NOT WISHING TO HAVE to explain herself that evening, Helena retired to her chamber before the Darnell party returned. But knowing her aunt would be concerned—and having had sufficient time to work out her explanation—she was ready when, just before noon the next day, Lady Darnell sent Nell to ask that she join her in the back parlor for nuncheon.
To Helena’s surprise, she discovered as she walked in that Adam Darnell was present, as well. Though he gave her only a polite nod, the glance that passed between them was nearly as potent as a touch.
Assuring them she was feeling quite recovered, Helena explained her abrupt departure from the ball, after which Lady Darnell asserted she was glad Adam had found Helena before she managed to go off alone in a hackney.
“And I can only hope Miss Standish accepted my apology for dragging him off so precipitously,” Helena replied.
A small frown briefly creased Darnell’s forehead before he said, “She understood your position perfectly and will, I know, rejoice to know you are feeling well again.”
So she might not distract Darnell’s attention, Helena concluded. ’Twas well that lady had not witnessed what had nearly happened between them in the library. Helena felt her cheeks flush, remembering, and from the sudden spark in Darnell’s eyes before he turned away to busy himself with his coffee cup, she suspected he was recalling it, too.
“I’m so disappointed you felt compelled to leave the ball,” Lady Darnell said, pulling Helena’s attention back to the present. “Such a crowd of gentlemen! I lost count of how many begged for introductions and were quite dismayed that you left before they could secure one.”
Darnell frowned. “I expect ’twas exactly that crowd who brought on Miss Lambarth’s headache, Bellemere.”
“So you told me last night,” Lady Darnell said, looking back to Helena. “Though perhaps ’twas just the heat. The room was so stuffy, I felt a bit faint myself.”
“I’ve thought about it carefully and have concluded, as Darnell posited, that ’twas indeed the crush of people that disturbed me. I grew up in such…isolation, I suppose I cannot be easy with so large a group about.”
“But as you grow more used to Society, perhaps—”
“No, Aunt Lillian,” Helena interrupted. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I disliked the experience intensely and do not wish to repeat it. But you mustn’t feel you or Charis need avoid balls on my account. As I told Darnell, I shall be perfectly fine at home with my books.”
“But, my dear, how shall your suitors get to know you—and you them, if you spend your evenings hidden away?”
Helena gave her a level glance. “Aunt Lillian, as I have already assured you, I have no desire to marry. ’Twould be both dishonest and unkind to any purported suitors for me to appear at functions which might lend credence to the notion that, despite my declaration to the contrary, secretly I wish to wed.”
“But, my dear!” Lady Darnell began, only to be silenced by a stern glance from Darnell. “Well, I do not mean to tease you about it. We just want you to be happy.”
“Bellemere agrees with me that you should attend solely those entertainments you find appealing,” Darnell interposed. “Is that not so, ma’am?”
“Yes, Adam,” she replied, not appearing too happy with the approval he’d obviously coerced. “But,” she said, brightening, “the Season is just begun. No doubt you shall find many other functions more to your taste.”
“I’m sure she shall,” Darnell said. “You enjoy music, do you not? Bellemere has invitations to several musicales, which are generally held in a drawing room and attended by no more than several dozen guests.”
“That sounds delightful,” Helena said, relieved to see her aunt’s face brighten. Grateful to Darnell for lending her the assistance he’d promised, she turned and mouthed a silent thank-you.
He smiled at her, which warmed his green eyes and set the hint of a dimple playing in his cheeks. Checking a strong desire to touch it, she tucked her hand in her gown.
Her aunt was extolling the talent of London’s singers when Harrison entered, announcing Mr. Dixon was below. Darnell excused himself, but Aunt Lillian pronounced herself ready to accompany Helena to the parlor.
Their guest bowed as they entered. After an exchange of greetings, Mr. Dixon said, “I am delighted to see you have recovered, Miss Lambarth! The ball was a tedious affair after you left.”
While Aunt Lillian smiled her approval of his fulsome compliment, Helena had to chuckle. “Now you are being ridiculous, Mr. Dixon. The rooms were packed to the chandeliers with guests, half of them quite lovely ladies.”
