Saving Marilee Read online

  "I didn't know it was you!" I defended. His eyes were so confused, as if I was making no sense. "How would you like to be snuck up on when you were entirely alone?"

  His eyes fell to the ground, his face scrunching in thought. I could not tell if he was embarrassed, or insulted, or just flustered. Finally he looked up. "I'm sorry for frightening you, for making you feel unsafe. I was checking my property line. Our lands join just over there." He pointed across the stream. "When I saw someone running through the woods, I wanted to be sure that it wasn't a trespasser. I had no idea it was you."

  I nodded because I didn't know what else to do. "Would you please point me in the direction of my house?"

  He looked to the heavens and gave a sigh. "Marilee." His eyes settled on me. "You are wet. I am fairly certain you are hurt. And you are also unsure which way you should go. I happen to have a horse that could carry you, as well as extensive knowledge of this estate. Will you please let me take you back to your house?"

  I wanted to say no. I wanted to do this on my own. However, James had managed to earn a bit of my trust. I should probably let him help me, try to trust him more. Why was it so hard?

  He didn't push me, just waited. If I were to say no, he would likely just walk alongside me as I made my way back to the house. He was a gentleman. And I knew that, so why did I hesitate? To have any hope of breaking free of Damian, I would need to do this.

  I managed a nod, though my head felt heavy as I forced it to move.

  He took hold of his horse's reins and guided it over to me. James's movements were slow, the way one might move around a skittish animal. He stopped the horse when the saddle was even with my chest. Then he wrapped his coat around me before tipping his head toward the horse.

  "Captain is tall, so I'll need to help you." It sounded like a warning. Like he was preparing me for the fact that he would have to touch me.

  "I know." My voice shook only slightly. He would have had to help me regardless of the horse's size. I had never learned to mount on my own.

  I resisted the urge to flinch or hold my breath as he reached for my waist. I put my hands on his shoulders and he lifted me onto the saddle. It was a regular saddle, so my sitting sideways was a little precarious.

  "Grab on to the front and back of the saddle while I look at your ankle."

  I did as directed, too shocked to voice any objection as he took my foot in hand. I carefully controlled my breathing as he pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at my ankle. A hole had been ripped in my stocking, and a scrape over my ankle bone was visible. I must have cut it on a rock or branch when I tried to leap onto the bank.

  I wanted him to stop touching me at the same time that I realized it was not actually unpleasant to have his fingers running over my skin. He tied the handkerchief around my ankle and let go. I closed my eyes, too embarrassed to look at him.

  "Now," he said. "Turn to the front and grab hold of Captain's mane."

  I did so and wondered how I would stay on without a pommel to anchor my knee. My question was answered when James pulled himself up into the saddle behind me. I sucked in a breath as his chest came flush with my back. I had dealt with him touching my ankle, but this? This was too much. He was too close and too warm and too strong and too male and—

  "Since this is not a lady's saddle," he interrupted my mental rant, "it will be best if I wrap one arm around you to be sure you are not unseated."

  He could not possibly be serious! I was practically sitting in his lap, leaning into his chest, and now he wanted to wrap his arm around me? For the entire ride back?

  "I—" was all I managed to get out before one arm circled my waist and the other took hold of the reins. "I'm wet. You'll get wet."

  "I can handle a bit of water." James nudged Captain's sides, and I gritted my teeth as the horse settled into a walk. Why had I agreed to this? I should have just walked.

  "Are you all right?"

  "No." My voice was strained and breathless and I shook my head. "No, I'm not, I...I—"

  "Did you know you have wheat in your hair?"

  "What?" I turned to look at him.

  His smile was reassuring as he dropped the reins (though Captain kept walking) and reached for my hair. He tugged a wheat head free and held it in front of my face.

  "Oh, that," was my inane reply.

  "There are several stuck in your hair. They look as if they were put there on purpose." There was a question in his eyes.

  "Yes."

