Charmed By Knight (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (2 page)

Despite the stabbing pain in her head, she managed to open her eyes. She blinked to focus on the man sitting beside her. His face came into view as he peered down at her.

Mother had depicted the duke as a handsome man, but her mother’s description hadn’t done this man justice. He was the most striking man she’d ever beheld. Dark hair slicked back off his forehead and rested on his shoulders, appeared as if he’d combed his fingers through the damp locks. Warm blue-gray eyes held steady on her with a hint of concern in his expression. A square jaw, strong neck, and shoulders broad like his chest reminded her of sculptured statues of gods she’d seen.

Although, he wasn’t wearing his over-jacket. This morning, her mother had described what he wore as he left the dowager duchess’ country estate, and without his jacket Meagan couldn’t be certain this was the same man.

“Welcome back.” His voice was deep and tranquil. “How do you feel?”

She tried to decipher how her body felt, but his compassionate smile kept her mind transfixed. “I ache all over,” she rasped.

“Let me get you a drink.” He quickly left her side and moved to the small table near the corner of the room where a pitcher and glass of water sat.

Quickly, she swept her gaze over his beige trousers and black knee-boots. She bit her bottom lip to hold back a satisfied grin. This was what her mother told Megan the duke wore this morning.

Kelton
brought back a glass of water and handed her the cup. He smiled and her heart melted. He was certainly a knight, minus the shining armor, who had rescued her. The kind of gentleman all women dream about meeting and losing their heart to.

She sipped and handed the cup back to him. “Thank you.”

He placed the empty cup on the table. Once he turned back to her, he swept his fingers across her forehead. “You look as if you were caught in the middle of a cat fight.” He stroked her cheek and chin, sending a different kind of chill through her body, comforting her more than the blanket. “Your face is covered with scratches.”

“I fear the storm got the best of me.”

He cocked his head, his eyes still locked with hers. “Pray, why were you riding alone in the storm?”

She shrugged, and a pain shot through her arm. She winced. “I was trying to catch up to the rest of the party.” The lie came far too easily from her lips, and she hated having to do this.

“What party?”

“Your grandmother – the dowager duchess’ party – that rode into town earlier.”

His brows drew together for a brief moment, then once again a pleasant look crossed his handsome features. “What is your name? I don’t remember seeing you at my grandmother’s party.”

“I’m Miss Ramsey. My mother is Patrice Ramsey, Lady Saxton.”

He nodded. “I vaguely remember the name. Is your father a newly made Baron?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have met him. We have crossed paths on a few occasions.”

Through her worn nerves, she managed a smile.

Chuckling, he stood and sauntered to the fire. He took the poker and stirred the broken log. “You are fortunate I was around to save you from drowning today.”

“Drowning, Your Grace?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes twinkling with merriment…or was it excitement? Her heartbeat increased.

“The storm outside is horrendous. I fear it will not relent for quite a while. You are bound to be stuck in my presence until this evening, or possibly even longer. Such a horrendous situation, is it not?”

Horrendous?
Not according to her parents’ plans. Megan’s heart bounced out of control. They would be alone together for most of the day?
Oh, dear!
“Then you are indeed my knight in shining armor.”

He laughed again as he replaced the poker. “I’m a knight, am I?” He straightened and turned toward a chair sitting nearby the fireplace, adjusting her green jacket and skirt as he brought it closer to the heat. When she recognized her clothes, her eyes widened. She gasped and looked down at her body, lifting the covers to see what she wore.

Mortification washed over her and her cheeks burned. She wore only her underclothes. Hitching a breath, she clutched the bedcovers and pulled them to her chin. He must have undressed her since they were the only two in the room.

He turned. Slowly, the beginning of a smile danced across his lips. “What distresses you, my lovely lady?”

“I’m…I’m…undressed,” she whispered.

“Yes, you are.”

“How…when…I mean, did you—”

He chuckled. “Yes, I undressed you. I couldn’t very well have you catch your death, now could I? You were soaked clean through.”

Her face grew hot from embarrassment, making her head pound even worse. “But that is most
im
—improper.”

He sauntered to the bed and sat on the edge. “If it comforts your mind any, I was a complete gentleman and didn’t look.”

The teasing grin on his face told her differently.

She tilted her head. “Why do I not believe you?”

“All right, then. I will admit I took a glance, but it was very brief.”

The heat on her cheeks scalded her. He cupped her chin with his hand, and she almost expected him to yelp from the burn. He smiled instead.

“Forgive me for causing you distress, but I couldn’t allow you to remain in those wet clothes. It would have been very
un-
gentlemanly of me to let you stay that way and become sick.”

She pulled back his touch, keeping the covers around her neck. “But, in the same respect, it’s not gentlemanly of you to undress an unconscious woman either.”

His dark brow arched. “I shall keep it a secret until my dying day.”

She now doubted he was the gentleman her mother promised him to be. “If I’m undressed, you should not be here with me.”

He glanced back at the window. The rain fell in sheets, pounding against the glass. “I don’t think I will be going anywhere soon. It is raining something dreadful and I don’t have a paddle boat to get home.”

She groaned and sank deeper into the softness of the bed. This wasn’t exactly what her mother planned. The change of events didn’t make Megan very comfortable.

“Your Grace? Is there anything in this cottage I might wear until my clothes are dried?”

He scratched his chin – darkened slightly by the shadow of a beard – as he kept his stare on her. Then his smile brightened. “I think I have something in the other room.”

He stood and left her side, but his manly scent lingered, teasing her senses, making shivers run over her body. She gathered the blankets closer to her chin and surveyed her surroundings.

