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Authors: The Irresistible Earl

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BOOK: Regina Scott
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Lord Allyndale reached out and touched her chin, the leather of his gloves warm against her skin. He lifted her chin so that her gaze met his. His gaze was softer now, the blue deeper, like the depths of the North Sea but so much more alive. “I’m sure your father regretted more having to leave you.”

Oh, how she wanted to believe that. Tears burned her eyes, and she had to look away, blinking them back. “I promised him I’d keep looking, that I’d find the
incarnata
for him. It was all he asked of me.”

“Well, then,” he said, hand falling away, “perhaps after we finish today we should try the North Bay tomorrow. I understand it is considerably less inhabited. Surely the shells there are more likely to remain undisturbed.”

The North Bay! Oh, how she’d longed to try it, but Mrs. Price would never countenance such a use of their carriage, and Meredee was not much of a rider. She’d might as well have wished to visit the snows of Antarctica. Yet surely it would take much of the day to reach it and return. Would he really be so generous with his time, for no other reason than to further her quest?

She eyed him. His head was cocked, his gaze intent on hers. She’d never met a man other than her father who could so tightly focus his attention. She could imagine Chase Dearborn in Parliament, rallying his peers to his cause. Surely no one ever refused him anything.


We,
my lord?” she asked. “It might be messy. In fact, it might require you to muddy your boots.”

“I never muddy my boots, Miss Price,” he replied, but the twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable. “However, rest assured that I mean to accompany you. How could a gentleman in good conscience do otherwise? After all, if something threatened, you might have trouble running away barefooted.”

She blushed at his teasing reminder of the state of her toes, dug into the golden sands. She should thank him for his kindness, ask him what time he’d like to leave, but something made her hesitate. If it were anyone else she knew offering her a trip to the North Bay, she would have jumped at the chance, barefoot or not. So why did she feel as if she should run away now, before this man came to mean too much to her? Before she began refining on what could only be a kindness?

She could feel him watching her, waiting for her answer. Oh, but she would not give in to these craven feelings, not when she had a chance to fulfill her promise to her father. She squared her shoulders and
met Chase’s gaze. “Very well, my lord. I would be delighted to accompany you to the North Bay.”

She could only hope that she’d truly feel delight once she forced the butterflies from her stomach.

Chapter Seven

B
oth Algernon and Mrs. Price demanded an explanation of Meredee’s disappearance when she returned to the inn later that morning. She found them in Mrs. Price’s bedchamber, next to the sitting room they’d also engaged for their stay. Mrs. Price’s room was the largest of the set, with creamy yellow walls and a dusky green-patterned carpet. With the deep green bed hangings on the walnut bed, Meredee often felt she’d wandered into a forest glade rather than a bedchamber.

Mrs. Price had retreated to the bed and sat against the carved headboard, pillows piled behind her, reading by the light of the south-facing window nearby. But when she heard Meredee’s plans for the next day, she dropped her book and threw up her hands.

“Tell her, Algernon,” she insisted, frowning at him where he stood gazing out the window. “Tell her that
she cannot go jaunting about the countryside and ignore her duties.”

Guilt’s familiar fingers tugged at Meredee’s heart. She glanced at her stepbrother to see if he also thought her trip was so ill-timed. He was dressed in his usual bright colors, his cravat tied in a complicated fold. But she did not like the pallor of his face.

“And what duties would those be, Mother?” Algernon inquired. He turned, spread his poppy-colored coattails, and took a seat on the curved-arm chair next to the bed. “Seeing to your least whim or compromising her principles to spy for me?”

Mrs. Price clutched her lacy robe near her heart, as if he’d sorely wounded her. Meredee reached out from where she sat on her stepmother’s bed and touched the knee of his cinnamon-colored trousers. “Is something wrong, Algernon?”

He shrugged. “Just a little bluedeviled.” He nodded toward the bed. “Forgive me, Mother. I’m locked in a box with the world passing me by. It’s making me churlish.”

“Well, certainly,” Mrs. Price said, lowering her hand. “But you mustn’t fret, dearest. Lord Allyndale shows no inclination to repeat his threats. I believe you may be safe in showing your face.”

Meredee nodded, withdrawing her touch. “Perhaps if you spoke to him, Algernon.”

Her stepbrother rose and began his pacing, the shine of his high-topped boots flashing with each
step. “Not yet. He was here this morning, looking for someone. I don’t think he saw me, but he rode out of here fast. If only I could be sure I wasn’t the source of his urgency.”

Mrs. Price heaved a sigh. “Then I suppose Meredee must go with him tomorrow. And I shall have to go along as chaperone.”

Algernon paused. “What about Allyndale’s sister?”

“I’m not sure Lady Phoebe would appreciate traveling to the North Bay,” Meredee said, trying to envision the girl standing still long enough to spy the
incarnata.

“Nonsense,” Algernon said, resuming his pacing. “I have it on good authority that she is a bruising rider. I’m sure she’d be delighted to accompany you.”

