My Runaway Heart (5 page)

Somehow she had endured an endless card party at the
Whimseys
' home, elderly neighbors of Aunt Winifred's,
Lindsay feeling through countless hands of whist as if her excitement might
very well kill her, and now she truly felt as if she were about to burst. At
last an adventure! But where was Jared? Oh, dear, had he forgotten?

Lindsay stopped abruptly at a window overlooking the
broad avenue and swept aside ivory lace curtains to take another peek, but
still no coach had slowed at the Piccadilly address.

The dull clip-clop of horses' hooves had drawn her to
the window a dozen times, and each time her disappointment had been almost
painful, making her wonder again if meeting Jared Giles, the Earl of
Dovercourt
, had been nothing but a dream. But Aunt Winifred's
frantic lecture all the way home had been quite real, as well as her
pronouncement in a stricken voice that there would be no more balls for several
days, the smelling salts passed more than once under the poor woman's nose.

"Please, please, don't be a dream," Lindsay
said fervently to herself, her breath fogging the windowpane. A soft drizzle
tapped at the glass, wispy strands of mist creeping over the
gaslit
thoroughfare. She turned back to the clock. Almost
half-past midnight . . .

No longer able to contain herself, Lindsay drew the
hood of her cloak over her hair as she quietly left her room, pausing only to
close the door behind her before she flew down the hall. Her slippers barely
made a sound upon the thick Oriental runner, but she knew the staircase would
be a different story. Nearly each step creaked, so she fled down them as
quickly as she could, her heart pounding for fear she might awaken one of the
servants.

Aunt Winifred, fortunately, slept as soundly as the
dead, as did her docile Welsh corgis, Ignatius and Primrose; Lindsay almost
imagined she could hear their buzzing snores following after her. But Matilda
was known to be a light sleeper—she had to be with such a mistress—yet Lindsay
couldn't worry about the Scotswoman now. She raced across the vaulted center
hall, nearly slipping on the polished pink marble floor, which only made her
heart beat faster.

Made her smile, too, Lindsay once more swept with
nervous excitement. Her last obstacle the imposing double front doors, she
nearly laughed with relief once she stepped outside into the chilly night air,
but her smile faded when she saw that no carriage and snorting horses awaited
her at the street. Shrouded from head to foot in her black cloak, she
hesitated, not sure whether to venture out closer to the road or resign herself
unhappily to bed.

"I was beginning to think perhaps you had
reconsidered our rendezvous."

Lindsay spun around as a tall shape materialized from
the shadows, her heart settling into her throat when she recognized Jared in
the hazy golden halo emanating from the lamplight in the street. "No, no,
I didn't see the carriage . . ." She fell silent, gaping as a glossy black
coach drawn by four magnificent matched bays eased into motion from where it
had been waiting several houses away, only to stop at the head of Aunt Winifred's
walk, the burly coachman jumping down from the driver's box to open the door.

"Come."

Lindsay didn't tarry when Jared took her by the elbow
and hastened her to the coach, his one simple word making her feel as
wondrously elated as she had last night when she had waltzed in his arms. He
hadn't forgotten after all! She scarcely set a foot upon the steps when she
felt his strong hands encircle her waist to lift her inside, her face growing
warm with pleasure that he would be so gentlemanly. A few low words were spoken
to the coachman and then Jared joined her, settling into the empty space beside
her as the carriage jolted into motion.

"I thought we might drive around the city."

"Oh, yes, that would be lovely!" Lindsay knew
she was grinning like an utter fool, but she couldn't help herself. An
adventure at last! With a man who must know London inside and out, a true hero
of the realm! Her imagination whirling as fast as the spokes of the carriage
wheels, she paid little heed when Jared pulled a soft plaid blanket from the
opposite seat and draped it over their legs.

"It's a damp night. I don't want you to be cold."

"Oh, it could be freezing, truly, and I doubt I'd
even notice. I've so wanted to see more of London ever since I arrived here."

"When was that?"

"Just over three weeks ago. That's why I'm
surprised I'd never seen you before—at any of the balls I attended. Twelve, to
be exact—well, eleven if we don't count last night."