Strange, but Megan didn’t think the room would be this small considering the money the duke’s family had. The largest piece of furniture was the bed she lay in. Across from her sat an oak table and two French Damask embroidered chairs, and not far from that, a roll-top desk made out of the same wood. Pale velvet portieres covered the windows, and if the sun were out, it would have helped brighten the room due to the amount of space the windows covered.

She glanced toward the doorway where he had exited. The kitchen must be back that way. If so, why would he go back there to retrieve clothing for her?

He returned carrying a man’s heavy dressing robe. “Will this do?” He held it up.

She groaned. At least it was better than a bed sheet. “Yes. Thank you.”

He laid the garment at the bottom of the bed. “While you slip this on, I shall go into the kitchen and see what is edible, since we have no servants to do our bidding.”

“Thank you, again, Your Grace.”

He remained staring at her, and with a light chuckle, shook his head and left. She wondered why he thought all of this humorous. It didn’t matter. At least he wasn’t upset at her for ruining his morning and afternoon.

Megan jumped out of bed and in haste wrapped the robe around her body. The aches spearing her limbs provided evidence of her bruises, but she tried to ignore the pain. She made certain no part of her neck or arms showed before she climbed back into bed, pulling up the blanket to cover herself.

Although she should help him prepare the food, she didn’t dare. The hem of the robe would show him her unshapely legs – a part of her she absolutely abhorred. But then, he had already undressed her, so he’d seen all of her.

From just that improper thought, heat rushed to her face. The embarrassment flowing through her was different this time and she couldn’t help but smile at the strange sensations awakening inside her.

Nothing was going the way she thought it would. True, they were in the woodsman’s cottage alone like her mother had wanted. And they certainly needed to stay here for quite a while. But his very masculine presence made her heart hammer out of control. Not to mention his hypnotizing grin weakened her legs.

She was definitely in over her head this time.

* * * *

Edmund Knight laughed to himself as he broke apart the bread loaf and arranged it on the plate. What a wonderful day this had turned into. When he first realized a storm was about to ruin his morning ride and he’d have to stay inside most of the day, it damped his mood. Once the storm hit and he headed back, he heard the scream of a woman. He didn’t realize until now just how fate had intervened and brought a whole new outlook to his day.

He really should tell her the truth about his identity, but this game of deceit brought excitement to a very drab afternoon. Since his property bordered the Dowager Duchess of
Kelton’s
, he didn’t have to ask Miss Ramsey why she referred to him as
Your Grace
or whose weekend party Miss Ramsey attended
.

His childhood rival, James Hartley, had never liked Edmund. And now that they were adults, his way of life appalled the new Lord
Kelton
. Unfortunately, the illegitimate sons of nobility were not received well in society. Though life granted Edmund wealth, acceptance was the one thing he would never grovel for.

James Hartley, the Duke of
Kelton
, had been born with a golden spoon in his mouth, whereas Edmund had worked his way through life, making himself a man of wealth by his own sweat. He relished the fact he was wealthier than most of the aristocracy in London. Only because of this was he welcomed into society…except no noble woman of decent standing would ever offer her daughter to him, no matter how much money he had.

Edmund shrugged. That suited him just fine. He liked having the reputation of a rake and the wild adventures associated with it. Like now. What good fortune it had been to find an unconscious woman lying in a blanket of leaves next to a fallen log.

It surprised him when Miss Ramsey didn’t know his true identity. He knew her father quite well. Saxton had played him for a fool, taking advantage of Edmund’s business knowledge. Then that scheming so-called nobleman had taken a priceless item from Edmund. Getting to know Saxton’s daughter might prove fruitful if she could provide the information necessary in obtaining his treasure.

Edmund found it strange she would confuse him with the duke. Edmund and the
Kelton
were as different as night and day, not only with their lifestyles, but their looks. James had the blond hair and brown eyes all women fawned over – and of course, the manners of a dreary gentleman. How foolishly predictable.

In the other room, the floor squeaked. He threw a glance over his shoulder, but only heard the padding of her small feet. The squeak of the old bed followed, letting him know she’d crawled back under the covers.

Exactly how innocent was this maiden? If she led the excessive lifestyle of her father, she would be as wanton as they came. Edmund had to make certain before he did anything scandalous.

He grinned wider. How very fortunate, indeed, that fate would smile upon him. The Baron, Lord Saxton, had taken what was Edmund’s, and now he’d take something from the Baron.

The beautiful Miss Ramsey.

What greater form of revenge could there be except to ruin the girl, making it impossible for her to marry? Lord Saxton would be crushed if he couldn’t find a good match for his daughter.

Edmund laughed, but quickly smothered it with a cough. Yes, this would be his revenge.

Still, he wondered if Megan was as innocent as she looked. But he knew young women like her. Clearly, Megan tried to trap the duke by riding after him in the storm. She would have known that he’d do the gentlemanly thing by taking her to his cottage until the storm passed.

By the looks of her outdated riding dress, it was plain to see the rumors he’d heard about Saxton were true. The Baron was in financial ruins. Served the fool right for stealing the deed to Edmund’s goldmine.

He fisted his hands as anger rushed through him. If only he could get the deed back. He’d worked too hard to have it taken from his grasp so quickly. Life in England had never been happy, but recovering the stolen treasure would take him away from here, back to San Francisco, the land he loved.

After arranging the plate of bread, cheese, and grapes, Edmund carried it into the other room. He’d play the part of a gentleman long enough to claim her body and soul. Indeed, revenge would be sweet.