"What's the matter? You look like you lost your best friend."
She turned at the sound of Caleb Tanner's deep voice, looked up at him and sighed. "One of them, at any rate." She told him about Mary and the house in Buford Street, explained that the girl was five months gone with child, and that she had disappeared. Why she confided in Caleb she couldn't say, but she felt better once she had.
"I'm so worried about her. I wish I knew for certain that she is safe."
"You say the girl was a chambermaid here at Parklands?"
"Yes. That is how she met Freddie Hully, the boy who fathered her babe. He worked for the blacksmith in the village."
"What do you think could have happened to her?"
There was something in his tone that made her glance up at him. "I don't know. She had very little money. I can't imagine why she would have gone off the way she did."
"Perhaps Freddie came back and she simply ran away with him."
Lee pondered that, a thought that had also occurred to her. "I suppose it's possible." She gazed off toward the horses galloping across the field. The little sand-colored colt she called Loch kicked up its heels, then sprinted like fury across the meadow.
"Perhaps we'll hear from her," Lee said, her thoughts still on Mary. "I suppose it doesn't do the least bit of good to worry."
"No, not the least. Why don't I saddle Grand Coeur for you? A nice long ride ought to help clear your head."
"Yes, that's what I was hoping when I came out here."
His eyes remained on her face. "Perhaps today I could join you."
Even from a distance, she could see the hunger in his eyes, the heat he made no attempt to hide. She knew what he wanted. He had made himself more than clear. But she wasn't afraid of him and she was tired and worried and riding with Caleb would certainly turn her thoughts away from poor Mary.
"All right. I would be pleased if you would join me."
Caleb walked into the shadows of the barn, thinking of Vermillion and the invitation he had just received. She knew he wanted her. His imagination conjured images of her lush breasts and small waist, and how it would feel to have her naked and writhing beneath him. Desire for her clenched in his loins and he went painfully hard.
Caleb ignored a sweep of lust and forced the images away. He had other, more important matters to consider and he would do well to remember that. He thought of the woman, Mary Goodhouse, one of those he had seen through the window the day he had journeyed to London.
Had something really happened to the girl? Or had she simply slipped away with the lad who had got her with child?
Caleb thought of the secrets his superiors believed were being collected at Parklands and passed to the French. The girl had worked here as a chambermaid. Could there be some connection to her sudden disappearance? Tonight, he would send word of the missing girl to Colonel Cox through the contact that had been set up for him in the village. A silversmith named Cyrus Swift would see it done.
Caleb tightened the cinch of Lee's sidesaddle and checked the stirrup. In the meantime, Vermillion had invited him to accompany her. He went hard again and shifted to relieve the pressure against the front of his breeches.
His arousal remained as he finished saddling Grand Coeur and set to work on the bay, brushing the animal's coat, then setting the flat-seated saddle in place. Coeur nickered softly as he led both animals out into the courtyard.
The sun shone brightly overhead and thick white clouds floated in an azure sky. With the fields turned a brilliant emerald green and the trees leafed out along the hedgerows, it was the perfect day for riding.
The perfect afternoon for seduction.
Caleb lifted Vermillion into the sidesaddle, letting his hands linger at her waist, letting her see the desire in his eyes, making her wonder at his intentions. His heart was beating faster but so was hers—he could see the rapid flutter in the hollow at the base of her throat.
Since the morning in the stable when he had kissed her, every time he watched her ride out across the fields, it was all he could do not to follow. He knew she wanted him. Whenever they were together, the air around them seemed hotter, the distance between them smoldered with heat.
He couldn't help wondering, once they had reached the shelter of the trees, how she would respond if he dragged her down from her horse and into his arms, if he kissed her with the same unleashed passion he had shown her before.
Caleb cast her a glance that took in the heightened color of her cheeks. He meant to find out exactly what the lady would do and now seemed exactly the time. In the morning he would be off to Newmarket, there for the racing meet. Tonight he would send word of Mary's disappearance to Colonel Cox. In the meantime, seducing Vermillion into an afternoon's pleasure occupied the majority of his thoughts.
She looked over at him and smiled, and he thought that she looked almost shy. "I'm ready if you are."
It was a ruse, he knew, and yet he found her feigned innocence appealing. He nodded, thinking how pretty she looked in her cinnamon-colored riding skirt.
Wanting her.
Thinking that today he meant to have her.
She hadn't bothered putting her hair up today, just left it loose down her back and swept it up on the sides with small, tortoiseshell combs. Ruby strands teased his cheek as he lifted her into the sidesaddle and the pressure in his groin grew more painful. Wondering if she had noticed his obvious arousal, he walked over to the bay, shoved his boot into the metal stirrup, and swung up on the horse's back.
"Let's ride toward the north end of the field," he said. Toward the old shepherd's cabin. The building was a ruin, he had recently discovered, too far gone to serve his purpose, but there was a tiny secluded meadow just beyond the cabin that perfectly fit his plans.
"All right." Vermillion rode out first and Caleb followed, enjoying the sight of her mounted on the gray, admiring her control of the horse. She was a splendid rider. He smiled to think he intended to put the talent to a far more intimate use.
Ahead of him, Vermillion set a leisurely pace, taking a hedgerow here and there, guiding Grand Coeur over a stream with ease. When she started to turn in the wrong direction, he moved a little in front of her, blocking the way, turning them casually toward the place he had in mind.
"Let's go this way," he said and she smiled and followed.
It didn't take long to reach the shepherd's cabin. Vermillion rode on past and so did he. As soon as they reached the meadow, he drew rein on the bay and whirled the horse to face her.
"Why don't we give them a rest? It looks as if there's a spring just over there." He pointed in that direction. "And there's grass enough to keep them content."
"I could use a stretch myself."
He swung down from his mount, then swung her down off the sidesaddle, holding her a little closer than needed, letting her absorb the heat of him, letting her know what she did to his body. When a faint tremor ran through her, he let her go and walked away. Making his way back to his horse, he untied the blanket behind his saddle and drew two sets of hobbles out of the saddlebags. Placing a pair on each horse, he removed their headstalls, and sent them off to graze.
She watched him start walking toward her. He heard a little gasp of surprise as he tossed the blanket aside, reached out and hauled her into his arms. He didn't give her time to protest, just bent his head and took her lips. They were soft as silk, smooth and sweet as honey, and beneath his determined assault, he thought that they trembled.
It was a clever act, one he was beginning to enjoy. He teased the corners of her mouth, coaxing her to open for him, then took her deeply with his tongue. He'd been hard off and on all day, his groin heavy with need and pulsing with heat, his blood running thick and hot.