Part 10 (2/2)
He reached the clothesline and yanked the trousers out of their pins. He'd just taken hold of the s.h.i.+rt as well when the back door to the cottage slammed open on its hinges again. Only it wasn't the woman who came out into the yard this time.
It was a man-a huge, ma.s.sive bull of a man with a barrel chest and arms that looked as if they could bend steel. His hands were the size of hams and curled inside one of them was a rifle. He raised the weapon to his shoulder and took aim.
”What in the h.e.l.l do ye think ye're doin'?” he bellowed. ”Ye believe ye can come up to my home, naked as the day G.o.d made ye, and help yerself to my clothes?”
Leo held out a hand. ”No, no, it is nothing like that.”
Technically, it was exactly like that, but there were mitigating circ.u.mstances. If only the bull-sized man would put down his weapon and let him explain.
”I've had an unusual mishap, you see, and lost my clothing while swimming in one of the nearby ponds,” Leo began. ”I'm borrowing these only until-”
”Borrowin', my left eye. Ye're a thief an' I don't hold with thieves. Ye're indecent to boot.”
Leo held up the trousers in his hand. ”I wouldn't be if you'd permit me to put these on. I am a guest of Lord Holland's and will recompense you for their use.”
The man didn't lower the gun by so much as an inch. ”Liar too, I see. Drop the rig and step back.”
Leo's hand tightened on the material. ”If you would simply see reason, I am sure some accommodation can be reached. How much for the clothes? I will purchase them from you outright.”
”Purchase them!” The farmer barked out a humorless laugh. ”Don't see no pockets ne'er ready coin on that bare skin of yers. Nay, ye stay where ye are, while my older boy goes for the constable.”
Leo scowled. ”There's no need to involve the law. Send word to Holland House and you will see that I am telling you the truth. My name is-”
”Don't care what yer name is. Now sit down and wait while Mull is called.” He gestured toward the ground with the end of his rifle. ”I want 'im to see ye, jus' as ye are, so there's no mistaking the situation.”
Leo glanced beneath him at the damp gra.s.s, the thin green stalks underlain by patches of sticky mud and a scattering of moldering leaves. It looked cold and uninviting and he had no intention of sitting on it, especially naked. ”I would prefer to stand.”
”Ye sit or ye'll get a taste of the wrong end of Bess here.”
”I will thank you not to threaten me,” Leo said in a voice hard with authority. ”Put Bess, as you call it, down.”
In answer, the farmer lifted the gun barrel higher.
Leo studied the other man, searching for potential weaknesses. On initial inspection, there didn't seem to be any, particularly since the farmer was the one holding the weapon. But weapon or no, Leo wasn't about to wait around for the local constabulary to arrive.
Considering how unwilling the other man was to listen to him, he didn't hold out much hope that Mr. Mull would be any more accommodating. Leo was vulnerable enough standing here in nothing but his boots. He wasn't taking the chance of being tossed that way into a gaol cell.
”Look, there is no need for all this,” Leo said. ”Why don't I just give you back your garments and be on my way?” In a gesture of apparent concession, he let the clothes drop onto the gra.s.s. ”See? No harm done.”
”No harm? 'Course there's harm.” The man bristled. ”If I let you go, ye'll be after one of me neighbors next. Now, enough of yer prattle. Shut yer gob and sit.”
Leo said nothing for a long moment, then gave a conciliatory shrug, as if he was giving in. ”As you like.”
Certain he'd won, the cottager s.h.i.+fted his stance, the weapon finally lowering a little.
Springing into action, Leo charged the other man. Reaching him in seconds, Leo curled his hands around the wooden stock and pushed the rifle up and away, wrestling for possession.
But the big bull held fast, every ounce as strong as he looked. They hadn't struggled for long when suddenly the gun went off. The bullet flew skyward, the reverberation from the shot traveling the length of Leo's arms.
Leo wasn't the sort to back away from a fight, but he also knew when retreat was the better choice. Hoping surprise would gain him a much needed advantage, he shoved the gun hard toward the farmer, then abruptly let go.
He ran, pus.h.i.+ng himself as fast as his legs would carry him toward a stand of trees not too far in the distance. He might not be able to outwrestle the bull-sized farmer, but he knew he could outrun him.
He was nearly to his goal when pain suddenly burned like a brand through his arm, the echo of a rifle shot sounding behind him seconds later. He glanced down and watched as blood ran hot and wet over his skin. Scarlet droplets pooled at his fingertips before splattering in the gra.s.s.
Rather than stop, he ran faster, even more determined to escape now that he was injured. He finally reached the shelter of the trees, only then pausing long enough to catch his breath. But he knew he didn't have time to waste. The farmer and his son, and whomever else the man could round up, would be after him soon.
He would have to tend to his wound later.
Cradling his injured arm against his chest, he pushed on. If he could just reach Holland House, he would be safe. As for arriving naked and bleeding, well, it would only add to the drama of his harrowing tale and raise the tally against Lady Thalia Lennox.
Checking quickly behind him to make sure they weren't already in pursuit, he set out again in what he hoped was the right direction.
Thalia was almost to the Holland House stables when she slowed her mount. The mare whickered softly, shaking her head with a jingle of the tack as they came to a halt in the middle of a gra.s.sy field.
Thalia supposed Lord Leopold was walking back by now wearing nothing but his boots. He must make quite a picture, all that finely wrought flesh exposed for all the world to see-a.s.suming he wasn't concealing himself behind every tree and bush along the way. Yet somehow she knew that he was far too proud a man to hide. Instead he was probably striding confidently forward, moving as if he were just out for a stroll regardless of the reaction he would most certainly provoke if seen by some unsuspecting local.
She frowned and caught her lower lip between her teeth, thinking of the predicament she'd put him in. She ought to be pleased, puffed up with self-satisfaction for a job well done. Her scheme had worked exactly as planned. She'd wanted to humiliate and humble him, to make him so angry that he would never want to speak to or look upon her again.
So why did she feel troubled?
Why was guilt souring in her stomach like a piece of unripened fruit?
She'd wanted to teach him a lesson. Instead, she wondered if she was the one in need of tutelage. Had she been unforgivably cruel? And if so, what was she going to do to make amends?
She sat unmoving for a few seconds more, then heaved out a breath and signaled for the mare to turn around and ride back the way they'd come.
Thalia was about halfway to the pond when a sharp crack splintered the air. She'd attended enough autumn shooting parties to recognize the sound of gunfire. Her heart sped faster, a strange, sick fear rising in her chest.
It could be anything, she thought. A hunter perhaps or shooting practice. It didn't need to have anything to do with Lord Leopold.
Yet somehow she knew it was.
A harsh gasp rattled in her throat when she saw him, one of his arms bathed in a wash of crimson as he came out of a small grove of trees at a stumbling run.
”My G.o.d,” she cried as she urged the horse toward him.
He stopped and looked up, the waning afternoon sun glinting off the threads of gold and amber in his hair. He looked beautiful despite his injury, like a warrior who'd just battled a mighty foe.
”Lady Thalia?” he said, clearly surprised to see her. ”What are you doing here?”
She ignored his question as she kicked her stirrup free and jumped down from her mount, running to him as quickly as her skirts would allow. ”My lord Leopold, what has befallen you? Have you been shot?”
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