  He raised his eyebrows in approval. "A fine adornment. Perhaps you will start a new trend."

  I turned to face forward again. "Don't be ridiculous." He was teasing me, and I wasn't sure if I liked it.

  James put the wheat back in my hair, then gathered the reins and tightened his hold on my waist.

  My heart jumped yet again, but somehow the feeling of wanting to crawl out of my skin had receded. Perhaps it was simply that he was so relaxed. We left the trees and circled the field. When he directed Captain to go to the front of the house, I asked that he take me to the back instead. It would feel less awkward to enter the back when I was in such a state. James didn't question or seem to think it was odd, just tugged on the reins.

  He pulled Captain to a stop and I tried to slide down but James held me still.

  "Let me," he requested, then swung to the ground.

  He helped me down, and I stepped away, noticing the way James stayed where he was and clasped his hands behind his back. He seemed nervous, perhaps anxious.

  I couldn't think of a thing to say, so I gave a hasty thank you and hurried into the house.

  It wasn't until I'd shut myself in my room that I looked down and realized I still wore James's coat. My humiliation was complete.

  Chapter Nine

  TWO DAYS LATER, I stepped out into the sun, heading toward the garden, but was intercepted by Mr. Tennsworth.

  I smiled. "Mr. Tennsworth, how are you this morning?"

  "I'm well enough, Miss Marilee, well enough, but might I—" he looked over his shoulder, "—walk with you for a spell?"

  "Of course." Though he was acting curious, I was happy to have him fall into step beside me.

  "I'll get right to it, Miss Marilee. I seen some things last night that have me a fair bit worried."

  Alarm flared in my chest. "Whatever do you mean?"

  "You know I don't want to worry you if it's nothing, but there was twice last night when I saw a fellow or two on horseback, snooping 'round the property."

  My heart jumped up to clog my throat as my eyes skipped from tree to tree, scanning the horizon.

  "Now, they never did come on the property, just kept at the edge. But I thought you should know, seeing as how you've only got me around to keep an eye on things."

  I nodded.

  "Let's keep walking." He took my elbow, gently propelling me onward, so that I had to focus ahead of me. "Now, I don't want to push you to do anything. After all, it's not my place. But I think it might be time for you to hire some help."

  I shook my head and he fell silent. "I've written to my father, explaining my lack of staff. I have no doubt that the minute he receives it, he'll be on his way here, accompanied by a contingent of soldiers."

  His sigh was heavy, but all he said was, "Good, good."

  As we meandered in silence, I ran my sash through my hands, turning the situation over in my mind, and Mr. Tennsworth kept up a steady walk, his hands deep in his pockets. Finally I had to voice the obvious. "It will be several more days at least before they arrive. What can we do until then?"

  "I've got an idea, Miss Marilee, but I don't think you'll like it."

  "What is it?"

  He cut his eyes over to me as if weighing whether or not it was worth saying. "You've got a neighbor who's willing and capable. Ask him for help."

  "I won't go begging a practical stranger for protection." Granted, I couldn't think of him as only a neighbor, but the idea still made me bristle.

  "I didn't think you
would. But why not ask for his advice at least? We've seen people lurking in the neighborhood. You should ask him if he's seen anything suspicious."

  It made sense. And if James hadn't seen anything, we should at least warn him so that he could keep a watchful eye. I pulled a section of hair from the back of my neck, threading it through my fingers as I thought.

  Mr. Tennsworth interrupted my musing. "It would be best to talk to Mr. Sutton today. I want to be prepared in case they return tonight."

  "I doubt that Mr. Sutton plans on coming here today."

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. "Is there a reason you couldn't make a neighborly call to his place?"

  Calling on a gentleman had never crossed my mind. In my parents' home I had been surrounded by admirers who went out of their way to call on me. My courtship with Damian had entailed several extended visits that he had made to my home. "I suppose not," I admitted, though the thought of going to see him when our last encounter had been so intimately awkward was mortifying. Still. If there was danger, he needed to know.

