скачать книгу бесплатно
New color climbed her cheeks. His comment about the time it took to get into her gown had probably offended her. Should he make an observation as to how long it would take to get out of the garment, she would most likely swoon.
“I was already dressed when I checked on her.”
Gideon’s interest sharpened. Was it customary for the schoolmistress to keep such late hours? It wasn’t any of his business, of course. The only point of relevance between them was that the woman and the institution for which she worked had failed in their responsibility to safeguard his niece.
And yet Gideon wondered how Miss Step occupied herself at night. He often stayed up late, pursuing the amusements available to a man of his age, temperament and social position. There were fine cheroots to be smoked, vintage wines to be savored, games of cards to be played, and worldly women with whom to satisfy his more basic needs.
How did Miss Step pass the time between midnight and dawn?
“You keep late hours,” he confined himself to remarking. “Satisfy my curiosity and explain why you didn’t wake the headmistress?”
Miss Step pushed back the tendrils of light brown hair that had sprung from the coil fastened at the nape of her neck. In the process, she managed to spread the dirty smear from her jaw to her cheek. It was ridiculous to find her unraveling condition intriguing. Yet damned if there wasn’t something charming about the fastidious woman’s progressively unkept appearance. She reminded him of a delicately wrapped package being opened by invisible hands. Her wrappings might not be fancy, but beneath the frippery, Gideon suspected, the gift would be unexpectedly lovely.
“To understand that, you would have to know the woman.” Courtney’s teacher looked away. “Miss Loutitia is prone to…”
“To what?” Gideon asked impatiently, missing the touch of Miss Step’s gaze upon him. He liked the way her wide gray eyes exposed her changing feelings. The sense of sincerity she radiated spawned a powerful reaction within him, making him feel as if she were standing utterly naked in his library. The blood in his veins heated. As much as his mental picture shot shafts of fire though him, he found the prospect of peering into her unguarded soul even more exciting.
She looked up. “I’m afraid Miss Loutitia has a somewhat overemotional temperament. When things go the least bit wrong, she becomes hysterical.”
Gideon hadn’t met the man yet who wouldn’t rather face gunfire than an overwrought female.
“I can see why you’d want to avoid such a scene. Tell me, Miss Step, are you prone to overemotional outbursts?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. What is, simply is. I’ve learned not to rail at fate. Doing so accomplishes nothing.
Another silken strand of hair settled softly along the side of her face. A curious tightness gripped Gideon’s chest.
“I’ve made the same discovery.”
She moved toward the door. “Now that I know Courtney is safe, I’ll be on my way.”
“Not so fast.”
His words were harsher than he intended. Her back stiffened, straight and unyielding as an iron post set in rock-hard mortar.
“Since our business is completed, there’s no point in my remaining.”
You could always join me upstairs in my bedchamber. We could while away the next few hours between my sheets….
When that rogue thought materialized in his brain, Gideon’s skin grew hot. The militant Miss Step was the last female on this good earth about whom he should harbor lascivious feelings.
He pushed back his chair and stood. It had been an act of calculated rudeness to remain seated after she rose to her feet. He’d wanted to see if she had the fortitude to chastise him for his churlish behavior. He imagined restraining herself had been taxing.
“I’m sure you understand why I can’t let you leave, Miss Step.”
She whirled around. “What do you mean?”
It probably wasn’t a good sign that her widened eyes and the slight waver in her voice fueled his growing interest
“Good manners won’t permit me to let you go dashing into the night unescorted.”
She stared at him as if he’d just recited the preamble to the Constitution, or something else equally irrelevant.
“Good manners?” she repeated, clearly stunned.
He nodded.
“But you haven’t displayed a single bit of mannerly behavior!”
“Of course I have. You just weren’t paying attention.”
She drew herself up to her full height, such as it was. “Not more than three minutes ago, you remained seated after I had stood. Practically the first lesson a boy learns is to rise when a lady stands.”
Gideon was sure she felt better for getting the reprimand out. “A small oversight when compared to abandoning you to the likelihood of being murdered on Denver’s wild streets, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’m perfectly capable of returning to the academy without getting myself killed,” she responded with cold disdain.
“Perhaps you are, but I’ve no intention of putting the matter to the test.”
“It’s not your choice!”
Damn, she was stubborn. What she didn’t realize was that after committing himself to a course of action, he never backed down. “This streak of childish rebellion is wearing my patience.”
“Then I’d best leave.”
The woman actually had the misplaced gall to try walking past him. Gideon’s hand shot out and closed around her arm. A look of indignant astonishment swept her features.
“My way”, he said softly. “We’ll do things my way.”
