Indigo Moon Read online

  The earl chuckled. “He left me to deal with your swordsman while he chased after the carriage. But your coach upset a fruit cart, and Lady Driby’s carriage had become entangled with the carter’s animals, and the ensuing mob prevented any further chase. He returned in time to threaten our captive with your father’s name.”

  “I missed all the fun.” She found it astonishingly easy to be herself with this man she had known no more than a week. To play the part of demure miss at this moment would stretch her patience to the breaking point.

  “I daresay you will see the best part when Emery’s father arrives,” Austin replied. “I shall have to scurry back down the wall to lend my hand so he has no reason to think you compromised.”

  Aubree frowned. “That is foolishness. There is no point risking your neck in such a manner. Emery will simply have to tell them you were protecting me. I shall sit on the windowsill if it will prevent you from making such a foolhardy attempt.”

  “Sitting on the windowsill would affect nothing if you should fall out of it, and it would make conversation exceedingly difficult. Unless you are inclined to sleep until your uncle arrives, we shall have to regale each other with our wittiest tales to pass the time.”

  Aubree brightened. “Let us play Question and Answer. I will go first.”

  Heathmont looked dubious. “I never heard of such a game. How do you play?”

  “It is also called Honesty. We each take turns asking one question and the other must answer it as honestly as he is able. If he cannot, or will not, he loses. I’ll show you how. I’ll start with an easy one. It’s more fun with strangers. I can stump Emery within two questions, he’s so pompous.” Aubree settled more comfortably on the bed, ignoring the impropriety of playing parlor games while sitting on a bed in a room alone with a strange man. “What does your mother call you?”

  “My mother?” Austin grinned. “She calls me fool, frequently, but Austin when she wants something. If I play this game, will you call me Austin?”

  “Of course, Austin. My turn again. What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?”

  Heathmont roared in protest at the speed with which she had hoodwinked him, but she giggled and he accepted the lost point. “I can see already, you are too good at this game. My most embarrassing moment. . . Probably the time at school when I so carefully glued all the pages of the professor’s text together, then turned around to find him watching me. It may have been one of the most painful, too, now that I think about it. My turn. Why did your mother leave her wealth to you and not to your father?”

  If Heath thought to stump her with that one, he was disappointed. Aubree lit up like gaslights on a London street at this opportunity to tell her tale.

  “My grandmama entailed it, just like a man would do for the eldest sons. She lost her first love when her father refused to allow her to marry a poor man. He sailed off to make his fortune and never came back. When her father died and she came into his wealth, she tied it all up so her daughter and her daughter’s daughter and so on would inherit on their eighteenth birthdays. That way they did not have to marry for money or marry at all, if they wished. When she did marry, her husband was wealthy enough not to argue over the entailment, and my father certainly had no need of my mother’s wealth, so he never seriously considered the entailment until I got older and presumably more troublesome. I do not mean to be troublesome,” she admitted wistfully.

  Without warning, Austin brushed a kiss against her lips. It was a gentle kiss, without demand or need for reply, yet Aubree tasted the heat of his lips against hers and felt a stir of emotion beyond her limited understanding. She should be angry at his presumptuousness, but it was not that kind of kiss. Instead, she needed to know more. When his mouth moved across hers, she turned her head to meet it with firmer pressure.

  His lips closed tightly against hers then, and his hand rested at the small of her back, steadying her within the circle of his embrace. Giddy excitement raced through Aubree’s veins as his kiss grew heated, and she melted beneath the smoldering fire.

  Never before had she experienced such sensations, and she knew little of how to react. She craved more, but the fear of the unknown and the knowledge of her rashness held her back. She had no reason to fear this man who held her; she trusted him as she did Averill, but she feared what he stirred in her.

  She raised her hand to his chest but Heathmont’s mouth was firm and hard against hers, and beneath her fingers, his heart beat a tattoo to match her own.

