A Lady by Midnight (Spindle Cove #3)(11)
Author: Tessa Dare

He’d all but snapped her finger off.

So mortifying. How could she have misread his intentions so completely? She should have refused his offer of a ride home and spent the night singing for pennies in the Hastings streets instead. It would have been less degrading.

I don’t feel a damned thing for you.

The only consolation was that he’d be leaving Spindle Cove in a matter of weeks, and she need never speak to him again.

Erasing him from her thoughts would be a more difficult trick. No matter how long she lived, this man would always be her first kiss. Or worse, her only kiss.

The cruel, teasing ogre.

Eventually they reached familiar bends in the road. The scattered amber lights of the village appeared on the horizon, just below the silvery stars.

Kate had a quiet laugh at her own expense. She’d left the village early this morning with a heart full of foolish hopes and dreams. Tonight, she returned with her spine wilted from six kinds of humiliation and her arms full of mongrel dog.

“If you’re still taking suggestions, I’d name him Badger,” she said when the silence became too much. “It suits him, I think. He’s all nose and teeth and tussle.”

His reply was a long time in coming. “Call the pup whatever you wish.”

She bent her head and nuzzled the dog’s fur. “Badger,” she whispered, worrying the soft flap of his ear, “you’d never spurn my kisses, would you?”

The pup licked her fingertip. She blinked away a silly tear.

As they neared the church and the heart of the village, she looked to the Queen’s Ruby. Lights burned in nearly every window. The sight kindled a warm glow in her heart. Badger’s tail began to wag, as if he sensed the lift in her spirits. She did have friends, and they were waiting up for her.

Thorne helped her dismount and loosed the horse to graze on the village green.

“Do you plan to come in and eat something?” she asked.

He shrugged back into his coat. “That’s a bad idea. You know there’s talk about me. I’m bringing you home well after dark. Your frock’s torn, and your hair’s a shambles.”

She cringed at the blow to what remained of her vanity. “My hair is a shambles? Since when? You might have said something.”

Tucking Badger under one arm, she plucked at her hairpins with her free hand. His concern for appearances wasn’t unfounded. Small villages were buzzing hives of gossip. She knew she must keep her reputation unsoiled if she wanted to continue living in the Queen’s Ruby and tutoring the gently bred ladies who summered there.

“Just give the dog here, Miss Taylor, and I’ll be on my way.”

In an instinctive reaction, she hugged the puppy close to her chest. “No. No, I don’t think I will.”

“What?”

“We get along, he and I. So I’m going to keep him. I believe he’d be happier that way.”

The severity of his frown seemed to slice through the darkness. “You can’t keep a puppy in a rooming house. Your landlady won’t allow it, and even if she would—a dog like that needs space to run.”

“He also needs love. Affection, Corporal Thorne. Are you telling me you can provide it?” She playfully tugged at Badger’s scruff. “Tell me right now that you love this dog, and I will return the pup at once.”

He didn’t answer her.

“Four little words,” she taunted. “ ‘I . . . love . . . the . . . dog.’ And he’s yours.”

“I own the dog,” he said tersely. “He is mine. I paid coin for him.”

“Then I’ll pay you back. But I will not surrender this sweet, defenseless little creature to a man with no feeling, no heart. No capacity to care.”

Just then the front door of the Queen’s Ruby burst open.

Mrs. Nichols came running out from the inn—as much as the poor old dear could run. Her hands were flapping. “Miss Taylor! Miss Taylor, oh, thank goodness you’re here at last.”

“I’m so sorry to have worried you, Mrs. Nichols. I missed the stagecoach home, and Corporal Thorne was good enough to—”

“We’ve been waiting and waiting.” The older woman put her arm through Kate’s and pulled her toward the door. “Your visitors have been here for hours. I’ve run through three pots of tea, exhausted all possible topics of conversation.”

“Visitors?” Kate was stunned. “I have visitors?”

Mrs. Nichols gathered her shawl about her shoulders. “Four of them.”

“Four of them? Whatever do they want?”

“They won’t say. Except that they’ve insisted on waiting for you. It’s been hours now.”

Kate paused in the threshold, scraping the mud from the soles of her boots. She couldn’t imagine who these visitors might be. Perhaps a family seeking music lessons. But at this hour of night? “I’m so sorry I’ve put you to such trouble.”

“Not a trouble, dear. It’s an honor to have a man of such rank and stature in my parlor.”

A man? Of rank and stature?

“Might I just nip upstairs and see to my appearance first? I’m all mussed from the road.”

“No, no. That won’t do, my dear.” The inn’s landlady tugged her inside. “One can only keep a marquess waiting so long.”

“A marquess?”

While Mrs. Nichols closed the door, Kate turned to catch her reflection in the looking glass. She jumped in her skin when she found herself nose-to-button with Corporal Thorne instead.

“I thought you weren’t coming in,” she accused his lapel.

“I changed my mind.” When she finally dared look up, she found his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He asked, “Do you know any marquess?”

She shook her head. “The highest-ranking man I know is Lord Rycliff, and he’s an earl.”

“I’ll go in with you.”

“I’m sure that’s not necessary. It’s a parlor, not a crime den.”

“I’ll go anyway.”

Before they could argue it further, Kate found herself being hustled into the parlor. Thorne followed close behind. Several of the rooming-house guests lined the corridor. They gave her wide-eyed, speculative glances as she moved past.

When they reached the parlor, Mrs. Nichols pushed Kate through the door. “Here’s Miss Taylor at last, my lord and ladies.”

With that, the landlady shut them in. Kate could hear her on the other side of the door, chasing the residents away from the corridor.