“But none with conversation—or questions—as interesting as yours,” he replied. “Should you like to look at some horses? The stock for Tattersall’s next auction is in the stables. We could inspect them today.”
“If Aunt Lillian permits, I should be delighted!”
“Of course, my dear,” Aunt Lillian replied.
After fixing a time to return for her, Mr. Dixon took his leave.
Excited at the thought of finally being able to drive and ride again, she changed her gown and was waiting impatiently when her escort returned. Within a few moments he’d helped her into his phaeton and they were off.
“You are fortunate to be seeking horses at this moment,” Mr. Dixon told her as he guided the carriage down the crowded street. “Several gentlemen whose enthusiasm for gaming outreaches their skill have recently suffered reverses that require them to part with their cattle. Randall’s selling off some fine riding hacks, and Bridgeman has a beautiful pair of carriage grays.”
“I can view all the horses now?”
“Yes. Let me know the ones you prefer and I will bid for you since, as I believe I mentioned, ladies do not attend the auctions.” He looked over with a smile. “Ladies generally do not visit the stables, either. I was rather surprised Lady Darnell agreed to let you do it.”
“She knows how keenly I desire to purchase horses—and probably realizes that I would insist on choosing them myself. Thank you for braving censure by escorting me.”
“’Tis my pleasure. I admire your independence, and certainly wouldn’t wish someone else to choose my horses.”
In perfect charity with one another, they reached the auction company’s stables. Nostalgia mingled with the ache of grief to temper Helena’s enthusiasm as she walked with Mr. Dixon and Masters, Tattersall’s head groom, through the stable block. How many times as a child had she accompanied her mother as she instructed the stable boys or showed off her yearlings to prospective buyers?
Mulling over the relative merits of the saddle horses she’d seen, Helena had lagged behind the men when a tall black gelding in the next box stall caught her eye.
A broad chest, straight legs and well-muscled haunches suggested the strength and stamina she desired in a mount. Beyond that, however, something about his stance and wary, almost feral eyes attracted her. As if reciprocating her interest, the horse paced the stall, then turned back to her and tossed his head.
Going to the stall door, she put out a hand, encouraging him to draw closer. Slowly the horse approached, nostrils extended as he scented the air. Murmuring to him, Helena remained perfectly still, letting the horse accept her presence. Finally he allowed her to stroke his velvet neck.
So absorbed was she in getting acquainted that when Dixon’s voice sounded from right behind her, she jumped, prompting her equine friend to jerk away, snorting.
“Come along, Miss Lambarth. Masters wishes to show us that pair of grays I mentioned for your carriage.”
“What is this horse’s name, Masters?” she asked.
“Pegasus, but it outta be Devil! He’s not a fit mount for a lady, miss.”
“Why not? Is he ill-tempered? Ill-paced?”
“His paces be smooth enough and he’s not mean-spirited, exactly. He’s just powerful strong with a mind of his own. The stable boys say he’d as soon run ’em into the side of the stall as walk through the door.”
Helena chuckled. “He won’t tolerate being ignored or underestimated. Spirit and stamina are essential in a mount—else, why ride? Mr. Dixon, I want this horse.”
The two men exchanged uneasy glances. “Miss Lambarth, he is splendid,” Mr. Dixon acknowledged, “but if Masters says the horse is…difficult, please respect his opinion.”
“Indeed, I do! But neither of you have seen me ride. Masters—” she turned to the groom “—as I’ve already told Mr. Dixon, my mother bred horses. I’ve been in the saddle since before I could walk, riding everything from a pony to a green horse under saddle for the first time. I beg that you will both respect my knowledge of what I can handle.”
“If you say, miss,” the groom replied. “I’ll just go on ahead and let you discuss it with the gentleman.”
“Coward,” Dixon muttered, watching the groom retreat. “Now, Miss Lambarth, pray be reasonable!” he said, turning back to Helena. “You’ve admitted you haven’t ridden in years. Wouldn’t it be wise to choose a more docile mount?”
“Undoubtedly,” Helena agreed. “But I want this one. In dealing with horses—and men—I trust my instincts, which have never yet failed me. Pegasus and I shall suit perfectly—and gallop like the wind, shall we not, my beauty?” she crooned to the horse.
