Reckless (Mockingbird Square 4)

As she moved toward the first flight of stairs he snapped into action. “No, stay there! I will come down to you. I don’t trust the stairs.”

“Oh, do take care,” she said quickly, and then looked as if she wished she hadn’t spoken. He smiled to himself. Margaret was worried about the meddling earl? It was a step in the direction he wanted her to go, even if there was a long way between concern for his safety and a willingness to cast aside all her doubts and join him in ruination.

When he reached her she was peeking into one of the nearby rooms, a frown on her usually smooth brow. “This house must have been habitable once upon a time. Sir Cecil was here on his own, wasn’t he?”

“Apart from a couple of elderly servants. Had I known the situation, I might have carried him back to Mockingbird Square, but I doubt he would have agreed to go.”

“Would that have stopped you?” she said, and finally turned to look at him. She seemed to notice his dishevelled state and her gaze took in the bare skin of his muscular forearms before skittering quickly away. He waited for her to make comment on his apparel. When she didn’t, he continued on with the conversation as if nothing was amiss.

“You shouldn’t feel sorry for him. My uncle was not an amiable fellow. He died as he lived, doing exactly as he pleased.”

“I suppose that is as good a way to die as any.” She was staring at a spot on the wall behind his shoulder. “I think you are right about him being an independent gentleman. I remember when I was younger my father did visit your great uncle. He only visited the once because I believe Sir Cecil was extremely rude to him, and I’m quite sure my father was rude in return. Had I known the situation I could have visited in his stead.”

He tried to imagine Margaret coming to see his irascible relative. Would Cecil have found her charming? Or would he have reduced her to tears? He thought she would have held her own but was glad she hadn’t been put to the test.

“You said there were two elderly servants?” she asked suddenly, gazing directly into his eyes with an anxious look. “Will you keep them on?”

“I’ve retired them to a cottage on my estate. They weren’t from Denwick and didn’t want to stay.”

&n

bsp; She looked relieved. “Oh.”

“Did you think I’d throw them out into the snow to fend for themselves?” he asked drolly. “What a pretty idea you must have of my character.”

“Of course I didn’t think that! I just … I’m sorry if you…I know you are not a cruel man, my lord.”

“But …?” he prodded, because he sensed there was a definite ‘but’ in her sentence.

Impatiently he reached up and unwound his dusty neckcloth with sharp jerks, before pulling it from around his neck. She watched him in amazement, stepping back as if he was holding a snake.

“My—my lord …”

“My name is Dominic,” he said, giving her a frown. “I wish you would call me that.”

She took a breath as if for courage. There was a blush in her cheeks and her eyes were bright. He knew she was finding it difficult to ignore his tactics. Good. He was tired of this; he wanted to know what she was feeling one way or the other. He wanted to know whether he had come all the way to this godforsaken place only to have his heart broken.

“It would not be proper to call you … that,” she responded at last. Her gaze slid down over his throat and jerked back to his eyes as if she’d been bitten. He might have laughed but he was too stirred up.

“Are you such a proper person, Margaret?” he mocked. “And see, I have called you by your first name. Censor me if you will. Good manners have never stopped you before.”

“I suspect the cold has addled your brain,” she told him in a voice that sounded more like the Margaret of Mockingbird Square.

“I disagree. I think it has clarified my addled thoughts,” he retorted.

“Or addled them even more,” she said, watching him cautiously. Did he look so deranged? Maybe he did. He felt deranged, as if he might demand she run away with him, right here, right now. But it was too soon, he knew that.

And then she bit her lip. She bit her lip and it was all he could do not to groan at the sight of her white teeth pressed into that plump flesh.

“I told you what would happen if you did that,” he said.

“Did what?” And then her eyes widened as he reached for her.

His mouth crashed down on hers. He was too full of emotion to be gentle, and besides, he wanted her to know what she was in for if she did choose in his favour. If that miracle did happen.

For a moment she was frozen, receiving his kiss without responding, and then she gave his shoulder a half-hearted blow with her fist. He raised his head slightly, so that he could stare into her eyes. She looked confused and excited.

“Tell me to stop,” he said.