Charming the Elusive Earl (Charmed By Chance #2)

Chapter 3

3

J ane reveled in her freedom.

The woods weren’t thick, and she didn’t dare venture onto the Earl’s property lest he see her when he returned to his home.

But she let her horse pick its way through the thin slice of trees and brush that separated their lawns, a smile curving her lips so wide her cheeks were starting to ache.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and her contented sigh filled the air, joining the sweet symphony of snapping twigs, birds chirping, and—hold on.

What was that?

Her eyes snapped open, and her body stiffened. Was that…another rider approaching?

It couldn’t be. No one had reason to come through these woods. Her brow furrowed as she looked to her left and right. Who else would be out here?

Her father was away, her aunt never went riding, and the Earl…

The Earl had surely returned home by now.

Hadn’t he?

Her heart began to gallop as she turned her mare in a circle, and the sound of another horse crashing through the brush grew closer.

It couldn’t be Marlin.

The Earl always took the road back to his estate. She knew this because she watched him leave after every visit. Every month for the past eight months, precisely fifteen minutes after his arrival, she’d watched him leave with a sense of overwhelming relief.

Through a slit in the curtains, she’d watched him every time. She could picture exactly how he strode toward his horse, the quick and easy way he mounted, and the path on which he rode.

Her breathing grew shallow and quick. But who else could it be?

Her mind drew a blank. The Earl was the only neighbor around, and no servant would have reason to be crashing through the wood.

There was no one else it could be. If he’d seen her…

If he caught her…

With a gasp she turned her horse and nudged it into a gallop. But the sound of the rider behind her grew louder with each passing second. And then, just as she neared the edge of the woods, she heard him.

The Earl.

She’d know his low voice anywhere. “Jane!”

The sound of her name on his lips, and said with such… emotion.

Her heart did a somersault. She’d never heard him speak above a low murmur in that rumbly voice of his, and certainly never with anything akin to urgency.

Fear made her limbs go rigid and she bounced awkwardly in her saddle.

She was typically an adept rider, but her head was spinning, and her grip felt weak as she tried to make sense of it. Why, oh why, was he chasing after her?

Tears threatened and her lungs hitched when he called her name again.

But of course she knew. He’d caught her running away.

And he was clearly furious.

His horse was almost alongside hers now, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. When he drew so close she could see his large black stallion looming in the corner of her eye, she had the overwhelming impulse to nudge her horse even faster.

But where would she go? She was heading straight toward his property.

She couldn’t run from him forever. The man was to be her husband. And now she’d made her already horrid situation a hundred times worse.

Oh, why had she listened to her friends? Dares and rebellious acts were well and good for young ladies like Felicity, who cared not what anyone thought. Or Meg, who was so brave. Or Ann, who had a loving family to support her.

But for Jane? What had she hoped to achieve?

Her future was set. She’d always known that. All she could do was make the best of it.

The tears were choking her now, and she had to press her lips together to hold back a sob as he reached for her reins and brought them to a halt.

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the wind in the branches and his slightly ragged breathing. She sat on her mare with her head hung down low. But she could still feel his searching stare.

He was waiting for an explanation, no doubt.

And, of course…an apology.

Her whole body began to tremble. It was fear and despair, she felt, but underneath all that was a rippling wave of anger that shocked her to her core.

She didn’t want to apologize. She didn’t want to see this man at all.

Couldn’t she have just this one day of freedom? This one act of rebellion?

She gripped the edge of her saddle until her knuckles turned white as her breath came in and out in shaky bursts.

She would not sob. But she wanted to.

“Lady Jane.” His voice was closer now. He was standing beside her mare, so close his chest brushed against the skirt of her gown.

But still, she refused to meet his gaze. She kept her eyes trained on her knuckles, and for a long moment they stayed like that. Still and silent.

Until the silence grew so tense and so thick, it was too stifling to breathe. Oh, how she wished one of her friends was here to save her.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

But no, that sort of cowardice was precisely what she’d been trying to overcome. This silly game of dares they’d concocted was supposed to help them all face their fears.

Sweet Meg had been truly brave in saying yes to a dance when all of London mocked her for her limp. And all Jane had to do was hide.

Shame rose up inside her, and that rare flare of anger withered in its wake.

All she’d had to do was not be at home when her fiancé came to call. It had seemed so simple. A harmless little prank that would hurt no one and cause little commotion.

It might’ve stung his pride a little, that was all.

But as she felt herself shrinking under his weighty stare, she cursed herself for being so silly. So weak that she couldn’t even see this dare through.

“Come down from there.” His voice was as low and quiet as ever, and yet she flinched as if he’d just shouted at her.

His sigh was weary, and she let out a little squeak when his hands came to her waist and lifted her down easily.

He set her down on the ground in one quick motion, as if he’d just taken a teacup down from the cabinet.

But he didn’t move back, and Jane found herself trapped between him and the mare at her back.

He was tall. So tall that right now she found herself at eye level with his cravat. She swallowed hard. It was better this way.

She wasn’t sure she could bear meeting his gaze.

Taking a deep breath, she forced out the words she knew she had to say. “I am sorry, my lord.”

He didn’t respond. And his cravat gave nothing away.

She cleared her throat, her skin burning under his scrutiny. Oh, how she hated to be the center of attention. Even at the best of times, when someone was paying her a compliment, being stared at by strangers made her want to crawl out of her skin.