Meredee had a hard time imagining Phoebe as a bruising anything, but Algernon seemed to have made up his mind, for he rubbed his hands together with obvious glee. “Yes, this will serve all our purposes nicely. You have a chaperone, and Mother can avoid exposure to the elements.”

He was entirely too delighted with himself. “And what do you gain?” Meredee asked.

His smile blossomed. “Why the knowledge that the Dearborns are safely occupied. Freedom, dear sister. Freedom!”

 

To Meredee’s surprise, Lady Phoebe was delighted to accompany them the next day. Her response to
Meredee’s note was filled with exclamation points and capital letters. “We shall have the BEST Time!!!” Meredee began to hope she was right.

Lord Allyndale himself drove into the coaching yard a little before seven that morning. Given the route they must travel to reach the bay, they had to leave early to catch even a portion of the morning’s low tide. His jaunty curricle was painted a deep yellow with gilt appointments and seats of brown tooled leather. A regal groom rode behind, and the two perfectly matched black horses at the front looked ready to run. Unlike Algernon, the earl was dressed in a sensible gray tweed wool coat and chamois breeches buttoned at the knee. His smile as Meredee came out of the inn to greet him told her he was just as eager for their adventure.

It seemed that Algernon was right about Lady Phoebe’s love of riding, for she was dressed in a habit of fine blue wool trimmed with black braid and seated on a dainty roan mare. She adjusted her plumed riding hat to a rakish angle on her curls and beamed at Meredee. “To find the elusive
incarnata!

Meredee was ready. She’d worn the practical blue cotton gown she used when hunting, a straw bonnet to shield her from the sun along the way and her high boots. She also carried her supplies in her father’s brown leather case. The groom hopped down to help her store it in the boot, and Lord Allyndale watched from his seat.

“I thought perhaps we’d need provisions as well,” he said when she eyed the wicker hamper taking up half the space.

“And do you intend to stay a fortnight?” she teased.

He smiled as he climbed down to help Meredee into the carriage. “As long as it takes to see you triumphant, Miss Price.”

He handed her up onto the seat and took his place beside her. She’d only ridden in an open carriage a few times, and never with such a handsome gentleman beside her. She found herself acutely aware of his body near hers, the least movement of his hands as he took up the reins and released the brake. When he flashed her a grin, her answering smile felt wobbly.

Phoebe was turning her horse to take up position as if she were their outrider. “I told him we could bring the coachman and the traveling coach,” she confided to Meredee, leaning precariously out of her seat as she passed. “But he insisted it was more fun to drive himself.”

“And how else am I to prove to Miss Price that I’m not some vain popinjay more interested in my clothes than my company?” he responded with a raised brow and a twinkle in his eyes.

Was that why he objected to Algernon? Hardly enough reason to threaten a duel! And who was he to talk? Algernon might parade about in fancy clothes,
but that didn’t stop him from doing what was necessary. Lord Allyndale refused to muddy his boots!

But he was a crack driver. He threaded the curricle through the busy streets so smoothly she found she could relax against the seat and merely enjoy the ride. The sun was slanting through morning clouds, warming the air and gilding this building and that in shafts of light. Meredee clasped her gloved hands in her lap and sighed with pure pleasure.

“You said you’d spent some time in Scarborough,” he ventured as they started up the hill out of town. “I must admit this is my first visit.”

“I feel as if it’s nearly my first visit,” Meredee replied. “So much has changed in the last five years, the lamps to light the streets at night, the new public gardens. But some things remain the same.” She pointed to the square stone tower rising to the right of the carriage. “That’s St. Mary’s.”

“And what is special about St. Mary’s?”

“My parents were married there for one,” she offered. “And they have a choir of orphans who sing on Sundays.”

“Then I must take care to have us back in time for services tomorrow.”

Meredee smiled at the teasing tone. “You must take care to have us back by supper, my lord. My stepmother will have apoplexy otherwise.”

He chuckled. “And Mrs. Price did not wish to join us today?”

“No, indeed. Nor would she wish to visit the wilds of Africa, which I am persuaded she equates with the North Bay. But I can hardly wait.”

The blacks seemed to sense her eagerness, for they pulled the curricle swiftly up the hill and out into open country. The gentle fields were covered in short grass where creamy sheep wandered. Lady Phoebe called the occasional question as they rode along. She perched on her little mare as easily as on a padded chair in her drawing room. Meredee still had trouble imagining the girl taking fences and pounding over rough terrain, but she certainly seemed comfortable on the sidesaddle.

They reached the North Bay by nine, having stopped once in a copse of trees to rest the horses. The road roughened as they approached, winding down through overhanging trees to break out onto the shore and sunlight. As at the South Bay, the hillside edging the North Bay curved in a crescent that dipped in the middle and rose in higher and higher cliffs on either side, ending at the castle headland on the south and a rocky outcropping on the north. With the tide out, the arc of sand seemed to stretch for miles, the expanse broken by uneven lumps of dark rock and pockets of tidal pools. The only sound was the whisper of the waves. Not a soul was in sight. Meredee pressed her fingers to her lips in wonder.