After a sigh, Dixon shook his head. “I’m sorry to be disobliging, but I cannot in good conscience try to obtain this horse for you. Now, the bay mare or the gray—”
“Please, Mr. Dixon, you needn’t apologize! I shall simply bargain for him myself.”
Dixon’s momentary look of relief was succeeded by one of consternation. “But you cannot, Miss Lambarth! Have I not already explained—”
“You have, quite clearly,” Helena interrupted. “But based on my assessment of the horses available, I have chosen the one I believe will suit me best. Was it not to ascertain that very thing that you brought me here?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then you can hardly expect me to settle for another horse, simply because others like it better. That would be neither logical nor intelligent.”
“But…but Miss Lambarth,” Dixon continued, looking rather desperate. “Adam would have my head if I purchase so highly unsuitable a lady’s mount for you!”
“Since you have already said you have no intention of doing so, you may be easy,” Helena replied. “I shall purchase the horse myself, saving you Darnell’s wrath.”
“He’d likely demand pistols at dawn were I to allow you to risk soiling your reputation by taking part in the auction,” Dixon retorted.
“Then I fear I have imposed upon you most shamefully, for one way or another, I intend to have this horse. Perhaps you could tell Darnell I was so ungovernable you washed your hands of me? In any event, I must catch up with Masters and inquire how to go about bidding. If it is impossible for a female to enter the auction room, I must hire him to bargain for me.”
She turned to walk away. With a growl, Dixon caught her shoulder. “This is blackmail, Miss Lambarth!”
“Indeed, I do not mean it so,” she countered, suppressing a chuckle. He had done her a great favor and she ought not to be amused by his dilemma. “I’m sure Masters can find a hackney for me, if you wish to follow my advice and disavow all responsibility for the proceedings.”
“As if that would matter a farthing to Adam, after I brought you here. He’d be more likely to shoot me where I stood for abandoning you.” Looking both aggrieved and chagrined, he swept his hand across his perspiring brow. “Very well, Miss Lambarth, if you must have this horse, I suppose I must buy him. But only if you promise you will not ride him without myself and your groom present.”
Helena decided to allow him that one concession. “If you feel it necessary, Mr. Dixon. But I do assure you, I can handle the horse.” She lost the battle to restrain her mirth and a chuckle emerged. “I expect you no longer admire this ‘free-thinking individual’ quite so much.”
He gave her a half-resentful, half-amused glance. “Since you have so neatly hoist me with my own petard, I can’t in fairness begrudge you the victory. In future, though, I will be on my guard!”
“I should like to continue our friendship, but I am what I am, so ’tis best that you are forewarned,” she replied. “But come, let us discuss something we can agree upon. If the grays are as admirable as you say, I shall bow to your advice and purchase them.”
Though Mr. Dixon was still somewhat disgruntled, it appeared he was too fair-minded to hold a grudge, for by the time she approved the grays, they stopped for ices at Gunters and arrived back at St. James Square, he had recovered his good humor.
“Behold me whole perhaps for the last time, Miss Lambarth,” he said as he escorted her up the steps. “I return to Tattersalls to complete your commission, and when Adam sees the riding hack I’ve purchased for you, it shall likely be grass for breakfast between us.”
“If he quarrels with anyone, it should be with me,” Helena replied, giving him her hand to kiss. “By now he should know I form my own decisions, even in the face of well-intentioned advice to the contrary.”
“Perhaps. But I intend to insure my will is in order, just in case!” With a bow, he left her at the door.
BEING ENGAGED WITH HIS MAN of business the afternoon of Helena’s excursion to Tattersalls and spending that evening escorting his fiancée to a ball, Adam didn’t learn of Helena’s purchases until he arrived at his stables the following morning. As he brought Adam’s horse, the head groom asked whether the master meant to join Miss Lambarth and Mr. Dixon in the park, where they were putting Miss Lambarth’s new mount through his paces.
“Ah, so she purchased a horse, then?”
“Aye, sir. The auction folks brung him by late yesterday. Rather a handful fer a lady, I’d a’ said, iff’n anyone was to ’av asked me.”
