A Prince Among Men (6 page)

As if he understood the insult, the dog started a furious high-pitched yapping. Shadow's head came up and Raj snorted, rising instantly to his hind legs, pawing the air. Alexander pulled Raj down and the footman aimed a kick at the dog.

The kick missed, and the dog threw itself at the end of the slack leash, erupting from the startled footman's hold and barreling for Miss Brinsby.

"Stand!" Alexander commanded Raj. He dropped the stallion's rein, lunging for Miss Brinsby and spinning her out of the charging dog's path.

Having missed his target, the dog plopped his hindquarters down, skidding to a stop under the stallion's nose. The stallion's nostrils flared, his teeth showed.

"Raj, stand!" Alexander shouted.

Stallion and dog regarded each other a long moment, breathing in sharp bursts, before the careless footman scrambled for the loose leash and tugged the dog back.

"Beg pardon, miss," said the footman.

"Archaic functionary," she muttered.

Alexander looked down at the girl in his arms and knew why he had been in such a turmoil for days. Her face tilted up to his revealed the hidden sweetness he had sensed from the first moment he looked on her.

"A rescue? How gallant!" she said. Her eyes refused to meet his. "Pet hates me."

"Pet?"

"My mother's dog. He had a name once, but mother neve
r calls him anything but 'Pet.'
"

"What did you do to make him hate you?" He was whispering, conscious of holding her close.

"I suggested that he earn his keep."

Under his scrutiny, the hint of dawn in her cheeks deepened against the blue of her bonnet. Dark curls peeked from under the brim.

He let her go, moving resolutely to put Raj between them. The few seconds he'd held her had heated his blood. He was likely to unsettle the stallion with his own state of excitement.

She gave him a puzzled look over Raj's back. When he came around the stallion to assist her, he was careful to avoid any contact except where their gloved hands met.

Ophelia refused to alter her plans because her groom had rescued her from the demon dog.

They had a good gallop, making a circuit of the park that brought them near the water's edge north of the Serpentine. She accepted his aid in dismounting, smiling and leaning on him, so that his face assumed a deliberate blankness, as if he were unconscious of her presence. He didn't want the charge of her, and as soon as she put her plan into action, he would be free. He maneuvered so that Shadow was between them as they walked, but after a moment she crossed in front of the horse to walk at his side. By now she could read the stiffening of his countenance.

"You like horses better than people, don't you?" she said.

He looked straight ahead. "They're easier to manage than people. They live simply. They work hard. They trust you."

"And they don't make contrary demands on those who serve them."

"They aren't very good at independence, though. They need the bit, bridle, and reins." He turned toward her, his remarkable blue eyes the only color in the acres of park around them.

And she tried to remember that they were talking about horse
s. "They'd do very well with in
dependence if we let them be free as nature intended."

"Would you give up your morning ride so your horse could be free?"

She saw the trap he laid. "Perhaps when the steam engine is perfected, our horses will be free."

"What sort of freedom is it to be useless?"

She looked at him sharply. "You'd rather be in service than free?"

"I would rather be your horse than your mother's dog."

"I don't think being my groom suits you, however."

She was glad he made no reply. To hear him speak that way of horses would make her like him, but it had taken days to come up with an escape plan, and she wouldn't falter in resolution now merely because her groom had some interesting ideas. Still, it was harder than she'd expected to end their conversation.

She gave him Shadow's reins and strolled away from the bridle path down the dell toward the east end of the water, picking her way over
the soggy ground. Ducks quacked and waddled toward her, anticipating bread, the flock folding over itself to get close to her. She glanced over her shoulder. Alexander was watching, but she was sure she had lulled his suspicions with two mornings of good behavior. She began tossing crumbs to the noisy birds, turning a little bit at a time until the flock was between her and the horses at the top of the rise.

After a few minutes of her lazy scattering of crumbs, he seemed to lose interest in her. He turned to the horses, talking and stroking, as was his way. She flung the last of the bread at the ducks in a wide arc, gathered her skirts in one hand and darted behind a cover of reeds and bushes, resisting the temptation to look back in triumph. He was stuck on his side of the milling flock with Shadow and Raj.

His responsibilities trapped him, for he could not leave the horses untended, and he would never get Raj through the milling ducks.

She dashed around the end of the lake, slipping just once on the wet grass, up the dell, and across the Row. Once she gained level ground, she felt she could run forever. There was no one to notice her. A lone rider cantered west, and a detachment of Horse Guards trotted out of sight in the trees at the other end of the Row. She had only to reach the Kensington Road to find a cab or a cart to catch a ride to Hetty's.

The duck quacking increased in frenzy and Alexander glanced over his shoulder. What he saw was a flash of blue disappearing behind the shrubbery around the end of the lake. He swore. He should have known he couldn't trust her. He
looped the horses reins together, told the stallion firmly to stand, and plunged down the hill. The milling ducks flapped upward around him in an explosion of squawks and feathers. At the top of the rise he spotted the blue of her riding habit through the early spring foliage. A month later and she'd have had perfect cover. He doubled his speed, angling across the Row and up a slight rise.

She must have heard him then, for she glanced over her shoulder and increased her pace, but her direction didn't change. She had some destination in mind, her escape planned from the moment she'd mentioned the bread. All the frustrations of his week in her service coalesced in a furious energy that drove him forward.
Damn,
she would explain herself.

