The Bachelor Read online

  “Nothing. Except a position as the sister of a duke with an estate and title and great wealth.”

  “When you say it like that I sound spoiled,” she muttered.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” Bloody hell, every time he opened his mouth, he insulted her. He thought for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. “Everyone wants something that is theirs alone. If you had returned with your brother, you would have lived in his shadow the way I live in your family’s shadow. If anyone understands why you didn’t want that, it’s me.”

  Looking gratified by his words, she slid her hand in the crook of his elbow. His blood warmed at the touch. God help him, how he wished he didn’t respond to her like this.

  Then again, he felt amazingly calmer now. No doubt her chatter, her very presence, had something to do with that.

  So he allowed himself to enjoy it for the moment as they moved down the cobblestone street, his cane tapping the stones rhythmically.

  “Why, sir,” she teased him, “is that a smile I see tugging at your lips? Oh, now I really do wish I could paint. I would love to capture the image of Major Wolfe’s smile in the wild. Otherwise, no one will believe it exists.”

  “Joshua’s smile in the wild.” He allowed his smile to broaden as he stared down at her. “You heard what your mother said. ‘You needn’t speak so formally.’”

  Her eyes shone as green as the commons they were skirting. “Then you must call me Gwyn.”

  He hadn’t really been serious, but now that he’d spoken the words, he rather liked the idea of calling her by her given name. And they were sort of family.

  No, not family in the least. Even his family had not seen him do what he’d done earlier in the street. “But no given names in public,” he said.

  “Right,” she agreed, with an unaccountable softness in her voice. “Only in private.”

  The word “private” sent his heart pumping. The idea of her being with him in private made a wild exultation course through his veins.

  An unwise exultation.

  Then, as if to remind him that desiring her was madness, his stomach growled.

  She laughed. “Now I think we should return to the inn. You seem calm enough. And perhaps that’s why you reacted so . . . violently earlier. A fellow as tall and muscular as you can’t go too long without a meal.”

  “True,” he said, though despite his hunger he found himself oddly loath to return.

  They turned and headed back for the Golden Oak. “You know,” he said, “you never did tell me what your twin said to run off that Hazlehurst fellow.”

  She frowned. “You’re correct. I didn’t.”

  “Gwyn, tell me. I want to know.”

  For several moments, she was silent. Then she dragged in a heavy breath. “Oh, very well.” She walked a few more steps. “Thorn paid him to leave Berlin. For all I know, he paid him to join the . . . er . . . navy, too.”

  Joshua gave a low whistle. “If I had tried that with Beatrice, she would have, to use your phrasing, ‘handed me my bollocks in a box.’”

  “I should have,” Gwyn said blithely. Although she sounded nonchalant, he couldn’t help noting the heightened color in her cheeks.

  “Surely your brother’s reason for paying the man off was sound,” he said, imagining himself in such a position. “Once the fellow took the money, he proved himself a fortune-hunter, and you would not want such a man as a husband, would you?”

  “Of course not. But it was still presumptuous of Thorn.”

  “Clearly. Although your brother must have offered the man a great deal of money indeed to have made Hazlehurst willing to turn down a chance at your dowry.”

  “It wasn’t just the money, to be honest, because Thorn offered him only a few thousand pounds. But Thorn also told him that if . . . er . . . Hazlehurst did attempt to elope with me, he would cut us both off.”

  “Ah. Do you think he would have done it?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “It hardly mattered. Hazlehurst wasn’t willing to gamble on losing my fortune, so he grabbed his bird in the hand and ran for all he was worth.” She looked up at Joshua. “You say that you are cynical about love and marriage? Well, I’m beyond cynical. Knowing that most men see me as a walking bank has a way of keeping me from liking them.”

  “So that’s why you’re thirty and still unmarried. I did wonder. You seem to be exactly the kind of woman gentlemen in society want.”