Of course, this man wasn’t a stranger.

But he might as well have been. And his stare was even worse than that of a stranger, because she just knew he was seeking out her faults.

When he stayed perfectly still and silent, and the force of his stare felt like it might burn a hole in her skull, she tried again, her voice even thinner and breathier this time as she struggled to breathe normally. “I apologize for the inconvenience, and?—”

“Curse it.” His interruption was muttered, and not necessarily aimed at her, but it stunned her enough that she backed up a step. One more shuffling step backward, and she bumped into her mare, who shifted in turn, and that had Jane stumbling backward until?—

He caught her.

Her breath caught as the Earl’s hands caught her by the waist and steadied her.

Heat spread through her body as alarm bells rang in her skull. She tipped her head back, blinking in surprise as he fixed her with that oh-so-serious scowl she knew so well.

It wasn’t a glare. There wasn’t enough heat there for that. It was the way he always looked at her. With lowered brows, and narrowed eyes, as if she were a pinned butterfly for him to study.

She tried again. “I apologize for not being at home for our appointment, and?—”

“For the love of–” He dropped his hands from her waist abruptly and crossed them over his chest. “I’m not interested in your apologies, Jane.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t? Confusion battled with fear. What did he expect her to say then?

“What I want to know is…” He leaned down slightly to catch her eye when she started to glance away. “Who were you running from?”

Her eyes widened at the hardness of his tone. “Pardon?”

His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. For a moment she was dumbstruck by the array of emotions that came to life in his normally unreadable expression.

He looked…

Oh drat. He looked furious.

Her heart threatened to skitter out of her chest.

She opened her mouth to apologize again, out of habit more than anything. When her father and aunt were annoyed with her, all they wanted to hear were apologies, not explanations.

But at the memory of his anger at her last apology, she clamped her lips shut once more.

“Listen to me, Jane.” He straightened, his gaze burning into hers. “I am to be your husband.”

She blinked. Was that a threat? Or…

“It is my duty to protect you.”

She blinked again. Her mind attempted to complete the thought. It was his duty to protect her, and…

And he couldn’t protect her if she ran off into the woods alone. Was that what he meant?

She didn’t think so.

Her brows pulled together as she tried to figure out his meaning. And, more importantly, what he wanted from her. If not an apology…then what did he wish for her to say?

Drat. She had no idea. And now her already thick, useless tongue felt like it was permanently lodged against the top of her mouth.

No words came, and she feared the right words never would.

He drew in a deep breath, and she got the impression he was struggling to stay in control of his emotions.

Of his…anger?

Fear flared to life again and it had her wringing her hands together at her waist.

“Jane, you must tell me,” he said slowly, his voice so firm it made her belly quiver. “Who is it that’s hurt you?”

She blinked so many times she must’ve looked like she’d lost her wits. But really, she could not make sense of his question. Who would have hurt her? And why?

“If someone offended you in any way,” he continued, his tone prompting.

Silence fell. It was her turn to speak. But she still had no idea what he wanted her to say. Her mouth was too dry, her throat choked with panic.

“I…what…but…no.” Her answer was gibberish.

She might as well have been speaking in tongues.

She bit her lip to keep from humiliating herself even further, and found him frowning down at her like maybe he was actually trying to decipher that riddle.

She cleared her throat. “No one hurt me.”

Drat. Her cat meowed louder than she’d spoken. Had he even heard her?

Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “No one offended me.”

This was met with a look of disbelief and waning patience. “Jane, no one flees their home like this…” He gestured to her gown, which was doing little to protect her from the cold wind.

Wind which seemed to be growing ever more aggressive.

Her body chose that moment to shiver violently and with another muttered curse, he was taking off his jacket. And seconds later she was cloaked in it. A warm, spicy scent filled her nose as his heat warmed her all the way through.

She might have been quite comfortable…

If she wasn’t so miserable at her current state.

She wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear, or what it was he suspected.

His expression was grim. His dark hair was unusually disheveled, and the hard, unforgiving angles of his nose, cheeks and jaw looked to be made of granite. “If you won’t tell me who’s been mistreating you, I’ll have to make inquiries of my own.”

Her heart leapt. Mistreating her? “No one has been mistreating me.”

He made a noise that might have been an exasperated huff if he didn’t look so hard and unflappable. “Jane. You were running away.”

She flinched at the accusation. But by the way his gaze was probing as he arched his brows…he was waiting for an answer. Again.

You were running away.

“Er…” Oh drat. “Yes.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “From whom?”

Her lips parted at the fire in his eyes.

Oh, she was done for.

She’d thought he was terrifying before, but she’d never seen him angry. The sight was enough to destroy whatever was left of her wits.

“Did your father hurt you?” he continued.

“What? No!”

“Your aunt, then.”

She shook her head. What was he talking about?

His fury was terrifying.

His brows came down. “Did a servant take liberties, or?—”

“No, of course not.” She straightened. Despite her fear, she was offended by that accusation on behalf of their servants.

“Then tell me, Jane.” He caught her chin and lifted her face. “ Who were you running from?”

His grip was light, but his gaze held her prisoner. He’d never let up until she answered. And so, without even meaning to…

She told him the truth.

“You,” she breathed. “I was running from you.”