  After changing into a riding skirt and giving myself a scolding about not being a coward, I set out with Mr. Tennsworth. He led the way since I had never been to Sutton Manor, and Rogue trotted dutifully at my side, sensing my unease.

  The closer we drew to James's home, the more I fidgeted and twisted in my saddle. I knew that Mr. Tennsworth noticed, as he would rub his stubbled jaw in an attempt to hide his smirk each time I squirmed. However, he was too polite to say anything.

  We turned from the main road onto a lane lined with willows. Beyond the willows were rolling fields dotted with horses. The scene nearly stole my breath. Mr. Sutton's land was bright and open, unlike my home, which was hedged in by hills and dense woods.

  I was so enraptured by the scenery that we arrived at the house before I'd had a chance to prepare for it. His home was similar in style to my own, but it was smaller and the architecture had softer lines.

  A groom came out to greet us. He was probably fifteen or sixteen and fought a blush as he helped me dismount. He took our horses in hand and ducked his head as he led them away.

  As I gathered my courage to approach the ornate carved wood of the door, a movement caught my eye. I turned in the direction that the groom had disappeared to and nearly choked as I took in the sight of James walking toward me. It was clear he was coming from the stables. He wasn't wearing riding clothes, but was clothed instead in a linen work shirt with sleeves pushed above his elbows, and plain britches tucked into worn work boots. His eyes were bright with exertion and he kept having to push his hair from his forehead as he came closer.

  I, for all my years of etiquette and social training, stood there like a simpleton and tried to remember to breathe. I had come here with a purpose, though I couldn't remember what.

  I reached for a piece of hair to play with, but fortunately it was safely tucked up under my hat where I could not reach it.

  Rogue greeted him with a bark and a thumping tail. James's smile was wide when he stopped a few steps from me to scratch Rogue's head and then bowed at the waist. "Your Highness."

  I didn't like that. My title was not what I wanted to be called by the man before me. "I thought we had agreed on Marilee."

  His chest swelled and he seemed to be trying to get his smile under control. "We did. Thank you for that reminder, Marilee." He shoved his hair back and I admired his toned arm. He was clearly well acquainted with the outdoors and didn't seem in the least put out to be caught in his work clothes. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

  My mind was a blank, and for a moment I feared that I would humiliate myself by not remembering the reason for calling on him.

  Mr. Tennsworth rescued me. "I seen some suspicious things last even, Mr. Sutton. I'll let Miss Marilee tell you about it."

  "Oh?" James's eyes remained on me as Mr. Tennsworth excused himself to look after the horses.

  I cleared my throat. "Yes. Mr. Tennsworth saw several men on horseback who seemed to be interested in the house or the property. We wanted to know if you had seen anything..."

  James dropped his gaze, shifting uncomfortably, his mouth open as if wanting to speak but unable to come up with the words. He finally lifted his eyes to mine, but now he looked embarrassed. "A thousand apologies, Marilee. I'm so sorry to have caused you distress."

  "Whatever do you mean?"

  "I asked my men to ride by your estate last night to be sure they didn't see anything untoward. I was concerned because of your lack of protection, but didn't wish to concern you with my worries. It was thoughtless of me to not realize that my own men could upset you."

  "Oh," was the only thing I could think to say. I didn't know how I felt about such a thing. It was thoughtful, more than kind, but it also plucked at my confidence and pride.

  "I'm sorry. I should have spoken with you about my unease, but I've worried a great deal about you being so isolated, and I truly just wanted to ensure your safety." He kept his gaze fixed to mine, concern clouding his eyes. "Are you very angry?"

  Was I?

  "No."

  His brows shot up, then his smile returned. "Then might we discuss the possibility of my men looking out for you on a more permanent basis?"

  The way he looked at me made my neck grow hot. I swallowed my pride. "I would appreciate the assistance, but it needn't be permanent. I have asked my father to help me remedy the situation. I expect it won't be more than a week."