As soon as the carriage rolled to a stop along the cliff side, she began preparing herself for the search.
While the groom settled the horses, she retrieved her father’s case, pulled out pins to hoist up her skirts and removed her bonnet.

“Not barefoot this time?” Lord Allyndale asked when she came around from behind the curricle.

“Not today. The sands on the South Bay are some of the firmest around. I don’t know what I’ll find here.”

He glanced down at his boots with a frown.

Meredee smiled. “If you stay away from the tide’s edge, my lord, you should be able to save them.”

He shook his head. “I see my driving failed to impress. What a vain creature you must think me. It’s just that I find it difficult to locate boots that actually fit comfortably. This pair was made by a master boot-maker who has since passed on, and his apprentice is not in his master’s league.”

“Ah, so you are being practical. Then let me give you another practical task. We would be wise to find two tree limbs down from the storm—about six feet long and fairly straight.”

“You go right ahead,” Lady Phoebe said, patting her horse where she stood beside it. “I will freely admit to any amount of vanity so long as I do not have to ruin my riding habit.” With a giggle, she walked up the beach into the shade of some trees and sat on a grassy tuffet where the groom had spread a blanket.

The last thing Meredee did was take out a bottle of
ointment and rub it over her exposed neck, face and hands. The earl took a sniff and recoiled.

“Tell me this somehow attracts mollusks,” he said, arm half raised as if to cover his nose.

Meredee laughed. “On the contrary—it repels, my lord.”

“I’d never have guessed.” Something must have buzzed nearby, for he slapped at his ear.

Meredee held out the bottle. “Here, you may need this. All this brackish water attracts any manner of insects. My father swore this ointment kept them away.”

“I can believe it.” He shook his head. “But I should be fine without it. Gnats are no strangers to the moors.”

“Is that where your estate lies?” Meredee asked as they set off down the shore. The breeze brushed her cheeks, bringing with it the tang of brine.

“On the north moors, yes. Just outside Great Ayton. Like looking across the sea here, the sky seems to go on forever, and it’s so quiet you can hear the birds calling.”

She could not miss the ache in his voice. “How kind you are to escort your sister about society instead.”

He was quiet a moment, taking her hand to help her over a ridge of rock that rose a foot out of the sand. When they reached the other side, he did not release her, pulling her up short. “You are the kind
one, Miss Price. You befriend Phoebe, you keep your stepmother company, you allow me to take part in your dreams. I have never met anyone like you.”

The timbre of his voice, so full of wonder, touched a place inside her she’d all but forgotten. “You honor me, my lord.”

He peered down into her eyes. “Are we perhaps beyond
my lord
and
Miss Price?
My friends use my given name, Chase. May I count you as one of them?”

It was a courtesy, but suddenly she felt as if she’d been peering through windows for years, watching life go on for other people. He offered to let her in, to let her close. Did she dare open herself to him, take a chance that this time might be different? Worse, her stepbrother’s fears lay like a shadow over her. Would Chase Dearborn want to be her friend, want to be anywhere near her if her knew who she was?

His blue eyes clouded, and he released her hand. “Forgive me. I have obviously overstepped my bounds.”

“No, no,” Meredee hurried to assure him. “I am delighted you consider me a friend, my…Chase. You must call me Meredee.”

A smile grew, more breathtaking than the sweep of the sea. “It would be a pleasure.”

A wave splashed Meredee’s boot, and Chase dodged out of its way. “Well,” she said with a laugh.
“I take that to mean we should get back to work. Let’s see what we can find, shall we?”

For the next two hours, they roamed the sands side by side. She showed him the feathery tongue of feeding barnacles, the dark shine of mussels clustering on rocky outcroppings, and the scuttling walk of clever hermit crabs who also liked to appropriate shells. With each wonder, his smile grew wider, his gaze more intense. He was the one who pointed out silver fingerlings darting in the shallows, the spout out at sea that might have been a passing whale. With her father, she’d been an observer, someone to marvel at his finds. With Chase, she was a participant, a partner. She’d never felt so alive.

At length, he looked toward the trees with a frown. “Where’s Phoebe gotten to?”

He sounded more annoyed than concerned, but Meredee straightened from where she’d been examining a tidal pool and scanned the shore, as well. “Perhaps waiting bored her. We have been at it a while.”

His frown deepened. “Would you mind returning to the carriage for a moment? She’s probably asleep on the cushions, but I’d like to make certain.”

Knowing how much he worried about his sister, Meredee nodded. “Some food and drink would be most welcome. And perhaps we can persuade Lady Phoebe to join us.”

He grinned at her. “You’d have better luck getting me to slather on your dire concoction.”

“Ah, but I’m not the one who’ll need salve tonight,” she countered, pointing to a series of raised welts along his collar.

BOOK: Regina Scott
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