  She laughed bitterly. “You clearly haven’t been in society for a while or you would realize I am nowhere near the kind of woman gentlemen want. They prefer wives who will hand over their dowries and never attempt to have a say in how the money is used. They want women who keep silent about anything that matters and who only speak to say, ‘Yes, dear,’ ‘Whatever you want, dear,’ and ‘You are my lord and master, dear.’”

  “It can’t be as bad as all that,” Joshua said. “I don’t like high society any better than you apparently do, but Grey seems to listen to Beatrice, and that’s impressive, considering that Beatrice is the most impudent woman I’ve ever met.”

  “More impudent than I?” Gwyn asked, looking expectantly at him.

  Bloody hell. “I . . . er . . . believe it would be wise of me to refrain from comparing the two of you. I can imagine no situation in which my answer would please you. And though you may not know how to shoot, that pin sticking out of your hat looks downright lethal.”

  Just as he’d hoped, that made her laugh. “Why, Joshua, you can be almost charming when you please.”

  “Don’t get used to it. According to my sister, I only manage that feat once a month or so.”

  “Surely it’s at least twice a month,” she said with a grin. But he’d stopped listening. “Does that fellow ahead of us look suspicious to you?”

  “What fellow?”

  “Don’t glance around.” He covered her hand with his. “We’re going to stroll past the carriage house now. Look up at me and talk.”

  “About what?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think he can hear us. I just need an excuse to stare in your general direction while we walk past so I can see what this chap is doing inside.”

  She gazed up at him. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit overly suspicious? Perhaps you’re still reacting to what happened earlier.”

  “No. The fellow entering the carriage house isn’t wearing the inn’s livery, and if he were on the staff of the inn, he would be scurrying to help change the horses on that coach that just pulled through the archway. What’s more, before he went into the carriage house, he surveyed the area to see if the ostler or the grooms were watching.”

  “I . . . I hadn’t noticed any of that.”

  “It’s a hazard of being a Royal Marine. I notice everything.”

  “Did he notice us?”

  “No. He was looking down toward the archway and not up the road to where we were. He was too busy checking to make sure no one hired by the inn was around to see.” He smiled at her even as his eyes were scanning the inside of the carriage house. “Now laugh, if you can make it sound natural.”

  “Tell me a joke, and I will.”

  “Your hat is on backward,” he said.

  She laughed. “It is not. And that isn’t a joke.”

  “It got you to laugh, didn’t it?” He glanced behind her, but with no lanterns yet lit inside the carriage house, it was too dim to see much. “You should go into the inn proper and join your family while I get a better look at what that fellow is doing inside.”

  “Not on your life,” she said. “Besides, two sets of eyes are better than one.”

  “True. Except that I will have to follow him once he comes out.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll need to determine who his master is.”

  “All right.” But she looked confused by why he was so intent on figuring out who the chap was.

  He understood that. It was merely a gut instinct that told him this fellow wasn’t to be
trusted. But he’d learned in battle never to question such instincts.

  After they had fully passed the carriage house, he tugged her over to the side of the entrance and looked around the edge. Fortunately, Thornstock’s carriage had been the last one in, so it was close by. Unfortunately, while Joshua could tell that the suspicious fellow was altering something on the equipage, Joshua couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. He’d have to return later and examine the coach thoroughly, after he’d followed the fellow.

  Suddenly, the chap hurried toward the entrance. Damn, he was coming out right now. There was nowhere to hide and not enough time to run, even if Joshua could. In seconds, the fellow would see them and wonder why they were lingering so close to the carriage house when they’d sauntered past several minutes before.

  Joshua looked down at her, his mind racing. Then he did the only thing that would both hide their faces and make it believable that they were still close by. “Play along,” he murmured.

  And pulling her against him, he covered her mouth with his.

  Chapter Six

  Gwyn froze. Joshua was kissing her. Kissing her. Although, come to think of it, he wasn’t kissing her so much as putting his lips on hers. His mouth wasn’t moving, and his free hand sat lightly on her waist. What’s more, they both had their eyes open, which was unlike any kiss she’d shared from any other man.

