Page 14 of Stealing a Scoundrel's Heart
The man turned to face her. Blast it all, it was Lord Foxton, not some footman, and the scowl he wore was a tad terrifying. She could smile and sit back and wait, or… Marjorie leaned forward, crooked her index finger, and motioned for Lord Foxton to come closer to the widow. To her surprise, he complied. She opened her mouth, but what was she to say? She gripped her skirts tightly and, before she could change mind and comply with his original request for her to wait quietly and patiently, she blurted, “I’d like to stretch my legs… just for a moment.” She didn’t feel the need to addmy lordor formally address the man she viewed like a brother. She’d always wanted a brother, like her friends had. She supposed if she had one, she’d not get so flustered when conversing with the opposite sex.
Lord Foxton’s fierce scowl remained but he nodded and opened the door for her. “Allow me to escort you, Lady Whalen.”
“Oh please, call me Marrie, all my close friends do.” Not that she cared to be called Marrie. She actually preferred and liked her full name, Marjorie, but she’d never bothered to correct either Dorinda or Elise. Marjorie lifted her gaze and at Lord Foxton’s shocked expression she quickly added, “or you may call me Marjorie, or Lady Marjorie, or Lady Whalen…” She stopped babbling and placed her hand in the gentleman’s arm to descend the stairs. A good thing, for her legs buckled. But before Lord Foxton could reach forward to catch her, large hands wrapped around her waist from behind. She found herself floating through the air until her back was crushed up against a very muscular chest.
She craned her neck and looked up at the man. “Lord Dartman! Unhand me, my lord.”
He spun her around to face him and caught her by her shoulders. He leaned down until they were face to face. His eyes blazed with anger. She’d seen the flash of hot ire in her father’s gaze frequently enough. She held her position. She wasn't afraid of Alister. Words of apology never altered her father’s irrational behavior or beliefs, but Alister wasn’t her father. She summoned the courage to speak what was in her heart. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “My thanks for catching me. I shall owe you a boon for such heroic efforts.”
He turned and his warm breath tickled her neck. “Then I shall claim my boon now. Tell Foxton you retract your earlier offer. He is to refer to you as Lady Whalen, and only Lady Whalen; that is until…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat.
“Until when, Alister? Untilyousay?” She stepped back and placed her fisted hands behind her. Men! Yes, they had shared a kiss, but she was a widow. There was no need to rush to the altar. No one had seen them and even so, everyone knew a kiss with a widow didn’t result in the gentleman becoming honor bound to wed. Every single widow understood that marriage curtailed a woman’s freedom and rights. Maxwell had been kind enough to arrange for her to live independently, and she wasn’t about to forgo the opportunity. Not even for a man who revived her maidenhood dreams of marrying for love.
Alister ran his thumb along her jaw. “My apologies. I shall rephrase my request. Please allow me the same freedom to address you as you granted Foxton.” The muscles in his jaw were strained and like her, he clasped his fisted hands behind his back.
She blinked up at Alister. He hadn’t been angry—he had been jealous. A mistake easily made, for no man had ever been jealous over her before.
“Granted.”
The beaming smile Alister gave her stole her breath. “It appears we may be delayed awhile.”
“What is the matter?”
“His lordship that owns the lands we are traveling through is a highwayman in disguise. He has instructed his farmers to blockade the road until travelers pay a fee. A rather hefty fee.” Alister looked up at the sky that had darkened with rain clouds. “The roads are not well maintained. And the tenants are instructed to charge exorbitant fees for rooms should travelers become stuck and need of a warm meal and a roof over their heads.”
“Who is this lordship?”
“The farmer refuses to state the name of the extortionist for fear of retribution. And I refuse to pay the fee. We are at an impasse.”
“Mayhap I can be of assistance.” She reached out and touched Alister’s arm to gain his full attention. “I managed my father’s correspondence for years, and Maxwell allowed me to assist when his steward fell sick this past summer, and…”
“Maxwell, you devil,” Alister blurted and then grabbed her hand and led her through the flock of sheep until they reached a man that could have been no more than a few years older than Alister. “Mr. Paynes, allow me to introduce to you Lady Whalen. She is the woman we are escorting to Brighton.”
Mr. Paynes looked her over from head to toe. Marjorie was accustomed to being examined like livestock, but Mr. Paynes’ kind eyes were lacking the disapproval she normally confronted in similar situations. She executed a queen-worthy curtsy. “A good day to you, Mr. Paynes.”
The shepherd wiped his hands on his trousers and then bowed. “A g’day to you, ma’am.”
“Mr. Paynes, since we shall be crossing paths quite frequently, we should become better acquainted, wouldn’t you agree?”
Mr. Paynes nodded enthusiastically.
“Let’s take a stroll, shall we?” She placed a hand up to stall Alister and she added, “Alone.”
The wide-eyed shock upon Alister’s face bolstered her confidence. “Come along, Mr. Paynes, we have much to discuss.”
Stunned into compliance, Alister stood frozen. What happened to the timid, tongue tied, innocent woman he’d met in the Fairmont gardens? His gaze was glued to the sway of Marjorie’s hips as she walked away alongside the shepherd who was obviously infatuated with the beautiful woman next to him.
“Where the bloody hell is Lady Whalen off to?” Foxton asked as he came to stand next to Alister.
“Nowhere out of sight, that’s for certain.”
Leaving Whistlestop and Hurlington behind, Alister and Foxton trailed behind Marjorie. Every time the woman tilted her head in laughter, Alister wanted to snatch her away. “What do you suppose she finds so humorous?”
“Not a clue.” Foxton lengthened his stride, and Alister followed suit.
After strolling along the road for good ten yards, Marjorie and Mr. Paynes turned about and headed back in the direction of the coaches that were still surrounded by the flock of sheep.
Alister and Foxton waited for them to approach, but Marjorie linked her arm through Mr. Paynes’s and steered the shepherd around them.