“Why, you conceited, overbearing tyrant.”
“And here I thought you were having trouble understanding me.”
He didn’t know why he was taunting her. But he did know he wasn’t going to yield to the powerful temptation of turning himself inside out to please her.
“You can’t make me believe this rusty bit of chivalry with which you insist on bullying me is anything more than an example of your perverse nature.” She tugged her arm. “Now let me go.”
Strange how her absolute lack of coquettishness made him incredibly aware of her femininity. Standing this close to her, with her upturned face just inches from his, he was bombarded by her subtle beauty. Her skin was flushed with color. Her soft, parted lips trembled. Her eyes, sheltered beneath thick, dark lashes, beckoned him to pull her more tightly to him.
“My ‘perverse nature’ likes to make sure I get a sound night’s sleep. I won’t be able to do that if I’m kept awake by visions of you running for your life from some drifter who never got that first lesson on manners.-Nor do I like the thought of you getting caught in another rainstorm. Unless you like my hand on you and want to prolong this useless argument, I suggest you accept my offer of a carriage ride.” He couldn’t resist adding, “With an appreciative smile.”
Her eyes spat fire. Her feminine ferocity was oddly invigorating. For too many years, cynicism and bitterness had formed the bedrock of his character. This woman straining futilely against his hold glowed, with enough earnest outrage to thaw the most frigid soul. Her obvious devotion to duty and her spirited nature lured him closer.
She struggled briefly before giving in to the inevitable. Her breathing was fast and shallow. The stench of dog had dissipated. For the first time, her female scent teased his nostrils. His body hardened.
“All right. I’ll accept your offer.”
Her brittle capitulation seemed a major victory. “Where’s the smile?”
She bared her teeth with surprising indelicacy. If she was tamed to his handling, it would be a pleasure to feel the tips of those teeth lightly scraping various parts of his anatomy. In her present state, though, he doubted his hide would escape serious damage.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Her eyes silently burned him at the stake. He watched her take a deep breath. He’d lost count of how many times during their encounter she’d done so. He would have liked to watch her chest inflate, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from her face.
“Are you going to release me?”
“Of course.” He did so reluctantly.
“I’ll wait here while you change,” she said coolly.
“Change?” They would be here until the next century if she expected him to change his basic nature.
“You’ll catch a chill if you go outside dressed as you are.”
For the first time since coming downstairs, Gideon became conscious of his attire.. He felt Miss Step’s gaze drift to the ridiculous nightshirt he’d been compelled to put on in order to greet his overemotional niece.
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d experienced the heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck. Having Miss Step see him in the frilled, embroidered nightshirt he’d received several Christmases ago from a former lover with peculiar taste in men’s clothing would be enough to make any man squirm.
The alternative would have been to come downstairs with nothing beneath the robe, which, of course, he couldn’t do with Courtney in the house. He usually slept naked and hadn’t even known he owned a nightshirt until he’d rummaged through his dresser. A cruel and malicious fate had decreed this nauseating beribboned garment to be the only thing with which he could quickly cover himself.
Gideon shoved his fingers through his hair in disgust. It was amazing that Miss Step hadn’t broken into gales of laughter at the sight of him in rosebuds and pink ribbons. It annoyed the hell out of him that she probably assumed it was his habit to wear such feminine-looking apparel.
He cleared his throat. “It won’t take me long to dress.”
“If you would just be reasonable about letting me—”
“We settled that argument. I won. You lost. Remember?”
He knew he sounded like the very tyrant she’d called him, but he refused to continue standing there dressed as he was. When this confrontation ended, he intended to have his pants on.
“I have an excellent memory,” she said with surprising calm.
Had she finally learned which of them was in charge?
“Wait here,” he instructed briskly.
She opened her mouth.
He raised an eyebrow, daring her to balk at his command. A half second passed. Obviously, she was weighing the ramifications of further rebellion.
“All right.”
It was nice to know that the universe had returned to its proper course, a course where Courtney and her intrepid schoolmistress yielded to his authority. “Help yourself to another glass of sherry. I won’t be long.”
Emma watched Courtney’s uncle stride from the room. She had no intention of having more sherry, or of cooling her heels while he went upstairs to dress. It was time the insufferable toad learned he could not bend everyone to his will. A flash of satisfaction swept through her as she thanked the Creator for the honor of being allowed to prick the overinflated bubble of Gideon Cade’s pride.
She wasted no time in vacating the library, moving quickly through the hall. It occurred to her that, if Miss Hempshire closed the academy as immediately as she’d announced she would, Courtney might not return to school. Emma experienced a pang of sadness that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to say goodbye.