  Relief blanketed his face. "Very good. Until then, my men will keep an eye out."

  I nodded and wondered why I couldn't figure out what to do with my hands. "You told me you have a passion for horses. How many do you own?"

  "Eight at the moment. Would you like to see them?"

  "Yes, please."

  He held out his arm and I tried not to act too ridiculous as I placed my hand on his bare forearm. My fingers had the oddest urge to caress his tanned skin, but I commanded them to remain still.

  We walked in comfortable silence around the house and out to the stables. The air inside was alive with the sound of grooms working and horses shuffling.

  James took me down the aisle, introducing me to each of his treasured horses. I was captivated by the way his face brightened with each horse we encountered. His pride was effusive and compelling, drawing me into his pleasant mood though I understood little of what he was telling me about size, stamina and foaling potential.

  We were nearly to the end of the line when a groom walked in, leading a horse that arrested my attention. I stopped, shocked. "Why do you have my horse?"

  "Pardon?"

  "Angel." I walked over to my beautiful mare, allowing her to snuffle at my neck and nudge my shoulder in recognition. I stroked her cheeks as the reason for her presence in these stables became clear. A fire snapped within me as I looked to James. "He sold her to you?"

  "She's yours?"

  "A gift from my parents that my husband declared impractical." Despite the fact that I had never been overly attached to my horse, Damian's depriving me of Angel had been a festering pain—one more reason to despise my husband. "I can't believe he sold her to you."

  "You would rather someone else own her?" He tried to hide it, but I could hear the hurt in his voice.

  "Of course not! I only meant that—" What did I mean? "She was so close this whole time and I had no idea. I could have come to see her, or at least I would have felt better knowing she was close by."

  "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice so close that I knew he must be standing just behind my shoulder.

  I breathed deep. "It's not your fault," I said, leaning back to admire her sweet face. "At least she has a good owner."

  "As far as I am concerned, you are her owner, Marilee."

  I shook my head. "You paid for her. And I can barely care for the horses I have."

  "I'll keep her here. But she is yours."

  I didn't want to argue, so I simply said, "Thank you," and let the groom return Angel to her stal
l. When I turned back to look at James, he was frowning. His eyes were on my face—or were they? No, they were on my neck. I brought my hand up to cover my scar and took a step back.

  His eyes met mine. "Forgive me—"

  I turned away. "I should be going." I hurried away from him, dodging grooms in my haste to escape the confines of the stables and his disgust. At least that's what it felt like. I knew how my scar looked.

  I rounded the house and stopped in the empty drive.

  "Would you like me to fetch your horse?" James asked from behind me.

  I didn't turn around, just said, "Yes, please."

  Instead of leaving, he circled around so that he was facing me. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

  I couldn't quite meet his gaze because I was falling in on myself, crumpling under the vulnerability. "I know it's unsightly."

  "What is?"

  "My scar." The thing he'd been staring and frowning at.

  He shook his head. "Nothing about you is unsightly."

  My heart fluttered at his bold statement, but still. "You were staring at it."

  "I was wondering if not knowing how it happened tortures your mind in the same way that it tortures mine."

  "Oh," I breathed, shocked by his empathy.

  "Is there no way to find out? No one you could ask?"

  "I..." Was there? "I knew that no one would tell me, so I forced myself to stop wondering. But I suppose Mrs. Braithwhite must know. She was there when I fainted."

  "Anyone else?"

  "Just another maid."

  "Were they both there when you woke up?"

  "No, it was just Mrs. Braithwhite and Damian."

  "Where is she now?"

  "I don't know and have no wish to know."

  He considered me for a moment. "If you had the chance to get answers from her, would you take that chance?"

  "Yes." The immediacy of my response surprised me. Despite the loathing I carried for Mrs. Braithwhite, I wouldn't pass up an opportunity to just know. To know who had hurt me, and why they had hurt me.

  "Would you mind if I attempted to locate her?"

  I shook my head. "I just want to know."