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Baling House, Westchester
“Lacey, my dear, if you will not go out to meet Lord Exter, I will have every book removed from your room and given away.”
Lacey Welton frowned at her mother in dismay. From her mountain of pillows, Lady Welton only stared at her with an implacable determination.
“Mother, you cannot be serious!”
“Oh, but I am, my girl. I have had enough of your nonsense. You will go put on a proper frock, and you will be as charming as you can with Lord Exter. I am growing old and sick, and I will not allow my title to revert to the Crown. I will see you married.”
Constance Welton's eyes were like chips of flint, and finally, the way she knew she always would, Lacey lowered her gaze.
“Yes, Mother.”
In her own room, the curvaceous blonde was far more spirited. As she allowed the maid to do up the buttons of her new pale green silk gown, she swore at her father for dying, at her mother for being so very pig-headed about her title, at Lord Exter just for being there, and at herself for putting up with it.
Her murmurings only lasted as long as it took to meet Davis Windley, Lord Exter, in the drawing room. She offered him a weak smile and her hand, which he took with a kind of ardent interest that made her feel strange.
“My dear Miss Lacey. Every day, you grow more beautiful.”
Lacey waved inanely at his words. “Oh. Um. Thank you. I was told, that is, you said you were interested in a walk? Mrs. Naylor here said she would chaperon us, if you don't mind.”
“Not at all! Come, let us partake of the countryside.”
Mrs. Naylor was her mother's companion, a prim and proper iron poker of a woman who never gave anything away at all. She walked decorously beside Lacey, but unfortunately, she could not take Davis’ arm for her.
The three of them walked out along the north garden path, down among the willow trees that dipped over the creek that crossed the property. It was a gorgeous summer day, and Lacey was just beginning to relax when Mrs. Naylor made a show of patting her embroidered muslin bag.
“Oh, my goodness, Lord Exter, Miss Lacey. I have forgotten my embroidery. I meant to bring it. I shall fetch it now.”
“Mrs. Naylor!” Lacey started after her chaperon, who was already walking with brisk steps back to the house. Before she could go very far, however, Davis’ grip on her arm tightened.
“Oh, there's nothing to be worried about, is there? She will return soon enough. It occurs to me that the best thing we can do is to sit and wait for her, don't you think?”
Lacey did not think that at all, but she smiled a puny little smile at him and followed.
She knew in her heart that her mother was right. The title of Countess of Baling was one that her mother had inherited, rather than being granted through marriage. It was as much a part of Constance Welton as her iron-gray hair and her sparkling dark eyes. It could, however, only be passed on to a male heir or a married female heir, as per the terms of her entail, and Constance had only grown more worried about the lineage with every passing month.
Which was why Lacey was allowing herself to be settled on a mossy bank protected by the overhanging fronds of the willow tree. She supposed it was meant to be a rather idyllic spot, but there was something off-putting to it about her.
Davis came to sit next to her, and it struck her all over again that he was a handsome man. He was blonder than she was and pale but broad through the shoulder and possessed of impeccable manners. Her mother was enthralled when he came to call. Lacey wasn't sure why she herself wasn't.
“It's a very beautiful day, isn't it, Miss Lacey?”
“It is, at that, my lord. Thank you for inviting me on this walk with you.”
“It is very much my pleasure. Being with you here at Baling House is one of the greatest honors that I could ever in all my life imagine.”
Then perhaps your life has been rather sheltered?
She was trying to find a gentle rejoinder that would not once again lead to her great beauty, but to her surprise, Davis took her hand in his.
“Seeing you like this has awakened something in me that I would normally keep leashed.”
“Er, well, perhaps you ought to keep it... leashed... then?”
Before she could even rightfully figure out what he was saying, he kissed her hand. This was no dry peck for custom's sake. Instead, it was a wet kiss that made her feel rather as if a goat had licked her hand, and then he kept doing it.
Davis kissed his way up her hand, leaving what felt like a trail of drool, and Lacey felt as if she wanted to crawl out of her skin just to get away. Where in the world was Mrs. Naylor?
“My lord, please, I understand the compliment you would pay me, but please, this is not—”
“I want you like the sun wants the moon, like the leaf wants the tree. Here, simply relax, and allow me to do what we both want.”
“My lord, we absolutely do not both want... oh, my God.”
His free hand came to rest on her wide hip, sending a shiver of utter revulsion through her, and Lacey sprang to her feet.
“I am going home!”
“Surely, there is no need. Mrs. Naylor is returning soon, and there are so few of these sweet moments available to us.”
She wasn't sure what she could say next, but then he reached for her again, and her course was decided. Lacey had never reckoned herself a particularly strong girl, but panic and disgust lent her strength. With one mighty push, she sent Davis into the stream, and as he yowled for help, she dashed not toward Baling House but, instead, to the road.
Lacey was so panicked by the incident that she almost ran face first into the chest of a blood bay mare on the road. The mare shied away from her with a snort, and she realized that the man atop the mare was applauding her with a wide grin on his face.
“Well done, lass! I've not seen such a neat bit of farce since I was last on Drury Lane.”
She looked up at him wildly. The stranger was lean and athletic with dark brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. He lounged in the saddle as if he were born to sit on a horse, and he was handsome, almost blindingly so. She took that all in at a glance, but there was something inside her that said something else. It said safe. It said help me.
She had been silent long enough that the stranger was starting to look worried.
“Lass, are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“Please. Get me out of here.”
Lacey reached her hand up to him, realizing even as she did so that she had no idea what might happen if he refused or if he accepted.
Without a moment of thought, however, he pulled her up behind him on the mare's broad back, settling her behind his saddle and pulling her arms around his waist.
“Where to?”
“Anywhere. Away from here. Please.”
He didn't wait for another word. With a nudge of his heel, the blood bay mare sprang forward into a brisk trot, and they left Davis, her mother, and Baling House behind.