Though Adam had intended to return to the solicitor’s office, the groom’s remarks made him uneasy. Lady Darnell had told him Dix had offered to help Helena find a mount. Adam had been happy she would have Dix’s expert opinion—even though he could not rid himself of the tiny nugget of resentment that Dix could escort Helena as often as he wished, actively pursuing his acquaintance with this intriguing lady, while Adam had to keep his distance.
Though he’d certainly failed to do so during that episode in the library. He’d thought he’d succeeded in armoring himself against the attraction that always sparked between them. He’d resisted her looking like a goddess in her gold dress, had even steeled himself to suggest her to Nathan as a possible match. So how had she broken through his defenses?
Perhaps it had been the scare her flight from the ballroom had given him. Or the aftermath of the almost uncontrollable rage that had burned in him at the possibility that some man had frightened or imposed upon her. Or perhaps the compassion he’d felt at seeing her in distress, or the satisfaction he’d experienced at being her rescuer, had lured him into letting down his guard.
Whatever breached his hold over it, when they reached the library, elder-brother concern had been swamped by desire, his mind overcome by memories of her garbed in white silk, lounging on his sofa, her sensuality calling to him like a siren’s. Nay, ’twas worse this time, for while that first night she had been surprised and hesitant, this time she had seemed to respond to the heat in him, leaning up for the kiss he’d almost been mesmerized enough to offer.
Ah, yes, she’d appeared eager to explore the desire she incited. But it was not for him to initiate her into passion’s embrace. He shook his head and shuddered at how close he’d come to dragging an innocent into scandal—his guest, a girl he was supposed to be protecting! Far better that Dix choose her horses, Nathan escort her to parties, Charis and his stepmother keep her company. Lest honor prove too fragile a curb on an attraction that had just shown him how unexpectedly it could flame out of control.
Still, she was in his care. If his groom, whose knowledge of horses he trusted, disapproved of the one she’d bought, he ought to check on her. Surely, he thought with a touch of disgust, in broad daylight in the park he’d manage to keep his appetites under control.
Leaping into the saddle, Adam set off for the park.
It was early enough that Hyde Park was virtually deserted when he guided his horse through the gates. After scanning the carriageway and seeing no one, he set off down Rotten Row. At the crest of the first hill, he spied a rider in the distance. A rider in a scarlet habit poised sidesaddle on a huge black horse, a description that proclaimed her identity even before he saw Dix’s chestnut gelding trotting beside her.
Anxiety mounting, Adam kicked his horse to a canter and went in pursuit. Just as he reached them, the skittish black, apparently spooked at hearing a horse approaching from behind him, veered sideways off the path and reared up, trying to unseat his rider.
Fear chilled his blood and a cry of warning caught in his throat. He watched in horror as Miss Lambarth fell backward, expecting at any moment to see her tumble beneath the dancing hoofs of her mount. But in the next instant he realized that, rather than being tossed to the ground or grabbing in panic at reins and saddle, Miss Lambarth had purposely thrown her head back—laughing.
“Excellent, my beauty,” she cried, and then must have commanded the horse to repeat the trick, for in the next moment he rose up again, forelegs pawing the air.
Adam realized that, far from being carried off, Miss Lambarth was in complete control of her mount. And what a spectacle they presented! The rearing black horse, the scarlet-clad woman riding him so easily the two seemed almost to merge into one, like an ancient pagan deity. The feral excitement of the two half-wild beings crackled in the air.
The elemental attraction Helena exuded washed over Adam in a powerful wave that stood every hair on end, dried the breath in his throat and engulfed him in an irresistible urge to tame and possess.
“Magnificent, isn’t he?” Miss Lambarth exclaimed, her eyes bright and her smile brilliant as she settled the horse back on four hoofs. “I just had to see if he would rear on command. Now for a gallop!” At the tap of her whip and the urging of her heels, the horse wheeled and exploded into a run.
When Adam managed to tear his gaze away from the racing horse and scarlet-clad rider to look over at Dix, his friend was still staring fixedly at Miss Lambarth, apparently oblivious to Adam’s arrival. Mirrored on Dix’s face Adam saw the same awe and lust still churning in his own breast.
A primal, instinctive jealousy fired him to rage. “Hell and the devil, Dix, have you lost your wits? Whatever possessed you to allow Miss Lambarth to buy such a horse? I thought she was about to be trampled!”
