Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 03] Page 12

  Alex slanted a faintly amused look at her. "Debating whether you have jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire?"

  How was it that he seemed able to read her thoughts? A flush stole over her face as she fumbled to turn the collar of her coat up to cover her cheeks. "I imagine I am better off being roasted with you than being burned by that lot back there."

  He laughed. "I shall take that as a compliment, for it will no doubt be the closest to one that I shall ever wrest from your lips."

  There was a slow intake of breath. "Mr. Sheffield, I have no allusions as to your faults—and I am sure they are many—"

  "Too numerous to recite," he murmured in interruption.

  "—but I hope I should not be so churlish as to fail to convey my gratitude for your actions at the inn. Without your bravery, our fate would have been... unspeakable."

  "Well, it didn't come to that, so let us put the matter behind us," he said quickly. Then, to keep her from dwelling on such disturbing thoughts, he sought to change the subject. "Now that you know of my travails, it's time you explain to me just how you have come to be wandering with Miss Renfrew in the wilds of the countryside."

  She told him briefly what had happened, sticking to the barest of facts, but when she finished, his brow was furrowed in anger as well as concern.

  "The greedy louts," he muttered. "They should be horsewhipped at the very least, for abandoning the two of you."

  Octavia's jaw tightened. "Indeed. And you may be sure that I shall see to it that Emma never again has to endure the prospect of life with relatives who offer no warmth or affection but care only to wrest some sort of advantage for themselves from someone else's vulnerability."

  He didn't answer, but a thoughtful expression came over his features as he guided the horses around a fallen spruce. It was only after the sleigh had brushed through the a small drift of snow that he spoke again "You mean to see the girl back to England, I take it?"

  She nodded.

  "And so you go to St. Petersburg as well." It was a statement rather than a question. "Just how do you expect to manage that?"

  Octavia's spine stiffened. "That's hardly any of your concern. You may leave us off at the next coaching stop. I have sufficient funds and am perfectly capable of... " Her voice caught for a fraction as she recalled what had just happened. "...of managing a simple journey for the two of us." Even to her own ears, her bravado rang rather hollow, given the circumstances.

  Alex gave a snort. "How long do you think it will take to have that scene at the inn repeated, Miss Hadley?"

  Her chin jutted out.

  "You may be as stubborn as a mule, but you are not a fool. You were very lucky that I happened along, but Lady Luck is a fickle companion—I wouldn't count on her company. A female traveling alone and unprotected is a tempting target for all manner of rapacious men, especially in this country." When she still didn't speak, he added, "If I leave you off as you wish, I don't doubt you will be robbed and raped by morning."

  She sucked in her breath. "I certainly appreciate your tact and delicacy, Mr. Sheffield." The edge of sarcasm in her voice was honed by the fact that she knew he was probably right. "But you are forgetting I have a pistol with which to defend myself."

  "It might make a difference if you could hit more than the damn wall," he retorted. "And perhaps you are forgetting that the sort of cur we are talking about usually runs in a pack."

  Octavia refused to let her shoulders sag under the weighty truth of his words. "Well, I have no choice," she snapped. "So I will just have to cope as best I can and hope that Luck, if she is truly a lady, will not desert a fellow female."

  "You have a choice, Miss Hadley, though I fear I cannot promise it will be any less perilous than the other alternative." His lips twitched. "Only your life may be at stake, not your virtue."

  Despite everything, she couldn't keep her own mouth from quirking upward as well. "How very reassuring." Her expression then turned serious again. "You have enough troubles of your own without being burdened with mine. Your offer is very kind but I find I must decline."

  Alex's eyes narrowed. "Actually, I was wrong. You do not have a choice. You and the child are coming with us, and that is all there is to it."

  "Oh come, you needn't feel compelled by some absurd notion of gentlemanly honor to put yourself in such an awkward position."

  He stared straight ahead, a rigid set to his lean features. "Because, of course, I am no gentleman?"

