Proof by Seduction (Carhart #1)

Jenny looked skeptically around the flattish meadow. “Deer? I think they’d pull down the horses. Or you.”


Ned shook his head happily and pulled on the reins. The horses halted. They’d stopped outside a small cottage. In the distance, two large barns loomed. Jenny supposed a barn was as good a place as any to keep a lion’s cage. But at the thought of those great beasts, the hairs on the back of her neck twitched. At any moment, she could be bowled over by some large, stalking cat.

“Here,” Ned said, handing her a basket. “Go set up behind the cottage while I see to the horses.”

“By myself?”

“Yes, by yourself.”

“Near the lions?”

Ned grinned as he unhitched the horses. “Near the caged lions, yes. You’re not afraid, are you? You’d better rethink your travel plans. I hear that lions roam the wilds of Cincinnati with surprising regularity.”

Jenny took the basket and walked. She’d miss Ned. She was going to miss England—dreary, clouded England. It was all she’d ever known.

And she already missed Gareth.

But, she mused, what she missed in him wasn’t just his presence. It was his potential. Those rare moments when he smiled. When he stopped using Lord Blakely as a tool to smite the mere mortals who incurred his wrath. If he’d been a farmer in Cincinnati or a tradesman in Brazil…

Jenny shook her head free of all foolish thoughts and set the basket down behind the small cottage.

A thick blanket covered the provisions in the basket. She was laying it on the ground when she heard the sound behind her. Quiet and careful; prowling. Her shoulder blades itched, as if it really were a lion she heard behind her, instead of a man’s steps.

She turned, slowly, and swallowed.

She’d prefer the lion. She’d rather sharp claws rip into her than feel this pain slam inside her once again. Just looking at Gareth, she remembered what he’d said. Who would think you my equal? Those hurtful words were still embedded in her, like bits of shrapnel no surgeon could remove.

Well, he didn’t look so superior now. What he looked was miserable.

And ridiculously handsome, his sandy brown hair tousled, his cravat askew. A blue bruise decorated his jaw. And there were his eyes—that startling golden brown. He could well have been a large predator, so intent was his gaze on her. She could have been his prey, so much did she want to give in to him.

“Ned,” Jenny said. “Ned is responsible for this. I will shake him.”

He winced. “I convinced Ned to give me one last chance. I know you won’t give me one—you have every reason to despise me. But—listen—just—” He broke off and fumbled in his pockets. He pulled out a sheet of crinkled paper and handed it to her. “There.”

Jenny smoothed out the crumpled wad. “What is this?”

“Title,” he said, “to what’s inside the barn.”

“I already told you, you can’t buy me.”

His eyes raised to hers. “I know,” he said softly. “There isn’t enough money in all the world. But I’m begging you to let me—let me—” He scowled and scuffed his feet.

Jenny’s stomach turned over very slowly. Her toes curled inside her slippers.

“Just go inside,” he whispered.

She crossed the cropped grass and pulled open the heavy door. It creaked and sent a cloud of dust, woody with a hint of mold, whooshing around her. When she stepped inside, the temperature of the air dropped ten degrees. The familiar odor of clean hay met her. But there was a smell unlike anything she’d ever experienced. A whiff of acidity touched her nose, followed by a sweet, warm scent. Lions?

No.

There were no heavy iron cages. But nor was the barn divided into efficient cow-size rectangles. Instead, all the barn was open; one giant hayrick lay in the middle. And there, next to that golden pile, placidly munching hay, it stood.

Large and gray. Floppy ears wiggled in languid pleasure, as its trunk leisurely brought another bite of hay into its ivory-tusked mouth. It rolled its eyes when Jenny entered, but made no further movements.

Jenny was shocked into silence. Gareth came up behind her. Her heart was racing, a faint pitter-patter.

“What,” Jenny asked steadily, “am I going to do with an elephant?”

“I don’t know,” said Gareth. “What are you planning to do with all my points?”

Points? It took Jenny a moment to remember what he was talking about. Points, when he smiled. She turned around slowly and put her hands on her hips.

“Your points? Those are my points. I earned them. You can’t have them.”

Gareth scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Bollocks. I had to smile very hard for every single one of them. And if you don’t take this elephant and marry me, I swear to God you’ll never get another point again.”

Jenny’s world froze. Outside, she could hear the clear voice of a blackbird singing. It was overwhelmed by the ringing in her ears. She turned to Gareth slowly.