"Are you crazy? She doesn't even know the mean-ing of the word."
"Then she's too arrogant for you? I should have known, her being a duchess and all."
"She's no more arrogant than you are," he re-torted.
"Well, I'm not arrogant, so it must be she's mean-spirited. I never would have guessed."
"Cut it out, Jessie," he hissed. "There isn't a mean bone in her body."
"Then it must be her looks. And here I thought you didn't mind all that ugly red hair."
"Chase should have wrung your neck the last time he threatened to."
"What'd I say?" she asked innocently.
He chuckled then, and caught her about the waist to give her a hard hug. "You've made your point, sister. I guess I can't lose anything by asking."
Jessie stepped back, wrinkling her nose and wiping her hands on her pants. "Best take a bath first. You don't want her to swoon before she has a chance to answer you."
She barely got the last word out before she squealed and started running.
Chapter Forty-six
“You’re the first to know, dear. I've decided to get married."
Jocelyn swung around in surprise, nearly knocking the lamp off the table next to her. "Vana! You hardly know Mr. Harwell. He's only been calling on you this past week!"
The countess chuckled. "I'm surprised you even noticed, you've been moping around here so much."
"I have not!"
"Well, I don't know what else you might call it. But never mind. And I'm not marrying that nice Em-mett Harwell, though I do have him to thank for making my dear Robbie jealous enough to ask me."
"Robbie?"
"And why not?" the countess said defensively at Jocelyn's bemused look. "If you can fall in love with a man entirely unsuitable to your station—"
"The devil take my station! And I don't love him either!"
"Of course you don't, dear."
Jocelyn glared. Vanessa was blissfully unmoved by it. Jocelyn finally turned away with a sigh.
"It would be rather stupid of me to love a man who doesn't love me, wouldn't it?" she said in a small voice.
"Oh, definitely."(
Jocelyn glanced over her shoulder with another glare. "Why aren't you telling me he's too surly, mean-tempered, dangerous—"
"Because he can't be all that bad or you wouldn't love him."
"He's not, but if you haven't noticed, he hasn't come calling."
"You may have to do the calling yourself, dear. I understand he has an aversion to this ranch. His sister confided to me that he nearly died here some years ago — good Lord, sit down! What did I say?"
Jocelyn waved the countess off from trying to drag her to a chair. "I'm all right. It would have been nice if someone had told me, though. What horrid irony."
"What is?"
"That I should have purchased this place."
"Yes, well, you're not exactly going to remain here long, only until the spring. And besides, he may want you to live up in the mountains with him, in his rustic little cabin."
"I wouldn't mind."
The countess made a face, for she had merely been trying to bring some levity to the conversation. "Let's not overdo it with the old 'sacrifice for the sake of love' rubbish. Let him do the sacrificing and get used to the finer things in life."
"I would love to, but you keep overlooking the small matter of his absence. He hasn't tried to see me because he doesn't want to."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that, dear. According to his sister—"
"Oh, please, Vana, not confidences from another sister. I thought you'd learned your lesson—"
"Don't be obtuse," the countess interrupted right back. "Jessica Summers is not a little liar like that Maura woman was." ' "Perhaps not, but she's still biased and—"
Jocelyn broke off at the sound of shouts coming from outside. She moved swiftly to the window. The sight of smoke pouring out of the new stable started her heart pumping in fear.
"What is it?" Vanessa asked.
Jocelyn was already turning and heading for the door. "There is a fire in the stable."
"Dear God — wait a minute!" The countess started hurrying to keep up with her. "You can't go out there.
Longnose could have started it to draw you out."
"Don't be ridiculous, Vana. It's still daylight. If he comes, it'll be after dark so he can slither in with the other night crawlers."
"You don't know—"
"Those are my horses, Vana!"
The countess didn't say another word after that, just followed Jocelyn outside. It might still be day-light, but only just, and the smoke belching from the long building added to the growing appearance of dusk.
Men were already leading horses out; others came charging out on their own. Their cries of fear were pitiful.
"Sir George?" Jocelyn asked the next man to come out of the wideopen doors.
"Red Rob's getting him, Your Grace."
"How bad is it?"
"The loft's caught already."
She panicked, hearing that. Sir George was going to be terrified, so much so that no one would be able to control him enough to get him out.
She was running inside before anyone thought to stop her. Smoke was rolling above her head in great waves, the smell of it so overwhelming the kerchief she held to her nose couldn't keep it out. She was coughing before she reached Sir George's large stall.
Robbie was indeed there, trying in vain to get hold of the stallion's mane to lead him out. Even as she watched, Sir George reared up with a scream and the Scot was knocked backward. Nor did Robbie get up immediately. He'd been struck hard on the shoulder.
"Are you all right, Robbie?"
"Good God, woman, what are you—"
"Not now!" she shouted as she tore off her blouse, the only thing handy, to wrap around the stallion's eyes. "If you'll get up and get on him, I'll have the three of us out of here in a trice."
She was already pulling herself up onto the animal's back, the horse having calmed somewhat at the sound of her voice and the total darkness. Robbie didn't hesitate to follow suit. Moments later, Sir George burst through the doors almost at a full gal-lop. Jocelyn managed to bring him about by using her blouse as substitute reins, no mean feat with her di-rections coming from the top of his head rather than from a bit at his mouth.
She hailed Sir Dudley. "The rest of the animals?"
"All accounted for, Your Grace."
She sagged back against Red Rob's wide chest, but caught herself almost instantly and straightened.
Si-multaneously, they both remembered the unorthodox way he had addressed her back in the stable.
The countess found them laughing when she approached.
"I'll have you know you scared the life out of me, and here you are having a good time."
Jocelyn sobered at that scolding, but not com-pletely. She was still grinning as she offered, "I'm sorry, Vana, but I had a feeling this great skittish beast wouldn't let anyone near him, and I was right. I believe your fiance's shoulder will need some immediate attention. You know Sir George is never gen-tle with his kicks."
The countess's temper turned to quick concern. "Is anything broken, darling?"
"Just dislocated, sweetheart. Nothing to worry about."
Jocelyn almost groaned, hearing them coo at each other. "I'll just give him a ride to the house, Vana, while you find someone to set his shoulder. I'm feeling a bit of a chill myself."
"And no wonder—"
Jocelyn didn't wait around for more scolding, embarrassment mounting at being caught out in no more than a skimpy white camisole to cover her chest. She nudged Sir George toward the house and left him there with Robbie as she ran up the stairs to repair her state of undress before she went out to inspect the rest of the animals for any injuries. But she didn't get back outside. Waiting in her room, casually reclining on her bed as if it belonged to him, was her nemesis, John Longnose.