  She looked taken aback, then a soft laugh escaped her lips. "Mr. Sheffield, if you were a gentleman, you would not be stuck in such a coil as this, so far away from home. Outcasts and misfits such as us must do what we must to survive."

  He grinned. "There, you see? You have just admitted we make a matched pair. Surely you cannot—"

  A shriek from inside the carriage interrupted the discussion.

  Alex pulled the horses to a stop and jumped down from his perch, Octavia close on his heels. The sight that confronted the two of them when he yanked the door open was enough to draw a gasp of surprise from both adults.

  Emma's fur hat was sadly askew and her face was already stained with tears. Nicholas's cheek bore the angry red imprint of a slap, and though he refrained from any such unmanly display of emotion, his lower lip was quivering quite perceptibly.

  "Good Lord," muttered Alex under his breath. "At least the two of us have not yet found it necessary to come to blows."

  "At least not yet," murmured Octavia. In a louder voice she sought to sort out the trouble. "Emma—" she began.

  "He pulled my braid!" wailed the girl.

  "She called me a bad name!" cried the boy at the same time.

  "I did not!"

  "Yes, you did. You called me ass." He turned to Alex. "What is 'ass'?"

  "It's a donkey, stupid."

  "Emma!" said Octavia sternly. "It is most unfair to call someone stupid for not understanding—"

  "She is the stupid one," jeered Nicholas. "She—"

  "That is quite enough!" roared Alex.

  An instant silence descended on the little group.

  "Now, perhaps we may deal with this in a more civilized fashion." He regarded the two young people with a quelling gaze. "Miss Renfrew, kindly tell me what happened."

  A squeak of protest from Nicholas was quickly cut off by another stern look. "You will have your turn as well," said Alex. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Miss Renfrew? Miss Hadley and I are waiting."

  Emma's eyes dropped to the carriage floor. "He pulled my hair. Hard. So I slapped him."

  "And why did he pull your hair?"

  Her mouth scrunched up in a rather guilty expression. "Boys are odious," was all she muttered.

  Alex turned to Nicholas.

  "She called me a bad name, Alex," he said with a pout. "I do not like her at all. I want her to leave—the sooner the better."

  Alex's countenance began to glaze over. Armed assailants he could deal with, but two brangling children....

  "He started it, Mr. Sheffield. Truly, I did not even speak to him until it became clear he was out to provoke me."

  The boy howled in outrage. "That's not true!"

  Octavia took one look at Alex's confused expression and took matters into her own hands. "I've heard quite enough from both of you. Emma, you will apologize this instant to the count for your unladylike behavior."

  "But—" One look at her guardian's face caused the girl to reconsider her protest. A barely audible mumble followed, delivered with a decided lack of grace, but Octavia let it pass.

  The boy's smug expression was quickly wiped from his face by her next words. "And you, Master Nicholas will apologize to Miss Renfrew for your own shabby conduct."

  The look of mute appeal thrown Alex's way was studiously ignored. The boy swallowed hard, then forced out the required response.

  "Now the two of you will shake on it."

  With great reluctance, the two small hands barely grazed each other before being je
rked back as if scorched by a flame.

  "Consider any debt you feel you might owe me paid in full," murmured Alex as his fingers sought to loosen the knot of his cravat.

  A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she stepped several paces away from the carriage. "Perhaps now you would care to reconsider your offer?"

  "Surely it can't get any worse than that."

  Her brow arched. "Did you not have any sisters, Mr. Sheffield?"

  He shook his head.

  "Well that explains such a sanguine outlook." She pulled her coat closer and stamped her feet on the frozen ground. "Should we not be off before the horses take a chill? We could argue until Doomsday without coming to any accord, but it can wait until later." Her gaze darted back toward the door that was still ajar. "I suppose I had best ride inside to forestall any further fireworks."

  "You have my eternal gratitude."

  "I would rather have your best efforts at the ribbons. I have a feeling the sooner we get to St. Petersburg, the better."