She pressed her free hand to her side, and he knew he had her. Her harsh breathing rasped above the flapping of her skirts, and the thud of his pursuing footsteps on the grass. He reached out, grabbing the flared gathers at the waist of her jacket. With a cry she tried to wrench free, stepping on her skirts and tumbling down a short incline. He clung to the jacket, stumbling after, hitting the ground with a sharp impact that took his breath and sent his hat rolling ahead of them down the dewy grass to the base of a hedge.

She pushed herself up at once, scrambling to get to her feet, but Alexander lunged, pinning her legs.

"Let me go!" Her bonnet had come off. Unconventional short dark waves, thick and shiny, fell away from her face, her cheeks pink from her
exertions. Her eyes glittered with tears of frustration, her lips parted with her gasping breaths, her chest rose and fell.

He couldn't speak. He pulled himself up her body until he covered her and trapped her wrists against the ground. There he held himself above her on his elbows, waiting for the breath to question her.

But as he waited, suspended above her, her scent rose to fill his nostrils, her ribs met his, their breaths mingled. A tremor passed through him, signaling his body's inevitable response to her nearness. She must have seen or sensed the change in him, because her eyes grew wide and wary. He knew that look. She was not as indifferent to him as he'd imagined. The longing that had been building in him all week sharpened. He moved one hand to brush a soft curl back from her hot cheek.

Then he pressed closer, sinking down against her, closing his arms to frame her body, lifting his fingertips to her silky hair. Girl and grass filled his senses.

Her mouth drew his. He wanted it, lowered himself to touch her lips until a gasp from her made him check. He was forgetting who he was and who he pretended to be. In her eyes he was a servant, about to insult a lady. If the truth was different, he still had no freedom to kiss a pretty girl simply because he wanted to.

He shoved himself to his feet and turned his back. The desire he'd allowed himself to feel, now thwarted, made him shake.

He heard her rise and slap her skirts. When he thought he had himself under some control, he
glanced over his shoulder at her. She was brushing tears from her eyes with the backs of her knuckles.

His hands closed in fists. "Are you all right?"

"My maidenly sensibilities are not offended."

"I was asking about your limbs. No broken bones or twisted ankle?"

"No." Her voice was small.

He risked turning to look at her. "Where were you going?"

Her chin came up, and the expression in her eyes grew haughty. "To see a friend."

"Your friend couldn't meet you in the park?" He had no good opinion of a lover who would expect a girl to come to him.

"She doesn't ride."

His resentment evaporated. He grinned stupidly. "Can't you call on your friend in a more conventional way?"

"A mere tradesman's daughter," she said, mimicking a deep, rumbling voice obviously not her own. She was brushing the grass from her skirts.

"A friend from the lower orders?"

"My dearest friend."

"Your family's disapproval must be pointed if you are driven to such ruses to meet."

"They have an excessive regard for rank and breeding."

"You don't?" He retrieved his hat from the hedge.

"I believe in democratic principles."

"All men are created equal?"

"And women."

He laughed. "You practice these principles by ordering your groom about?"

"It's nearly impossible to practice any sort of rational principles in my
family, but among clever, well-
informed people with a liberality of ideas, there can be real, easy, and equal fellowship in spite of differences in rank."

"Is this what you find at your friend's house?"

She nodded, looking up at him almost shyly. "You could take me there."

"As your last groom did? The one who sacrificed his position for your egalitarian principles?"

"You think I was unjust to him?"

"He lost his livelihood for your freedom."

"His situation not his livelihood, and he was well compensated."

"Bribed."

"Yes, bribed. I did not say I believed all men were created good."

"Plainly, you don't think a groom might be a man of integrity."

"That's not the point."

Alexander raised a brow. "Enlighten me."

"Oh, how can I make you understand the need for escape? People in society have fixed ideas. Their heads are like oak."

"Even your family?"

"Especially my family. Talking to my mother is like trying to take a deep breath with stays on."

Alexander had to laugh.

"I just want a very little freedom, the freedom to choose my friends without regard for rank or birth. Believe me, my friend Hetty has more
merit than a dozen 'gently bred' ladies of society."

Alexander reached down and retrieved her bonnet. "Are you still willing to offer me a bribe?"

Her eyes changed instantly. He recognized disappointment and wariness in them. "How much do you want?"

"It's not money I want." He stepped up to her, turning the soft velvet bonnet in his hands.

"What then?" Her mouth was a cynical line, her eyes cold, focused on the horizon.

He closed the gap between them. "I want your name and the freedom to use it whenever I like."

Color flooded her face. Her gaze swung back to him. "That's impossible."

"So much for your egalitarian principles."

"This isn't France, you know. Ladies and grooms don't mix as social equals."

"Do you want to see your friend? Without your parents knowing?"

He knew she did. He held his breath so long he thought she'd changed her mind.

"My name's Ophelia," she whispered.

"Ophelia," he said. He pulled a thin blade of dry grass from the curls at the side of her face and stuck it between his teeth. He made the gesture appear careless, but his hand shook. "Let me take you to your friend."

It took a moment for his willingness to register. Then she smiled, a tentative smile. "Thank you."

They turned back toward the dell when she stopped abruptly. "But what's become of the horses? I never thought you'd leave them."

"They're waiting for us."

She cast him an incredulous glance. "You think we'll find Shadow and Raj in the dell?"