  Chapter 5

  Austin knew the foolishness of his action even as he embarked upon it, but the fragile softness filling his arms felt too good to set aside, and his blood came alive at the warmth of her response. He wanted only some small token of affection to lighten his load, but he found himself holding an armful of easily ignited explosives.

  With a great effort of will, he placed his hands around her waist and shifted her to a safer distance, where his lips would not so easily be tempted to stray. Propping himself on one elbow, he watched her expectant face. The sophisticated coiffure of earlier had disintegrated into a tumble of tousled curls, but it in no way detracted from her loveliness. If he were being fair, he would have to admit that those long-lashed eyes were much too wide for her small face, and that the fullness of her lips was too ripe for the delicate structure of her jaw, and that her coloring was too wholesome for society’s preference for pale, but he had no desire to be fair. She might not suit society’s standards, but she suited him well enough. Too bad she had to come along ten years too late.

  She kept silent, waiting for his verdict.

  “Your turn, I believe,” he murmured. She had discarded the jacket of her riding habit in the warmth of the evening, and he could feel her breathing through the fine lawn of her shirt. He could not let go, not quite yet.

  “I claim two questions as a forfeit for your behavior.”

  This return to her lighthearted banter removed the cloud of despair that had threatened to overcome him, and Austin gladly returned to his role, releasing her waist to lean back and cross his arms. “Fire away. I shall accept my punishment.”

  “How many girls have you kissed and is it always as pleasant as that?” she demanded, the teasing glint in her eyes warning his answer had best come up to par or a dire fate awaited him.

  Austin grinned and feinted a grab, but she dodged from his reach, perching warily at the side of the bed.

  “I have never kept count of the girls, but there has only been one lady, and yes, it is almost always as pleasant as that, particularly with a lady.”

  This roundaboutation left Aubree flustered. While she tried to determine if she counted as a lady, Austin took advantage of her silence. “Did your Geoffrey never kiss you?”

  A flush crept to her cheeks. “Not like that,” she replied. Then, regaining her composure at admitting this indignity, she added, “He only kissed me as a proper gentleman should when a lady agrees to be his wife.”

  “Of course,” he answered, the words drying on his tongue at the mention of marriage. He had momentarily forgotten her intention of marrying the young puppy. It seemed a waste, but there had been worse mismatches through the ages. He certainly should know.

  He sat up and started to throw his leg over the side of the bed, but Aubree darted to her feet and blocked his path.

  “You are supposed to be resting that leg. I will go sit in the window and behave properly. I promise.”

  Before he could protest, she leaned out over the sill to locate Emery. If her cousin could see her clearly, he would have cause to raise the roof, Austin reflected, watching Aubree’s slender form outlined against the panes. Her hair had fallen into a disheveled mass of curls and her stiff riding shirt had pulled from her waistband and wrinkled. He would be lucky to get out of this one without a bullet between his ribs. Luckily, Emery could not see well enough without his spectacles to tell a cow from a horse.

  “Wave at Emery and then sit yourself back
down here. I may not be much of a gentleman, but I’ll be damned if I lie here in comfort while you stand.”

  Aubree waved at her cousin, scanned the horizon for signs of rescue, then turned to regard him before approaching cautiously. She aimed for the foot of the bed, where some small space remained.

  “It’s too late for that now. You may as well sit beside me and make yourself comfortable since we have done away with propriety.” He gestured toward the space he had made beside him, less room than the width of a love seat.

  Aubree hesitated.

  “Aubree, I will not bite, I promise.” Echoing her words of earlier, Austin raised his hand to assist her. “If you prefer, I will sit on the windowsill, but I will not sit in comfort while you pace about. It may be a longer night than I expected. You must rest.”

  She grinned, then settled gingerly within the curve of his arm. Austin pulled her closer so she was in no danger of falling out and offered his shoulder as a pillow for her head. “The thought behind that grin, my lady?” he asked.

  “Are you asking me to sleep with you, my lord?” she asked with a hint of a giggle.