  Chapter 9

  Alex settled the fur blanket around his legs and set the horses in motion, grateful for a bit of solitude in which to order his thoughts. He should be cursing the heavens for the trick of Fate that had landed yet more responsibilities in his lap, but oddly enough the only sound coming from his throat was a burble of rueful laughter. Well, it certainly could not be said that their encounters with each other lacked for a touch of the dramatic. Good Lord, it was he who had nearly swooned, rather than the intrepid Miss Hadley, on seeing her confronted by those three armed ruffians.

  The sight of her brandishing a pistol at them had stirred a number of strange sensations in his breast. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to ring a peal over her head for having put herself in the way of such danger or pull her to his chest and melt the steely resolve on her lips with his kisses. What he was sure of was that he would have launched himself barehanded at any number of assailants who posed a threat to her.

  He shook his head. Chivalry had not exactly been his strong suit since longer than he cared to remember. It made no sense. She was not by any stretch the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered, nor were her charms such as to twine a man in a net of silky infatuation. At that thought, another laugh nearly burst forth. Seek to charm him? By God, she could barely tolerate his presence! But somehow, she affected him like no other woman he had ever met.

  Alex's brow furrowed. Over the past ten years he had met quite a few others, and each had provided a certain diversion. Yes, women had always served as a welcome distraction. The curve of a breast, the throaty trill of a laugh, the sensuous smile as flagrant as a written invitation to dally—at one time or another they had all heated his blood enough to make him feel... alive. But the passion was always fleeting, the transient pleasure unable to keep at bay the dull ache that inevitably crept back to suffuse his very being.

  What was it about the prim Miss Hadley that seemed... different? When he looked in her eyes, he saw no trace of artifice, only a keen intelligence that cared not a whit who perceived it. Her words, as well, were unadorned with fripperies. None of the banal observations usually mouthed by those of her sex for Miss Octavia Hadley! Why, he realized with a start, she was the only female of his acquaintance with whom he felt he could have an interesting conversation, save perhaps his sisters-in law.

  There was no denying that she had spirit and courage as well, qualities he was more used to attributing to his friends than his bedmates. Nothing seemed to quell her spark. Eyes blazing, she kept her chin up, as proud as her namesake in the face of adversity. He had only to recall their first encounter to be reminded of that. Most other females would have had screamed or fainted, but she had relied on her own resources—quite credibly he might add. A certain part of his anatomy had ached for some time after that.

  With a rueful grimace, he realized that their first meeting had also revealed that she possessed other, more conventional female attributes beneath that high-necked wool gown. And despite her cold dismissal, he had caught the stirrings of a hot passion lurking beneath the icy shell. He found himself wondering what it would be like to fan its fire again, to have its flames lick over him and...

  The wheels of the carriage hit a frozen rut, jarring his thoughts back to frigid reality. The cold had dropped even more, forming his breath into ethereal white puffs, which the biting wind quickly swirled away. Alex watched as they were dispersed, then tightened his grip on the reins. Wishes and dreams were as chimerical as such clouds. He had learned that long ago. Just as he had learned not to probe too deeply into his feelings, for the pain was too searing. It was best not to begin now. No matter how intriguing he found Miss Hadley, the attraction would soon die away, just like everything else that had mattered in his life.

  It was after dark before they approached a low split log structure set off from the thick forest by a wheat field. Smoke curling up from the single chimney was the only sign of life, for the shutters were pulled so tightly closed that nary a shaft of light could escape. The stable, barely larger than a hencoop, also appeared deserted, but the sound of the runners crunching over frozen puddles brought a figure swathed in a grimy assortment of wool shuffling from inside, his muttered curses exploding in small puffs of vapor like so many artillery shells.

  Alex stumbled down from his seat, his feet so numb with cold that he might as well have been walking on blocks of wood. Somehow he managed to undo the door latch and hand the three occupants out from inside the inky interior.