Startled, his best friend whipped his attention over to Adam. Strong emotion must still be roiling in him, as well, for his normally easygoing face turned hostile.
“But, you notice, she was not trampled,” he responded. “In fact she handled the horse as well as you or I would have, and better than any woman I know. Despite that, I did everything in my power to prevent her buying Pegasus.”
“Pegasus? The beast should be named Charon, since he looks apt to ferry her straight to Hades! And I note how successfully you dissuaded her. Heavens, man, her dress makes her singular enough. Do you not realize that making a spectacle of herself on that beast, as intriguing as you may find it, could tarnish her reputation? If you have so little regard for protecting her good name, I shall have to forbid your escorting her!”
“She would command attention regardless of her mount. Galloping a flashy beast in the park will not harm her reputation as much as bidding for the horse at Tattersalls, which, I assure you, she threatened to do if I refused to bargain for her. Besides—” Dix eyed him narrowly “—I suspect you enjoyed that ‘spectacle’ quite as much as I. There’s something about her that wraps a fist about a man’s throat so he can scarcely breathe.” Dix shook his head. “I may have to marry her before she drives me crazy.”
“Maybe you need to stay away from her,” Adam retorted.
“Maybe you need to take your own advice,” Dix flashed back. “I’ve seen how you look at her. At least I’m free to act. May I remind you that you’re engaged? I suggest that you hie yourself back to your fiancée and stop trying to put blocks in the path of those who value Miss Lambarth as much for her spirit as for her…passionate beauty.”
At that moment Helena came galloping back and pulled up the black beside them. Cheeks flushed from the wind, eyes alight, she once again exuded a sensual allure that tightened Adam’s chest and sped his pulse.
“What cowards they are, Pegasus,” she said, patting the horse’s lathered neck. “They didn’t even try to catch us. But you see,” she continued, looking over to the men, “he will be quite docile now. He needs to run, not be shut up in a box stall for days on end.”
Still glowing, she turned to Dix. “I can’t thank you enough for obtaining him, Mr. Dixon. Darnell, I hope you’ve not been taking Mr. Dixon to task for purchasing me such a spirited mount. As you have seen, I have no trouble managing him. Indeed, we understand each other perfectly.”
Before Adam could reply, after a pointed look at him, Dix said, “No, we’ve just been agreeing that the two of you create…an arresting picture. But so appealing, I hope you will allow me to ride with you every time you go out, to keep the importunate from bothering you.”
She laughed. “Stuff! No one could catch us anyway! Though, if you choose to ride early enough, Mr. Dixon, I shall be pleased to have your escort. Now, let’s have an easy canter to cool Pegasus down before any more riders arrive in the park. You will accompany us, Darnell?”
“No, Miss Lambarth. I was on my way to my solicitor’s and just happened by. I shall leave you in Mr. Dixon’s—” he gritted his teeth over the word “—capable care.”
After exchanging a curt nod with his friend, Adam wheeled his mount and headed out of the park. Dix’s sharp words stung, all the more so because they were true. Adam did desire her. In fact, so jealous and furious had lust rendered him, it had taken all his control and breeding to cede her escort to Dix and ride out of the park.
Hie himself back to his fiancée, indeed! Thank heavens Miss Standish did not rouse him to such uncomfortable excesses of emotion. Riding a firestorm from anger to lust to jealousy and back would not be a comfortable way to live. Much better to have a wife whom one respected and admired, who inspired one with more temperate emotions.
Or was the fact that Miss Lambarth could spark in him feelings—both lust and respect—so much more intense than those roused by his fiancée a warning that he might have been too precipitous in his choice?
Had his engagement to Priscilla been a mistake?
Shocked and dismayed by the thought, Adam’s mind fled from that conclusion. Since his engagement was a fait accompli and could not be broken, there was no point pursuing such reflections, he told himself firmly. He would leave Miss Lambarth to Dix and fix his thoughts on the business that took him to his solicitors.
Forcing himself to begin mentally reviewing reports on acreage and yields, he absently directed his horse toward the City. But that awful snippet of doubt, like a burr on a saddle blanket, stuck at the back of his mind and refused to be dislodged.