Heiress in Regency Society. Helen Dickson

Heiress in Regency Society - Helen Dickson


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or my permission.’

      ‘Which one?’

      ‘Forest Shadow.’

      Nathan’s blue eyes widened with astonishment. ‘What? You mean that magnificent sorrel you bought at Newmarket recently?’

      ‘The same.’

      ‘Good Lord. He’s a peppery beast at the best of times. Much too powerful for a young woman to handle.’

      ‘One thing I have learned about Miss Hamilton, Nathan, is that she is no ordinary young woman—as you will discover very soon. She is also more trouble than I need right now.’

      ‘Shouldn’t you go after her?’

      ‘No. The pesky young whelp is only happy when she’s courting danger and annoying me. If she chooses to test her skills against that restless, high-stepping beast, then so be it.’

      Nathan’s chuckling merriment could not be restrained and he laughed out loud. ‘Pesky she may be, Alex, but Patience tells me she has been blessed with the most incredible looks. Considering your reputation as a rake of the first order, you cannot have failed to notice.’

      Alex’s frown was formidable. ‘It depends on one’s taste—which is something we never did agree upon. The girl is a menace and has wreaked havoc in my life from the day I met her. She is everything I expected—a savage—and temperamental. She brings out the worst and everything that is alien to my nature. She also has the infuriating ability to rouse all that is evil in me, and she has a tongue that would flay the skin off a man’s back better than any cat.’ Yes, he thought, everything about her annoyed him, everything except her courage, which was a quality he could not help but admire.

      ‘Perhaps if you were not so hard on her—if you tried to be more understanding towards her—you might find her more amenable,’ Nathan said, blithely ignoring the simmering rage emanating from his friend. ‘Give way a little. Try a softer, more gentle approach. Smooth her feathers and you’ll soon have her purring like a kitten. I’m sure if you do you’ll discover a more docile and agreeable young woman.’

      Alex stopped and looked at his friend as though he’d taken leave of his senses. ‘God in heaven, Nathan! There is nothing docile or agreeable about her. She has no respect for authority—and the only feline she resembles is a hellcat. That girl’s the biggest stumbling block my temper has ever known. Try a softer approach, you say! The only softness about her I would like to make contact with right now would be laying the flat of my hand firmly on her derrière. The girl needs a sound thrashing that will leave her unable to sit down for a month. I will not be defied and dictated to in my own home by an eighteen-year-old chit of a girl.’

      ‘Or anywhere else for that matter,’ chuckled Nathan. It was clear that, where Angelina Hamilton was concerned, Alex’s patience was wearing thin and he was in no mood to negotiate a better relationship with her.

      Alex’s mouth tightened. ‘Her defiance cannot be overlooked. She resolved to be difficult from the start. With each day that dawns I wonder what kind of uproar she will cause next. The other day she went shooting rabbits for my dinner, and this very morning I caught her making use of my bathing chamber—and now the brazen wench has ridden off on a high-spirited, excitable horse without my permission.’

      Nathan’s brows shot up in astonishment. ‘Do you mean to say she actually shot a rabbit?’

      ‘She did,’ Alex replied icily, ‘and she very nearly shot me in the process.’

      Stupefied, Nathan stared at him, thoroughly amused. It was unbelievable that Alex, who always had absolute control over his emotions, who treated women with a combination of indifference, amused tolerance and indulgence, could have been driven to such an uncharacteristic outburst of feelings by an eighteen-year-old girl.

      ‘Miss Hamilton has a way with her, I’ve been told. Your uncle is enslaved, and she has your entire staff eating out of her delectable hands. According to Patience, every one of the grooms down to the youngest stable lad are all in love with her. She’s even managed to charm old Jenkins. God help you if she uses it on you, Alex. You may well be lost. There will be no escape—and I very much doubt you will wish to.’

      Alex glared at him. ‘Don’t count on it.’

      Nathan directed his gaze towards the house, knowing there would be no reasoning with his friend until he had severely chastised Miss Hamilton. ‘I am already feeling sorry for Miss Hamilton. The look on your face tells me you are going for blood, no less.’

      ‘You’re right,’ Alex replied, lengthening his stride. ‘And after the run-ins we’ve had in the past, she doesn’t have very much left to lose.’

      Having ridden further than she intended on the brave, fast horse, Angelina found herself enveloped in a shadowy world of muted sounds, where damp and decay rose from the under-growth and assailed her nostrils, and squirrels skittered in the upper branches of the trees. Without the sun a bitter chill had fallen on this twilight world.

      A feeling of unreality crept over her and she shuddered, glad when she saw an opening in the trees ahead where sunlight slanted through. Riding towards the light, she reined in beneath a canopy of oaks. The scent of wood smoke hung heavy in the air. Experiencing a prickling sensation at the nape of her neck and an eerie, familiar feeling, her head snapped up like an animal scenting danger.

      She had emerged into some sort of encampment with an assortment of brightly painted caravans and carts, all of which had a shabby appearance. Dogs roamed and several piebald ponies grazed nearby. Men, women and children prowled about furtively in their garishly coloured attire, and some older people sat around a fire where ribbons of smoke spiralled upwards out of the embers.

      Angelina knew instinctively that these people were the gypsies Alex had told her about, the gypsies he had told to move on. She sensed that every eye had become fixed on her. Two men with gold rings in their ears and brightly coloured scarves tied loosely around their necks rose from where they were sitting on the wooden steps of the caravan nearest to her. She swallowed nervously as they stood quite still, watching her.

      They looked foreign—their skin swarthy and their hair hanging loose, lank and shiny black. Distrust and resentment lurked in their fathomless, totally unrevealing dark eyes. Her heart almost ceased to beat when her eyes were drawn to a knife sheathed at one of the men’s waists, and when she met his gaze she felt a sudden chill, as if a shadow had passed in front of the sun, robbing her of its warmth.

      No one made any attempt to speak to her, but the air was charged with an ugly tension, menace bristling all around her, the very silence an enemy. She shuddered, feeling extremely vulnerable and afraid. Through a veil of confusion and fear, what she now saw was a scene from her past. She glimpsed the dark, shadowy images creeping with stealth out of the locked doors of her mind, and she was sure they were catching up with her. All her deepest, darkest nightmares lay among the ghosts these gypsies resurrected, and with her emotions heightened to fever pitch, she feared she was about to be attacked again.

      Whirling Forest Shadow about, she kicked him into a gallop. Trembling with fear she was borne homeward, unaware as Forest Shadow’s iron-shod hooves struck the cobbles in the stable yard with ringing tones that her low state was about to be brought even lower.

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