Gabriel D'Arcy. Ann LethbridgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
does not like to be kept waiting.’
‘Your mare is as beautiful as her mistress.’
‘And far more impatient.’
He chuckled. She was clearly a woman skilled in the art of flirtation with a lively wit. She would keep his thoughts from growing too dark for an hour or two. She might even be willing to slake his lust. His body hardened. He quelled his surge of desire with ruthless determination. He had other more important matters on his mind. Like leaving London for Cornwall at the earliest opportunity, which he would do as soon as he was sure the countess was harmless.
Taking her hand, he escorted her down the steps onto the flagstones. ‘Then I must not keep either of you waiting. I have ordered our breakfast for nine.’
Her blue eyes sparkled. ‘You are very forward, milor’.’
He inclined his head. ‘Faint heart does not win fair lady.’ He gestured to the curricle. ‘May I assist you?’
‘Certainement.’
As he lifted her, his fingers spanned her slender waist and, despite her very feminine curves, he was aware of the lithe strength beneath his hands. A woman who rode frequently and hard.
Once more his body stirred at an image of the kind of riding she might enjoy that would involve them being alone together. Between the sheets. Once more the urgency of his visceral response surprised him. He was without doubt going to enjoy their association, no matter how brief.
He walked around to his side of the carriage and climbed up. ‘Your man will follow behind?’
‘He will.’
‘Let ’em go, Jimmy,’ Gabe said. The little tiger jumped clear and Gabe set his horses in motion.
Countess Vilandry frowned. ‘Your tiger does not come with us?’
Yes, this lady was unusually quick witted. ‘We have your groom.’
‘Yes, but who will mind your horses while we ride? Oh!’ She laughed. ‘You, Milor’ Mooreshead, are a very bad man.’
He grinned at her. ‘I’ve been on the town a long time, Countess. I have not failed to learn how to make the most of the company of a lovely and enticing woman.’
She settled herself more comfortably on the seat. ‘I do not respond well to flattery.’
‘And if it is the truth, Countess?’
She shook her head. ‘Incorrigible.’ She said it the French way and the caress in her voice was unmistakable. Velvet and honey and fine old brandy wrapped up in one word.
‘But you should know, Milor’ Mooreshead,’ she continued as he wove between the slow traffic of carters and tradesmen about their business, ‘your reputation precedes you. I have been warned that there isn’t a lady in London who does not fear for her virtue when you smile her way.’
‘Call me Gabe,’ he said, deliberately avoiding her teasing glance by pretending to concentrate on feathering between two slow-moving vehicles.
‘Gabe?’
‘Short for Gabriel.’
‘A devil named for an angel? Très amusant.’
‘Indeed. But do not tell me you did not already know.’ She had to know his name. And he would not have her think him an idiot. Nor did he want to play word games. Or not much anyway. He wanted his suspicions put to rest. Though that didn’t make a scrap of sense, when he needed to learn just who had been sent and by whom. It really would be so much easier if she was the one. He could deal with her today and leave for Cornwall first thing in the morning. He turned his head and gave her a quizzical smile so he could read her expression.
Her eyes danced with amusement as if she had nothing on her mind but easy flirtation. ‘Tiens, you will spoil the jest?’
‘It grows stale with age.’
She laughed. A light bright sound that spread unaccustomed warmth in his chest. ‘So it is good we have such staleness out of the way, then. And you will call me Nicky. Nicoletta is such a mouthful for the English tongue, don’t you think?’
‘Nicky,’ he said, tasting it on his tongue, sharp and tart, yet, like her, exotic. ‘It suits you.’
A little frown creased her forehead. ‘A compliment?’
‘A woman as lovely as you does not lack for compliments.’
‘Lovely? Mais non. Not at all. I think they call it je ne sais quoi, n’est-ce pas?’
‘It seems we are at point non plus. At a standstill in this war of words.’
‘War?’ She raised a brow. ‘Surely not. Relax, mon ami, and enjoy a ride on what appears to be the coming of a very fine day.’
He laughed and helped her out of the carriage. He could barely remember the last time he had found a woman so enticingly amusing. It was like coming into the light after days below ground. And she was right. Whatever she was, lovely did not adequately describe it. The sum of her was more attractive than the individual parts. And therefore undefinable. She was not going to be as easy to figure out as he had assumed. Not easy, but not impossible. And perversely he was looking forward to learning her secrets. And if his initial suspicion proved correct and she did come as a spy from the French? His chest tightened. Then he would leave her convinced that her masters had nothing to fear in regard to his loyalty. That way this vibrant creature wouldn’t have to die. At least, not this time.
‘I will certainly be interested to see you put that mare of yours through her paces,’ Gabe said, as they mounted.
She glanced back at his gelding, a big bay, strong enough to hold a man of his weight and height and still go like the wind. ‘I’ll wager my glove that Peridot and I will leave you in our dust.’
Again a challenge. It must be part of her nature and it was alluring as all hell. ‘Now that I look forward to seeing.’ He clapped his heels to Bacchus’s flanks.
* * *
The early-morning breeze stung Nicky’s cheeks. The dew on the grass glittered like diamonds. She felt carefree. Giddy. As if the Countess was nothing but a bad dream and she was young again. Thank goodness, her companion was out in front. The ineffably charming Mooreshead was far too intelligent to insult her by letting her win. But one look at her face and he’d see the cracks in her hard-won walls. She let go a breath and gathered her composure.
Clearly Paul had been right to repeat his warnings last night. The man had a dark and dangerous allure. Beneath the urbane veneer lay finely honed steel forged in a crucible of fire. What turned a man with every advantage of position, wealth, intelligence and education into a traitor? She would have to be clever indeed to expose his treachery and bring him to justice.
The thought of this physically beautiful man mounting the gallows robbed the day of its brightness.
She forced herself not to think of the end, only the means, and urged Peridot to greater efforts as the big, rangy bay drew a good length in front. No catching them now. At the end of the Row, Gabe circled his horse around and greeted her with a boyish smile that caused her heart to flutter.
Mortified by her instinctively feminine response, she halted in front of him with a smile that felt forced. At her command, Peridot curtsied low, in acknowledgement of his win.
The smile turned into a delighted grin. ‘What a little beauty. And fast.’
‘Not fast enough,’ she said lightly. ‘He’s not very pretty, your animal, but he is strong.’
Gabe patted his mount’s neck. ‘I see you know horseflesh.’
She pouted, but not so much that he would think her serious. ‘If I knew it well enough, I would not have wagered one of my new gloves.’ Repressing the tingle