  That was why she was able to see the fellow they’d been watching walk past them, then pause to look at them. With her heart pounding, she closed her eyes and threw her arms around Joshua’s neck.

  She’d merely done it to throw the stranger off. Or perhaps she’d done it because she wanted a real kiss? Either way, everything changed then. It was as if Joshua forgot his real purpose for kissing her, because a groan escaped him and his mouth began to move roughly on hers.

  It sent her pulse beating wildly. He smelled of honey water, soap, and sun-warmed leather. She hadn’t expected him to smell so enticing.

  Or kiss so well. This kiss wasn’t tender so much as it was thorough, with great, hungry forays meant to conquer her. And when she parted her lips for him, he took the invitation with wild ferocity, driving his tongue into her mouth over and over and leaving thrills in his wake.

  Now this was what it meant to be kissed. She hadn’t expected that from him, of all people.

  Next thing she knew, he had her up against the building and had dropped his cane so he could brace himself with a hand on either side of her. Why did the very act of his imprisoning her against a wall make her melt like butter all over the side of the carriage house?

  She didn’t know, didn’t care. She just wanted more. Joshua’s kiss was a glorious feast that she gobbled up greedily. The surprising softness of his mouth contrasted with the brush of his whiskered jaw against her skin.

  The first fierce thrusts of his tongue now slowed to seductive strokes that made her weak in the knees. She clung to his neck like a cloud to a mountain. He moved one of his hands beneath her cloak to her ribs, then slid it up and down in a slow, sensual glide that sent a cascade of sensations along her nerves. She wanted him to touch her in other places, more private places.

  Lord, but the man knew how to kiss a woman, hold a woman. How delightfully unexpected.

  So when at last he pushed away from her, a keen disappointment burned in her throat. His eyes seemed to search her face in the dusk that thankfully hid them from anyone near the inn.

  “He’s gone, isn’t he?” Joshua rasped.

  Her brain was so fogged by enjoyment that she nearly said, “Who?” But she caught herself in time.

  She surveyed the road beyond them. “I’m afraid so.” She hoped Joshua couldn’t tell how her voice shook.

  “Damnation.” Frowning, he glanced down the now empty thoroughfare. “I got caught up . . . I forgot . . .” He bent to pick up his cane. “Never mind. I lost my chance.”

  “To do what?”

  “Follow him.”

  “Oh. Right.” She struggled to hide the hurt his angry words inflicted.

  Like a fool, she’d thought their kiss actually meant something to him. She should have known better. This was Major Wolfe, for whom everything was a marine mission, even the clattering of pewter mugs in the street. Their kiss had merely been a means to an end.

  No, she couldn’t be that wrong about the effect she had on him, could she? She’d been kissed often enough to be able to tell the real from the false. Theirs had been a real kiss. And the fact that Joshua had deepened the kiss and caressed her...

  That said a great deal.

  As did the way he avoided her gaze now. “Wait here,” he said, “while I go inside the carriage house to figure out what he did to your brother’s coach.”

  She scowled. Obviously, he didn’t intend to talk about their kiss or what it meant. Obviously, he hadn’t really intended to kiss her at all, even if he had responded enjoyably once he was in the midst of it. She’d learned early on that men were like that. They could enjoy a kiss without necessarily having it mean anything. Certainly that had been true of Lionel.

  Very well. If he wanted to ignore their passionate kisses, she’d do so, too. But she wasn’t going to let him run roughshod over her in the process.

  “You are just as high-handed as I, Joshua, but I am not one of your soldiers to be ordered about. I’m going in there with you.” When he looked as if he might protest, she added, “No one is around to see. And after all the trouble we took to hide that we were watching him in the first place, I think I deserve to know what he was doing.”

  Take that, Major I-Am-In-Charge-of-Everything Wolfe. She, too, could act as if the kiss had meant nothing whatsoever.

  His eyes glittered at her in the light of the rising moon. “Fine.”

  “Good.”

  Turning on his heel, he entered the carriage house. “Our coachman keeps a flint and some tinder to light the carriage lamps in the boot under his perch,” she offered as she followed him.

