she could keep the amount of strangers in her house to a minimum.
Since the accident, she couldn’t tolerate intruders.
Therefore, this planned jaunt into Strathmere tomorrow threw her into a fit of anxiety. Of course, going anywhere with Adam would be bothersome. They were likely to quarrel the entire way.
But more than that, she would be seen. She hated being seen. She hated the whispers and the looks.
She almost changed her mind. Just imagining what it would be like turned her legs to water. But she simply could not be a faded frump any longer. When he left to return to London, she’d get her precious solitude back, but until then she would have to contend with his presence. His intrusion.
And she would simply have to get some new clothes. What a bother he was!
Yet she found herself watching all afternoon for his return.
Chapter Six
Besides being cold most of the time, Adam very quickly learned, the Northumberland shire was very troublesome in its terrain. His horse didn’t like it at all, the spoiled beast. No doubt longing for the civilized streets of the city, the gelding snorted and generally made known his displeasure at having to traverse the crude paths. When they came to a fallen tree, he balked at the jump. At the edge of a stream, he rolled his eyes testily and refused to take one step into the water.
In no mood to have a difference of opinion with the ornery beast, Adam sighed and resigned himself to following the bank for a while. He let his mind wander.
There were plans to be made, tasks to be seen to. He had to post several letters tomorrow, which he had written early this morning. One to his friends to inform them of his staying on in Northumberland for a period of two months, and of the impending nuptials. He grinned, imagining their response. There had been no small amount of coin wagered on his success in this venture, and he wished he could be there to see the naysayers who had put their money against him pay up.
Two other letters were to solicitors. Mr. Fenton was his father’s old solicitor. It would be he who would receive the bulk of the five thousand to settle Adam’s father’s debts, compounded by his own ill-fated attempts to cope with them through wagering.
Mr. Darby was a new fellow whom Adam had contacted just before setting out. On the chance he was successful in getting his hands on the Rathford money, Adam had arranged for Darby to handle all future transfers of funds. The clean break with Fenton was needed. This would signal the end of a chapter in Adam’s life, an unpleasant one. He was now a wealthy man and the troubles of the past were behind him.
There was a fourth letter, written to a Trina Bentford, advising her that their association was to be terminated due to the occasion of his marriage. It was something that had been coming for a long time. As a friend, Trina was exuberant and deliciously wicked. She never ceased to make him laugh and always was ready for whatever wild scheme anyone could come up with. As a mistress, she was exhausting. Not in bed. In fact, her interest in that department was negligible. Of course, she understood how it went and did her best to keep him pleasured, but she was hardly inventive or particularly stirring in the sensual way. No, her talent lay in craving attention, and her appetite for that had been far too voracious for him.
It was a good time for a break here, too. She would be miffed, naturally, since marriage was not necessarily an occasion for ending a liaison, but by the time Adam was set to return to London she would have cooled off enough to forgo the usual tedious scenes.
Thinking of tedious scenes put him in mind of his future wife. He smiled as he kicked his horse up the sloped embankment and cantered home, although why thinking of Helena Rathford should bring on a stupid grin was beyond his comprehension. She was a bothersome piece, completely incomprehensible and constantly contradicting reason. A study in contrasts at every turn—cool as ice one moment, then wild as any untamed virago the next. And all the while shrouded in that cursed air of mystery that was beginning to wear on his nerves.
But damn, her eyes could look straight through a man and touch something in him. Adam scoffed at himself. Lust was what it was, if one could be besieged by that affliction for such a slip of a girl. He mentally compared her to the voluptuous Trina, then dismissed his former mistress, to linger only on Helena’s attributes.
She had incredible grace. Her neck was like a swan’s, giving her the most elegant aspect. Her air of reserve seemed to taunt him unmercifully, driving him to distraction with wanting to strip it away and find out what passions it hid.
Because there was passion in her. He had heard it in the incredible music she had produced. Absolutely tantalizing.
He was still thinking about her when the house came into view. It was past luncheon, nearly teatime. He wondered if she’d eaten. Good God, he was becoming her nursemaid, worrying over her. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to bed a skeleton. By their wedding night, at which time he had promised to do his best to keep his end of the wretched bargain he had struck with Rathford, Adam wanted a more fleshy version of the woman to warm his bed.
He wanted the Helena in the portrait.
“Hello, sir,” the groom called, coming to take the horse. “Have a nice ride?”
“The damned beast almost broke a leg on those rocks.”
“Gotta stay off of them rocks,” the man agreed. “Gotta go south to get to the good hunting grounds. That’s where the master goes.”
“Hunts, does he?” Adam was interested. “Where exactly does he go?”
“The woods that stretch from here to Strathmere, then all the way to the castle.” Seeing from his expression that Adam didn’t know about the castle, the man explained, “Where the duke lives. You’ll see it when you get near. It’s a huge old place, sits way up high on a big hill. The woods whip around it and go all the way up to the cliffs, and there’s lots of game in those woods. The duke don’t like you hunting the deer, though. Got a cousin what comes up once in a while, and he and the master have a rout, getting the foxes off the farmers’ lands and rabbit hunting.”
“Keep me informed when the fellow arrives, if I’m about. I fancy a good fox chase. What’s your name, fellow?”
“Kepper, sir.”
“Glad to know you, Kepper,” Adam said amicably. He noticed the man’s surprise at his familiarity. There were certainly many things that had changed about him in the years since he was himself touching his forelock to members of the aristocracy, but he’d be dead and rotted through before he’d neglect a courtesy because of his newfound status. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll need a carriage or curricle to go into the village tomorrow. I’ll be taking Lady Helena with me, so something not too rough, man.”
“Lady…? Lady Helena, you say? She’s going into the village?”
“That’s what I said.” Adam’s good-natured smile sagged at the man’s apoplectic expression. “Is there something wrong with that, Kepper?”
“She don’t see nobody, sir. Don’t go out none, either.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged his wide, bony shoulders. He had the wiry build of a man whose frame held a deceptive amount of strength. There was an air of competence about Kepper, as if he’d