When she stepped into the entry, the sight of her torn and muddy cloak hanging from the coatrack next to the front door stopped her. It seemed as if a dozen years had passed since she first entered Mr. Cade’s residence. As she spread the timeworn garment over her shoulders, she remembered the dog.
Drat, she had no desire to burden poor Duncan with the likes of Courtney’s coldhearted uncle or his bizarre butler. Even though she hadn’t the means to support even herself for long in Denver, she impetuously decided to take the hound with her.
Emma altered her path and followed the direction Broadbent had taken when he led the dog away. She walked through a faintly lit hallway, past a spacious dining chamber and down a short flight of stairs. Another turn brought her into a large, well-scrubbed kitchen.
The dim light leaking from a trimmed lamp revealed large copper kettles hanging above an immense brick fireplace. There was also a substantial cookstove. On one of the wide counters sat a blue ceramic bowl over which a white cloth had been spread. A small bulge pushed upward at the draped cloth, indicating that bread dough was rising beneath it. Two apple pies cooled beside a deep steel sink. A large smoked ham lay next to the short-handled pump. Various tall cabinets and a sturdy wood table surrounded by half a dozen chairs added to the room’s aura of secure abundance.
At the rich aroma wafting from the apple pies, smoked ham and expanding bread dough, Emma’s steps faltered. She’d been so upset by Miss Loutitia’s news about the academy closing that she’d paced her bedchamber instead of going downstairs for supper. Emma’s stomach growled in recognition of how long it had been since she ate. She sympathized more keenly with Duncan for having to depend upon the kindness of strangers to supply him with food.
Forcing herself to ignore the thickly crusted apple pies’ siren call, she looked around the meagerly lit room in hopes of finding the stray hound.
“Duncan, where are you?”
Only her own rapid breathing disturbed the chamber’s silence. She saw the vague outline of a door through the shadowy darkness and walked toward it. She’d almost reached it when her right foot slammed into a chair leg. Pain shot from her toes through her entire body.
“Ow! Ooh, oh, that hurts!” She didn’t know which was louder, her cries or the raw scrape of the chair against the wood-planked floor.
Standing on one foot, she leaned forward and massaged her throbbing toes. It was difficult to see past the tears that had sprung to her eyes, but she forced herself to limp the rest of the way to the door. It opened to the outside. She was dismayed to discover a thick fog had drifted into town.
“Duncan,” she called again. Then she realized the fickle mutt probably didn’t comprehend that he’d been newly christened. “Here, doggy, it’s time to leave.”
Nothing disturbed the dank grayness that enveloped her. “I’m going now. I’ll be at the academy.” She was wasting her breath. Even if the dog was hiding nearby, he couldn’t possibly understand her.
She waited a moment longer, listening for a canine whine or whimper. Hearing nothing, she shifted her attention to the misty, otherworldly landscape that surrounded her. In even the best of circumstances, finding her bearings was challenging. In this macabre situation, she felt utterly disoriented.
She tried to visualize the position of the side doorway she’d stepped through in relation to the mansion’s exterior as it faced the street. It seemed that, if she walked straight ahead for a couple of yards and then turned right—no left—she would be heading toward the flagstone path she’d used to reach the front porch. When she found that path, she would go in the opposite direction and turn left…or was it right? No, a left turn would point her in the direction of the academy. Well, she hoped so, anyway.
Emma drew her thin cloak about her and tried to remember why she’d been so opposed to having Courtney’s uncle give her a ride in his carriage.
Oh, yes, he was an arrogant cur who terrorized others so that he could have his way. Also, there was a predatory look in his brooding eyes that made her skin tingle and her heart pound. She didn’t like how she felt when he was breathing down her neck, as if she were melting from the inside out and not in control of her mind and body.
Hoping for a stroke of good fortune, she surged forward into the fog. A fresh bolt of pain radiated from her right foot. It did little for her tranquillity to realize she would be limping all the way back to the academy. She tried to dispel the feeling that she was an injured warrior surrendering the battlefield to a superior foe. Besides, if she had been vanquished, it was only because he’d employed unfair tactics.
She took only a few steps before she smacked into what must have been a brick wall. Her injured foot registered its anguished protest. Emma braced one hand against the wall and reached down to comfort her battered toes.
The wall shifted unexpectedly, and she lost her balance. “Oh!”
Amazingly, the wall reached out to steady her.
“Well, Miss Step, now that we’ve established your word is worthless, shall we be on our way?”
As he’d certainly intended, the insulting question stung her pride.
She refused to feel one iota of guilt for trying to escape his odious company. “I was under no obligation to stay.”
“Only the obligation of having agreed to do so.”
“You…you bullied me into agreeing to wait.”