  “That is what one normally does after a tumble in bed,” he commented without inflection.

  Her laughter reassured him. He had no intention of seducing young girls or of being accused of trifling with their affections. He had more than enough problems without involving himself with susceptible adolescents. He should have known better than to agree to this mad charade with a volatile miss like this one. Neither one of them had any sense of propriety, and the result could only be disaster. As the elder, he had only himself to blame. He ever was one for acting without thinking. He would see her delivered safely to her uncle and be gone before another day passed. There must be other means of accomplishing his goals besides playing with fire.

  “How will you know when Uncle John arrives?” A sleepy voice murmured from beneath his arm.

  “Emery has a very distinctive whistle. He’ll let us know.”

  “Us, and half the world. I remember that shriek.”

  When she said no more, Austin let the subject rest. He tuned his ears for any change in the sounds below. A bar across a door was very little protection should anyone decide to force an entrance. He felt inclined to believe they were safe, but he had learned to take no chances. He would remain on guard until help arrived.

  After a while, Aubree’s even breathing told him she slept. He smiled as a small hand curled upon his chest, and she shifted her position to rest more comfortably against him. It had been a very long time since he had held a woman like this. He had not realized how much he missed the gentle give and take of genuine affection. The women he had held these past years had only one purpose, and affection had no part in it. Perhaps he needed to reconsider his solitude. There were women enough out there who would be glad for a roof over their heads and a man in their bed. He would just have to refrain from choosing among the better classes of society.

  That thought angered him, and he deliberately stopped thinking. He listened for the sounds of the night that would warn him of another’s approach and prepared for the confrontation to come. A bloody battle would serve his mood nicely.

  Toward dawn, Austin’s vigilance was rewarded. The sound of a horse galloping through the woods intruded upon his awareness. He puzzled over the fact that he heard only one and waited for Emery’s signal, but none came.

  Cursing, he lay Aubree against the pillows and rose from the bed. He had no intention of being caught in this compromising position. If help had arrived, he would make his departure now.

  Despite his lameness, he moved silently. Austin judged from the lack of sound below that all slept. Perhaps Emery had taken it upon himself to seek the key that would free them and had deserted his post.

  Austin could find no sign of Emery in the shrubbery, but the faint whicker of their horses in the woods told him he couldn’t have gone far. The galloping hooves came closer, from the other side of the house where he could not see.

  They were close enough to her father’s house that he had expected Lord John to ride to Ashbrook and gather men there. That would mean coming in by the north road he could see from the window. Whoever this rider was, he came from the south, from the direction of London.

  His fingers clenched the hilt of his sword. Perhaps he would be lucky enough to come face to face with the bastard who had engineered this little plot. He grew tired of fighting nameless tormentors. It would be extremely pleasant to run this one through with steel.

  An explosion of noise from the direction of the kitchens warned of the horseman’s arrival. Austin sent one last glance in the direction of the shrubbery and the road. He thought he detected a movement at the corner of the house and a cloud of dust down the road bore promise, but there wasn’t time to wait. A pistol barking and running footsteps drew him back to the door.

  Aubree raised up as Austin strode toward the door. A quick gesture warned her to silence, and following his silent command, she dropped behind the bed. Austin stationed himself behind the door.

  The room had grown gray with dawn, and the racket below echoed through the old lodge. Loud voices, a scuffle, falling furniture, followed by the hasty tramp of two pairs of boots up the wooden stairs. Steel clashed on steel and a loud, rather dramatic scream bit the air.

  The shriek of Emery’s whistle pierced the racket. Austin concentrated on the battle beyond the door. He held his sword at ready and clasped the bar.

  Over the mayhem outside the door, a voice shouted. “Aubree! Let me in!”

  “Geoffrey!” Aubree bounded from behind the bed and ran to help Austin slide the bar.