Oh, dear, she was uttering nonsense again, Lindsay
thought when Jared didn't readily answer, his handsome face half cloaked in
shadow. But her excitement was so great she could barely contain herself, and
she decided then and there she wasn't going to worry how she might or might not
appear.

She had considered, since the
Oglethorpes
'
ball, that it might be rash to sneak out of the house and
meet a gentleman she hardly knew, a notorious rake, no less, if she believed
even an ounce of what Aunt Winifred had had to say—which
she did not.
More likely, jealous tongues had created false rumors about so daring and
valiant a man. And how else would Jared discover that he had found a perfect
match for himself if she didn't demonstrate that she could be as bold and
fearlessly adventurous as he?

"Tell me about London, please," she blurted,
glancing excitedly out the window. "You must know everything about
it—certainly more than Mayfair. That's all I've seen and scarcely much of it,
since poor Aunt Winnie is so determined to obey Olympia's demands to the
letter."

"Olympia?"

Even hearing the woman's name on Jared's lips made
Lindsay wish she hadn't mentioned it. "My stepmother, Lady Somerset. She
gave strict instructions that I was to attend balls and little else, no trips
to the theater or pleasure gardens,
no
visits to Hyde
Park—"

"We're passing Hyde Park right now. It's dark, but
if you'd like, I'll have the driver—"

"Could we?" Lindsay craned her neck to get a
glimpse of the broad expanse of green beyond the gaslights along the way,
elated that Jared had seemed to read her mind. "At least then I can say I've
been there. Then could we pass by Covent Garden, and afterward maybe Vauxhall
Gardens?" She felt breathless as she settled back in the seat and pushed
her damp hood off her hair. "And you must tell me everything about what we
see along the way, will you? And about the places you've traveled? It must be
so exciting to be a spy—oh, but I'm not asking that you tell me any military
secrets. I've just never been anywhere else but Cornwall, and it's so wonderful
that you agreed to meet me tonight and show me the city . . ."

Lindsay suddenly fell still, realizing as heat crept up
her face that Jared was studying her intently, his expression the strangest mix
of bewilderment and irritation.

"I-I'm sorry. Did I say something to offend?"

Offend? Jared knew he was staring at her like a
simpleton, but suddenly he felt like a blind fool.

Damnation, if she hadn't said as much, then
he
would have been the one likely to
offend—a bloody virgin's honor, no less! Muttering an oath, he yanked the
blanket from across their laps and flung it upon the opposite seat, and would
have followed himself if not for the hand suddenly at his arm.

"Jared? Have I done something wrong?"

"No, Miss Somerset, you haven't, but I damned well
have." He leaned forward and rapped on the front shell of the carriage. "Back
to Piccadilly, man! And make haste!"

"Back to Piccadilly?"

He heard the disappointment in her voice but said
nothing, his own displeasure more akin to utter frustration as he shoved all
thoughts of seduction from his mind.

How could he have so misread the chit? Sitting rigidly
beside her, he glanced at her lovely face and felt another raw stab of regret
for his foiled plans.

Big blue eyes stared at him in confusion; a silken
tendril of white-blond hair loosened from its comb and brushed against a
flawless cheek that he had ached to touch, the tip of her tongue running
uncertainly across tempting red lips that he had fully intended to ravage and
kiss. But that was before he had realized—as if a doubled fist had slammed into
his jaw—that Miss Lindsay Somerset was no cunning wanton accustomed to enticing
men, but a young woman both reckless and dangerously naïve.

"Jared—Lord Giles, please.
Don't
take me back to my aunt's, not yet!
I can't imagine what could have
brought on your sudden change of heart, but I can assure you, no one knows I'm
here. I'm very good at sneaking out of houses—I did it all the time in
Porthleven
—"

"Ah, so this is a common thing for you?"
Jared had spoken sharply and he felt another pang of regret, Lindsay's face
growing pink with consternation. But the careless wench had to realize the
danger in which she had placed herself, her wide-eyed innocence suddenly
reminding him so vividly of Elise . . .

