Wild Lily (Those Notorious Americans Book 1)(36)

At the turn, she stopped and hailed Julian with a grin of delight.

He scowled at her, his eyes full of mischief.

“I’ll beat you if you keep doing that,” he shouted.

She dug in her spurs and Polly responded with speed.

But Julian gave a good race, digging in only inches behind her.

At the final mark, she rejoiced in the win, proud that she’d risked exposure, grateful to him for the opportunity.

“We won!” She whipped her hat from her shoulder where it had fallen and dangled by its pins.

“By a nose!” He was laughing as he permitted Horatio to prance around her and Polly.

“Polly deserves a bucket of oats. And I’d like a firm promise of tomorrow night.”

Julian laughed. “You love the taste of risqué business, eh?”

“I won’t deny it.”

“I’ll risk it with you.”

Drops of rain hit her face. She pushed curls from her cheeks and dragged off her net caul. The wealth of her hair fell to her shoulders, hanging in long curls over her jacket.

His dark gaze shot to it and back to her eyes, where he lingered. His consideration heated her blood, making her shift in her saddle, noting the tension in her belly was new, welcome and unwise.

In the distance, the crackle of thunder rent the night air.

“We should return quickly. Come on,” he said and headed back toward the stables at a trot.

But the heavens opened in a steady downpour, the rain seeping into her jacket. Julian and she trotted straight into the open doors.

Julian was off his mount in a thrice and strode over to help her down. “You’re soaked straight through.”

“You, too.” She felt the wet wool of his jacket as she braced herself on his shoulders and slid to the earthen floor.

Colin appeared from the back of the barn, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he took the reins of Horatio and Polly.

“Thank you, Colin,” Julian said and then her turned to her.

“We must get you home before you catch a chill.” He glanced around the dim interior, then reached over to a line of tack hanging on the wall. He whipped off a horse blanket and stepped to her. “Here, let’s put this around you. I’ll go up to the house and get a coat for you. You can’t go back to Carbury’s in the pouring rain. Not wet as you are. I should have thought of this.”

“You cannot predict the weather.”

“Foolhardy of me, anyway. I should have taken better care of you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Now, you are. But if you take sick—”

“I’ve never been ill a day in my life.”

“Bloody well good for you.”

At his rough words, she threw him a smile.

“Sorry. But you need a change of clothes, a shot of whiskey and a good warm bed.”

“Hopefully, this downpour will end soon.”

He was rubbing her shoulders and securing the blanket around her throat tightly. “Only servants are in residence at the house. I’ll run up. My mother’s winter coat would fit you. Elanna’s would be too short.”

“So why don’t we both go? You need dry clothes, too.”

He tipped his head. “If we’re caught—”

“By whom? If no one in your family is there? Where is your father?”

“London.”

“So then.”

“Stay here.”

“Not on your life!”





Chapter Eight


They ran like children along the stone path up to the servants back door. It was unlocked and Julian thrust it open, pulling her inside.

“Come. Here’s the kitchen. No fire, but it’s warm and dry. Sit there.” He looked her over. “You’re drenched. Hell.”

He took four huge strides, disappearing into another room and clanging about. If he kept up that racket, the whole house would soon be awake.

She rubbed her arms, grateful to be out of the storm, but wary of servants who might have been roused.

When he returned, he had his hands full of toweling.

Grateful to be rid of the blanket that smelled of horse, she shrugged it off and folded it. He hurried to wrap a large towel over her head.

She giggled. “You could wake the dead the way you scoured that room.”

“My housekeeper is quite deaf.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all. She’s never been quick to any sound.” He scrubbed her head with too much dedication.

“Ooof.” She picked up a corner of the towel to glare at him.

“Sorry. You need to dry your hair.” He rubbed her scalp.

She clamped her fingers around his wrist. “If you don’t stop, sir, I’ll be bald!”

“Sorry.” He bent to peer at her. “Take off your jacket.”

She balked. She had removed her corset for this adventure and if she took off her jacket, it would be apparent that she was a rather loose woman. In more ways than one. “Ah. I don’t wish to. Unless… Do you have anything to replace it?”

“Not yet. I will.” He dropped another towel around her neck.

“Splendid. I’ll wait.”

“No. You will not.” He began to pick at the buttons on her coat.