seduced her tonight. Pretend she had never felt his mouth moving against hers, the brush of his fingers upon her skin, never heard the sound of his husky voice. Tonight she'd told her first lie. Anne supposed tomorrow she would try her hand at acting.

Chapter Two.

It was early the next morning when Anne met him. Her eyes felt swollen from lack of sleep. She'd lain awake much too long thinking of him once she'd reached the safety of her bed. Her lips were swollen, as well, and she knew what that was from. Lost in thought, she sat quietly dining upon breakfast with her aunt and uncle when a stranger entered the room. Anne had never seen the man, but she knew him instantly.

Her nostrils flared, her heart skipped a beat, and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. The man didn't look her way but strode past her straight to her uncle.

”You sent for me, my lord?”

Her uncle dabbed his mouth with a napkin. ”Yes. I thought you should meet my niece. She frequents the stable much more than the Countess and I find agreeable, but because she does, I will provide an introduction. You should know who she is and how she is to be treated when she visits the stable to ride.”

The new stable master inclined his head. It was a dark head. His hair was as black as a moonless night. It hung to his shoulders, was thick and curled around his collar. His lashes were just as dark, just as thick, s.h.i.+elding his eyes from her until he glanced up and in her direction. Anne forgot to breathe. He pinned her with ice blue eyes and she couldn't seem to form a simple thought. He stared, and she stared helplessly back.

Slowly, the rest of his features came into focus. High cheekbones, chiseled jawline, indentations along the sides of his mouth... a mouth shaped with a gentle hand when nothing else about him hinted at any tenderness. He was big, and broad, and beautiful. And for a moment, she thought she had seen him somewhere before, but she knew she could not have.

”My niece, Lady Anne Baldwin,” her uncle's voice managed to penetrate the fog in her head. ”Lady Anne, this is our new stable master, Merrick.”

”Lady,” the stable master said softly.

Anne knew she had to respond. She couldn't say his name. It was too intimate. ”Mister... ?” She let her voice trail.

His eyes never left her. ”Just Merrick. I've no last name. Born on the wrong side of the blanket. You may call me by my given name.”

She simply nodded but refused to do so.

”I'll tell you what I tell the rest of those who work for me,” her uncle interrupted. ”You are to treat my niece with the utmost respect. She spends far too much time riding her horse and lurking about the stable when she knows her aunt and I do not necessarily approve of her fondness for such things. We indulge her here in the country where it makes little difference. But being

in charge, I expect for you to watch out for her, and of course with as much distance as possible between the two of you while you do.”

”Uncle!” Anne was embarra.s.sed by his instructions and by his bluntness in her company.

He held up a hand. ”A man must know his place, Anne. Sometimes a man must be told his place so that he doesn't forget.”

”Really, my dear,” Aunt Claire fussed. ”Must you embarra.s.s the girl so early in the morning? I'm certain our new man knows

good and well his place, don't you, Merrick?”

As if reluctantly, the stable master's intense gaze swung from Anne toward her aunt. ”I've been put in it enough times to know it, my lady,” he said.

”Interesting.” Aunt Claire's gaze slowly swept over him. ”That you have an English name and a Scottish accent.”

”My mother was Scottish,” he explained. ”Grew up listening to her, so naturally I would speak as she spoke. Whoever my father

was, he asked her to give me an English name. Not his name, mind you, whatever it was, but an English Christian name.”

”That will be all, Merrick ” Anne's uncle piped up, dismissing the man. ”My niece rides every morning at ten o'clock sharp. Her horse is the bay mare in stall five. Be sure that the horse is ready for Lady Anne.”

Anne couldn't ride this morning. It was out of the question. She needed time to gather herself. ”I will not ride today,” she blurted.

”I-I don't feel well,” she explained to her aunt and uncle, who both looked surprised by her statement.

”I would have a word with your maid.”

Anne's eyes snapped toward the new stable master. ”What?”

”Your maid,” he repeated. ”I would like a word with her.”

”Old Bertha?” Aunt Claire's brow furrowed. ”Why on earth would you need to speak to her? Not that she could probably hear

half of what you say. She's going quite deaf in her old age.”

The new stable master didn't look surprised. He knew. Anne suspected he'd known all along. But how could he? He couldn't have seen her last night. She couldn't see him in the darkness.

”Never mind then,” he said. ”I a.s.sumed the lady might take her maid to ride along with her and I meant to question the woman regarding which horse she would use, but if the woman is old...”

”You will ride with my niece,” her uncle instructed. ”At least until I can decide upon a suitable groom. Her old groom is no longer with us. Ride with Lady Anne, but a proper distance behind her, of course.”

”Of course,” he said, and Anne detected a hint of sarcasm behind his cool expression. He was of the serving cla.s.s. But he did not like it. Not one bit.