"N-not common so much as a necessity, truly.
Olympia didn't like that I spent so much time with my friend
Corie
—she didn't like
Corisande
Easton at all, or her father and three sisters, for that matter, so what could
I do? And, of course, late at night, I couldn't simply announce that I was
leaving and then skip out the front door. Everyone had to be sleeping first,
and then I would climb out my window and down the elm tree—"

"So you're accustomed to being about when most
young ladies are tucked safely in their beds? That might have caused you no ill
effect in a village in bloody Cornwall, but traipsing about alone at night in
London is another—
"

"But I'm not alone, Jared. I'm with you."

Jared grimaced, Lindsay's simple statement hitting him
like a blow to the stomach.

Yes, so she was with him, and if she knew how closely
she had come to . . .

Shaking his head, he glanced out the window and
realized Hyde Park was fading from sight behind them, the very place where he
had hoped to indulge himself in Lindsay Somerset's obvious charms.

He was no saint, but he was no ravager of innocents,
either, no matter his soiled reputation. But how many other "proper"
gentlemen with spotless reputations would have turned the coach around if in
the company of such a tempting companion? And perhaps an heiress to boot, given
Lord Ambrose Lamb's ardent pursuit—that spendthrift family making no secret of
its need to refill empty pockets in exchange for a lofty title—which made her
all the more vulnerable to masculine birds of prey. Not many,
dammit
, which caused his gut to knot.

If he didn't indulge her insatiable curiosity about
London, no doubt she'd find another man more willing, which made Jared once
again think of Elise. His beautiful, trusting, younger sister, so vivacious and
full of life and its bright promise before she was laid waste by

"Enough!" Jared bit off to himself, doubting
a razor twisting in his belly could give him more pain.

"Jared?"

The small voice, hopeful yet uncertain, was like a
poignant echo calling to him from the past. He met Lindsay's lovely eyes,
deciding then and there he must teach her not to entrust herself so completely
to a man she didn't know. It was time he could ill afford, a night's easy
seduction all he had originally had in mind, but for that very reason he
resolved to somehow impress upon her that she must take care and guard herself
against not only ruthless fortune hunters, but notorious rakes as well . . . if
not for her sake, at the very least for the memory of his sister.

"Driver, to Covent Garden!" His shout clearly
startling his delectable companion as Lindsay jumped in her seat, Jared
nonetheless was amazed at how quickly a brilliant smile overcame her look of
astonishment. He smiled, too, trying to ignore the unsettling effect her
transformation had upon him. "Forgive my odd behavior; you're absolutely
right. I was struck for a moment about your reputation—how things might look to
have you out so late, but, of course, you couldn't be in safer hands than mine."

"So you're going to show me London? Truly?"

Finding it difficult to fathom that she wasn't as
concerned about her reputation as he professed to be, Jared suppressed a frown
and nodded. "As much as you wish to see—with the thought, of course, that
we must have you home well before dawn."

"Oh, this is wonderful!"

It was Jared's turn to be startled as Lindsay threw her
arms around his neck and hugged him, but she pulled away quickly as if
embarrassed, although her happily glowing face gave no sign of it.

"I've so wanted to see Covent Garden. But isn't it
a bit late for a performance?"

"Upon the stage, yes, but I thought you might
enjoy visiting another place that's very close to the theater . . . a favorite
place of mine."

"Lovely! Anything you enjoy I'm sure I will, too."

Jared couldn't help smiling grimly at Lindsay's utter
faith in him; it was easy to imagine the shocked look on her face that was
certain to come once they had arrived at their destination. By the end of their
time together, he imagined she would be more than glad to remain snuggled
safely in her bed, rather than sneaking out at night to partake in the side of
London he intended to show her.

"Does this place have a name?"

His grim smile only deepened. "Oh, yes. Tom's."

Chapter 5

"Look at the carriages, dozens of them!" Lindsay
eagerly accepted Jared's assistance as she descended from the coach, excitement
bubbling inside her. "And surely it's past one o'clock. I would never have
thought so many people—"