  “Not so fast.” Understanding more than she, Austin caught her wrist and held her away. Geoffrey did not sound in the least out of breath. And he had no way of knowing Aubree was here unless. . . “There’s something not right here.”

  “Austin, it’s Geoffrey! They could be murdering him!” Aubree struggled against his hold, her nails scratching at his arm as she tried to grasp the bar.

  The thunderous tread of boots entering the downstairs hall served as background to Geoffrey’s urgent cry. “Aubree, what are you doing? Open the door!” A fist beat against the wooden panel.

  Muttering curses, Austin threw a look to the window, a million miles away.

  “Austin, let me go!” With a sudden twist, Aubree jerked free and flung the bolt, and all thought of escape was lost.

  The roar of a commanding voice echoed up the stairwell. “Who in hell is that stripling and where is my daughter? John, send men after those cowards running out the back. Aubree, where are you?” The unbarred door flew open.

  “Oh, my word,” Aubree barely squeaked out as she shrank back against Austin.

  Resigned to his fate now that Pandora’s box was open, Austin caught her by the wrist, and sword still in hand, came face to face with the handsome Geoffrey. For someone who had just ridden all the way from London, then fought a half dozen kidnappers, he appeared less disheveled than either Heath or Aubree.

  “You!” The pretty features turned cold as he took in Aubree’s embrace in the arms of the notorious Earl of Heathmont.

  Austin retained a stony expression as he pointed his sword downward instead of impaling the mongrel. He waited for the inevitable, who arrived right on time.

  “Aubree, what in hell is this?” The duke gave Geoffrey a look of disdain.

  Powerful hands grabbed the younger man from between the duke and his daughter. His grace then turned a cold glare on Austin, who held Aubree in one arm and flourished a sword in the other. Austin made no attempt to relinquish either burden.

  Aubree stepped bravely away from Austin, allowing him to sheathe his sword as she confronted her father. “I can assure you, I do not know what happened below,” she said clearly and without hesitation, “but you have no right to treat Geoffrey like that. He has only come to rescue me.”

  Silence reigned in the direction of the young lord, who hung between the
heavy hands of several of the duke’s gamekeepers.

  His grace cast the culprit a contemptuous glare. “Let the whelp go. If he follows his playmates out there, I’ll not press charges.”

  Ah, it sounded as if the duke had reached the same conclusion as Heath had.

  Dropped from painful grips, Geoffrey stood his ground. “What about him?” He pointed at Austin lounging against the door frame, his weight resting on his good leg.

  Austin swept an insulting gaze over Geoffrey’s elegantly tailored figure, not a cuff out of place for all his loudly fought havoc. With contempt, he studied the young lord’s spotless waistcoat, then met the duke’s condemnation without flinching.

  “That’s obvious. He’ll be standing before an altar by sundown tomorrow,” the duke replied, not bowing before Austin’s fury.

  Aubree’s shriek of outrage drowned Geoffrey’s feeble protests as he was shoved toward the stairs. Austin and the duke, however, made no move to end their battle of wills. They glared at each other as Aubree broke between them to run after her suitor.

  “Emery, catch her,” the duke commanded, not bothering to follow his daughter’s flight.

  Aubree’s cousin and Austin’s friend sent him a despairing look, then ran to do as ordered.

  “I suggest we talk.” Austin unfolded himself and stood upright, putting his gaze on a level with the duke’s.

  Geoffrey had disappeared by the time Aubree reached the front drive. She ran toward the nearest horse, determined she would not stay in this madhouse a moment longer. Her father had no intention of listening to reason. She had seen that mood before. She felt no guilt in deserting Austin. He could deal with her father easier than she, and even better if she were not there.

  A horse not equipped for sidesaddle presented problems, but she managed to mount herself with the help of a low lying wall. Emery’s shout only served to spur her on.

  She had a good lead on her cousin as she turned down the road bearing south, but her mount was already winded by the run from Ashbrook. She urged it on, but Emery apparently had a fresher horse and quickly gained on her.