Lee's own temper heated. "Why were you following me? What did you think you were doing?"
Hard brown eyes locked on her face. "I thought you were a thief."
"A thief!"
"That's right. When I went into the barn, the gray was missing. I saw you riding away, roaring over the fields like a Bedlamite, and I thought you were trying to steal him."
She could feel his eyes on her, taking in her clean, unmade-up face, the freckles across her nose that rice powder usually covered, the pinkness of her unrouged lips and the heightened color in her cheeks.
Something shifted in his features and some of the harshness eased from his expression. "I thought you were a boy."
She hoisted her chin, wishing she could grow about a foot, just for a moment or two. "Well, I'm not a thief and I'm not a boy."
His gaze moved down her body, taking in the breeches that fit so snugly over her legs and rump. His mouth curved into an insolent smile and she knew he was thinking of the way she had looked draped over his thighs and the stinging blows he had delivered to her bottom. "So I noticed."
More color washed into her face. She couldn't imagine how he managed to do that, when no other male seemed able. "The horse is mine to do with as I please, just like all of the animals in the stable. I ride every morning and I shall continue to do so whether that meets with your approval or not."
He made a slight bow of his head, but the mocking glint in his eyes remained. "Whatever you say, Miss Durant."
"I won't stand for insolence from the men I employ. I ought to dismiss you for what you did." His expression remained inscrutable, but she thought she caught a hint of uneasiness in his eyes.
"I didn't want to lose the horse," he said.
"I gathered that." She sighed. "I'll admit it seems unfair to dismiss a man for doing his job, perhaps even putting himself at risk to do it. If I had been a thief, you could have been injured or even killed."
He looked into her face. "And I suppose you would have cared."
Lee forced herself not to glance away from those dark, probing eyes. "Of course I would have cared. As long as you're working at Parklands, you're my responsibility. I do, however, expect an apology. There was hardly a need to manhandle me the way you did."
The tension eased from his shoulders and a corner of his mouth edged up. His eyes looked warmer, a rich chocolate brown circled by a fringe of thick black lashes. "I assure you, Miss Durant, had I known you were a woman, I would have restrained myself. Dressed as you are, I don't think you can fault my assumptions. You're lucky your hat flew off. If it hadn't, I might have given you the thrashing I intended to give the thief."
Her bottom still burned from the blows he had delivered and his impudent smile said he knew. "If that is your idea of an apology, Mr. Tanner, perhaps you had better find employment—"
"I'm sorry. You're right, I should have been more careful. I should have checked to be sure the boy I thought was stealing a valuable horse wasn't the mistress of the house dressed up like a man."
Irritation bubbled through her. It occurred to her the man was amazingly well-spoken for a groom and she wondered vaguely where he might have come from. Wherever it was, he could return, for all she cared. Let him find another job somewhere far distant from Parklands.
"This discussion is over, Mr. Tanner. You may pick up your things when you get back to the barn." Lee turned to reach for Coeur's reins, intending to swing up on his back and ride away. She didn't need a surly head groom. Even if he was one of the best horse handlers she had ever seen, she would manage somehow without him.
Tanner caught her wrist. His hand felt big and warm and a tingle of awareness went through her. "I need this job, Miss Durant. I promise I won't interfere with your riding again."
Lee sighed. She didn't like the man, but he was good at his job. And with Jacob gone, she really did need him. "All right, I suppose that will have to do."
Caleb Tanner smiled and something warm slid into her stomach.
"Thank you for letting me stay," he said. Reaching toward the gray, he caught Coeur's reins and handed them over. "You're a very good rider, by the way. You and the horse performed extremely well together."
"Thank you." She found herself smiling at the compliment and realized it wasn't the usual pasted-on sort but actually sincere. "I enjoyed the chase… all but the end."
His mouth twitched. His lips had a sensuous curve she had noticed the first time she saw him.
"If that is the case," he said, "perhaps I could join you some morning. Maybe you could give me some pointers, help me improve my seat."
As if he needed any help. They both knew he was every bit as competent a rider as she, maybe better.
"Perhaps I could," she said loftily, just to annoy him. Reaching out to catch the reins, she waited while Tanner cupped his hands, then placed her knee in his locked palms and allowed him to lift her up onto the horse. "Good day, Mr. Tanner."
"Good day, Miss Durant."
And then she reined away, she and Coeur running like fire back toward the stable, wishing she didn't have to go, that she could stay outside in the sun and the fresh spring air.
That she didn't have to return to the house and once more become Vermillion.
Caleb watched the girl ride away. He still couldn't believe the fresh-faced young woman he had pulled off the gray was the infamous courtesan Vermillion. Without her face paint, she didn't look nearly as sophisticated as she had through the windows of the house last night, nor nearly as stunningly beautiful. Without the kohl beneath her eyes, they weren't the same too-bold blue-green, nor half as seductive as they had seemed.
She looked young and fresh and innocent. She looked sweet and lovely—and infinitely appealing. If he didn't know who she was, if he didn't suspect she might be involved in selling information to the French, he would have found himself completely enthralled.
As it was, as he rode at a distance behind her back to the stable, he found himself wondering about her, wondering at the life she had chosen, at the men she invited into her bed.
By the time he arrived at the stable, he expected to find her gone. Instead, she was there in the stall with the gray, brushing the horse's dappled coat to a brilliant sheen and currying its mane.
Caleb stepped up behind her, took the currycomb from her hand. She smelled of soap and horses, but he caught the faint whiff of rosewater. She had replaited her hair, he noticed, but the image remained of the way it looked tumbled free, in a riot of fiery curls around her shoulders.
"I'll take care of the horse," he said. "That's what I get paid for."
"Thank you, but I enjoy it." She retrieved the comb from his hand and started pulling it through the animal's mane. Standing behind her, he could feel the warmth of her body and his loins began to fill. He was hard by the time he stepped away, grateful when Arlie Spooner's head appeared over the top of the stall.
"Beg pardon, Miss Lee. Your aunt's askin' after ye, wantin' ta know when ye'll be comin' back ta the house."
Vermillion made a sound that might have been a sigh of regret. "Tell her I'll only be a few more minutes."
"Aye, Miss." Arlie tottered away in his slow, shuffling gait, his back hunched over, making him a full foot shorter than Caleb.
"Why does he call you that?" Caleb asked. "Why does he call you Lee?"
The currycomb paused. "Lee is my middle name. It's the name I prefer. It's what my friends call me."
"And Arlie Spooner is your friend?"
She looked up at him from the shadows of the barn and even without the kohl her eyes were the color of aquamarines. "Of course. Arlie has worked at Parklands since I was a little girl. He loves horses as much as I do. I consider him a very dear friend."
Caleb frowned. She was Vermillion, a seductress, a power-hungry female who took countless lovers and tossed them away like tattered clothes. She wasn't supposed to love horses and claim servants as her friends.