  “How the hell did you know that?” Joshua asked.

  She shrugged. “You notice danger; I notice where servants put things I might need some day.”

  He shook his head as if that made no sense to him, then tried to open the boot. It didn’t open easily, so he pulled hard on it, and the perch shook a bit.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, eyeing it suspiciously. “This may be what the fellow did.” He examined the bolts that fixed the perch to the carriage. “Damn him to hell, he loosened the bolts just enough so the seat would fall off once the carriage got moving at a sufficient speed.”

  “How awful!” Gwyn said, rather shocked.

  “Not just awful but dangerous.” He rummaged in the boot until he found the toolbox kept there. “Once the perch fell off, taking the coachman with it, the horses would be spooked and driverless. We could quite easily have ended up in a runaway carriage.” He found a screwdriver and tightened the bolts on the seat.

  “But now that you’ve discovered it, everything will be fine, right?”

  “It depends.” He restored the screwdriver to the toolbox and the toolbox to the boot. “I’m assuming our villain was hoping for a chance to abscond with you in the confusion.”

  A chill ran through her. “So you think Mr. Malet is behind this.”

  He dusted off his hands. “Unless it was a highwayman bent on robbing Thornstock. It’s difficult for a duke to travel without that being noted by criminals.”

  “Which do you think is more likely the case?”

  Facing her, he shrugged. “Probably Malet, if he’s still bent on kidnapping you.”

  Lionel wasn’t bent on kidnapping her. He himself had said he knew better. But he might be hoping to rob Thorn, to revenge himself on her family for their perceived slights. Or perhaps he’d decided this would be a quicker way to get his funds.

  “Anyway, we’ve done all we can tonight,” Joshua said. “But I think I should ride on the perch with the coachman tomorrow, in case the culprit is a highwayman and he brin
gs friends.”

  “I thought highwaymen were rare these days.”

  “They are. Which is why I’m inclined to believe that Malet engineered this so he could spirit you off.”

  “But how would he know when we’d break down?”

  “He’d have to follow us. For that matter, so would any highwaymen. In either case, my pepperbox flintlock will be at the ready. And your brother can keep you safe inside the carriage.”

  Gwyn hid her disappointment. She’d been looking forward to traveling in close quarters with him again tomorrow. It would have given her a chance to question him about his past—how he’d become wounded, whether he’d ever had a sweetheart, and what made him so grumpy and prone to sudden bursts of anger.

  What had made him draw a weapon on two bewildered townspeople.

  “We’d best go into the inn,” he said. “Your family is sure to be wondering where we got off to. And I’ll need to apprise Thornstock of the situation.”

  She nodded. So that was that. Nothing at all said about their kiss. Clearly, she’d been imagining he’d felt something.

  The realization that he had not—or hadn’t felt deeply enough to act further upon it—gave her the most disappointment of all. But it was for the best. She could never be happy married to a man with such a mercurial temperament. And once a rigid fellow like he knew the truth about her, which she couldn’t hide forever, he wouldn’t wish to be married to her anyway.

  So no matter how much she’d enjoyed it, she would simply have to consider their kiss nothing more than a shared mistake.

  * * *

  The next morning, with Thornstock’s blessing, Joshua took a position up on the perch with the coachman. At first, the fellow, whose name was Peabody, seemed annoyed to have him there. He would only grunt in answer to Joshua’s remarks.

  So much for taking Joshua’s mind off the kisses he and Gwyn had shared yesterday. He’d already spent half the night replaying them, so he’d been hoping not to spend the day replaying them, too, and wondering what had possessed him to be so reckless.

  At the very least, he should have apologized for pawing her like a half-starved hound. It had seemed wisest at the time just to pretend it hadn’t happened. Pretend it to her, at any rate. He couldn’t pretend it to himself. He still smelled her lemony perfume, still relished the sweet sounds of contentment she’d made . . . still tasted her mouth, which had been even softer than he imagined.