  "It hardly looks to be the most appealing of places, but I fear we have little choice. At least there is a fire and, with any luck, a hot meal." The act of speaking proved so difficult that the words came out in little more than a labored slur.

  Octavia's lips pursed as she regarded the dusting of ice crystals on his cheeks, but she merely nodded and set to follow the children towards the inn. Behind her, Alex's step faltered again, as he fought to regain some feeling in his lower limbs. She paused, then turned back and slipped her arm under his elbow.

  "You've only to manage a few more paces, Mr. Sheffield."

  Inside, the room was not nearly so bad as expected. The dim oil lamps revealed that the place was moderately clean, and the tall tiled stove set in the corner cast enough of a warmth to make it almost cozy. Without a word, Octavia guided Alex close to its hissing bulk and slowly unwound the scarf from his neck. He started to fumble with the buttons of his coat, but somehow his fingers refused to cooperate in the normal manner. She pushed them gently aside and undid the fastenings herself, letting the garment slide off his shoulders and to the floor.

  "Emma, bring a chair for Mr. Sheffield."

  The girl obeyed with alacrity, dragging the heavy wooden legs across the uneven planks and nearly knocking over Nicholas in the process. He made a face, but the little kick he lashed out wasn't quick enough to find its mark. Though the action didn't escape her notice, Octavia chose to ignore it.

  She reached up to take the thick wool hat from Alex's head. "Sit down, sir."

  "I c-c-can..." To his chagrin he found his teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

  "You will sit down like a sensible person so I can help you remove those boots, or do you intend to be stubborn enough to compel me to use force?" Her eyes strayed to the floor. "The leather looks as stiff as a board."

  He sat down without further argument for she looked perfectly capable of carrying out her threat.

  The proprietor approached, eyeing their modest attire with an ill-disguised frown.

  "Tea. Right away, please," said Octavia. "And something hot to eat."

  The man didn't move.

  Her head came up. "We are cold, and hungry. You do have food and drink here?" she demanded.

  A rather rude grunt followed. "For those who can pay."

  "Be assured, you will be well rewarded for your trouble." She withdrew several coins from her pocket and tossed them at the man's feet.

  The change in the fellow's demeanor was instan
taneous. "Yes, my lady," he said as he bent to retrieve the money. "Right away."

  "Do you always find a way to make someone jump at your command?" murmured Alex, his face sufficiently thawed to manage coherent speech. "Perhaps you should have remained in Moscow to direct Kutusov in fending off the Frogs."

  "I have enough on my hands trying to deal with two young people intent on doing each other bodily harm and a tutor who seems to lack for common sense, if not for sarcasm," she retorted.

  He couldn't repress a chuckle. "It was that bad inside the carriage?"

  "Don't ask." Her tone softened considerably as she eased off the first boot and felt his foot. "But not as bad as what you have endured during the journey. Your feet are nearly frozen, Mr. Sheffield. And your cheeks are only now beginning to lose their coating of frost."

  He cleared his throat as he leaned over to tug off the remaining boot. "Well, I daresay I'll survive." It slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor. A sigh of relief followed, though he sought to mask it with a cough.

  "It's hardly a joke. I'll not have you forced to drive hour after hour without relief. You'll catch your death of cold."

  It had been so long since someone had voiced concern over his welfare that he was left speechless for a moment. Then a slight smile came to his face. "I appreciate the sentiment, Miss Hadley, but there is little choice if we are to reach St. Petersburg."

  Her chin jutted forward. "I shall just have to learn to handle the ribbons too. That way we may spell each other. I have quite a lot of experience in driving my father's gig. It cannot be that much more difficult to handle a team and sleigh."

  Alex nearly spilled the steaming cup of tea the proprietor had handed to him. But the urge to tell her she was utterly mad died on his lips on catching the glint of determination in her eye. He suddenly found himself thinking on how many of the soft, voluptuous ladies who had shared his bed would make such an offer to share the hardships of driving a lumbering sleigh through the beginnings of a Russian winter.