Minerva's Match Read online

  Dear God, what was he doing? She had driven him mad. Of course he was smiling, so that confirmed what a fool he was. He had no means to marry the girl. She’d be better off going after George.

  “George, thank you for your help.”

  “Dunno as I really did anything.” The man shrugged. James liked George, as long as he said what he really thought and not what he expected people wanted to hear.

  “Either way, here is my card. I’d like you to look me up when you are in London next. I’d like to meet this managing girl you are so fond of. I’ve got to get going. If I don’t catch up with you later, safe trip.”

  They’d gone round and round for the last two hours. James had literally started tearing at his hair.

  “So am I to understand that you would like to award the prize to my work, yet you feel you can’t as some sort of punishment for having broken no rule that is in the books?”

  “Well, it is the spirit of the thing,” Hastings, that prig, interjected.

  “So I’ve broken the spirit of a rule that was never written down?”

  “You know women aren’t allowed here.”

  “But there is no actual rule, and she was here simply to observe and was bloody unhappy at being called out in front of everyone too.”

  “Got an earful did you?” one of the other men joked.

  He didn’t dignify the question with a response.

  James stood suddenly, and all conversation stopped when his chair scraped the floor. He gathered his wits as he massaged the bridge of his nose. At this point, he’d trade the prize for a packet of headache powders. Which made him think.

  “I’ll take second.”

  “What?” Hastings croaked at him. Dammit, second place wouldn’t pay him the money he needed for that plow, but it was enough, when combined with the money they’d made yesterday, to get Minerva home and give him enough that he could keep fed while he hitched rides with farmers going to London.

  “Give me second place and be done with it. Fine, I’ll consider myself chastised, though mark my word, there will be changes coming, gentlemen.” There was a nodding of heads all around, but unfortunately for the men assembled, he didn’t think they had any idea what he was talking about. More’s the pity.

  He gathered the prize money and thought about how to tell Minerva. She was a practical girl. She would see that he’d done what he had to do, for her own good. For his damned sanity, he needed her in London and then he could go off and have a good think. He needed an annulment and quickly, except his conscience niggled at him. They’d been intimate. Hell’s bells, that was an understatement. She’d taken up residence somewhere in his soul, and he was afraid he’d never root her out. Worse, he was starting to fear he didn’t want to.

  Then there was the whole business of only allowing spouses to be members. If she were a member, even just an observing one, they could continue to collaborate, surely. That might be worth marrying him for? Except, he wasn’t sure it would be, and he didn’t know if that was the way he wanted to get a wife, assuming he wanted to get a wife at all. Gah! What he needed were some damn headache powders.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Minerva should have been thrilled. She’d never been to a country fair before, and they were rather raucous, what with people shouting, hawking their wares. Unfortunately, the fair was also rather overwhelming, and she wasn’t sure where to look next. She half wished James were here to help her navigate the crowds and then chastised herself for the very thought. The man hadn’t even readily consented to continue to collaborate with her when directly asked. She had let it go then, but the thought had rankled.

  The fair was quite the crush, and she had been jostled to the point of screaming. One man felt it his due to grab at her and not in a let-me-help-so-you-don’t-fall- over sort of way. She had leaned into him, letting him feel the prick of her knife in that place that men treasured above all others, as she whispered in his ear, “Take your hand from me or you’ll lose your bollocks.” Then she’d smiled at him and pressed the knife harder against his flesh. She took some satisfaction in the way his eyes had gotten wide and the curse he’d muttered under his breath. His hand had dropped from her breast posthaste. She should have gelded the man regardless to make him think twice about touching another woman.

  “Frigid bitch,” he’d called after her as she’d walked away.

  “Yes, thank you,” she’d called back with false cheeriness. Yes, she wished James were here right now so she could curl into the strength of his shoulder, his steady arm around her. But it was all a pointless dream. James was never going to come to her aid, never going to defend her honor. She’d learned long ago that if anyone was going to defend her, it would be herself, and now maybe the other Heiresses.

  She had just recovered her composure when a smallish boy ran smack into her.

  “See here, young man, you need to watch where you’re going.”

  “Begging your pardon, miss. But I heard they’re looking for grooms to work with the horses for the races. I want to get there ’fore anyone else.”

  “Oh, I have a friend who might be racing that I’m trying to find. Do you know if The Cat is supposed to race?” The boy stopped trying to push past her and stopped dead with his mouth hanging open.

  “You know The Cat?”

  “Not well, but yes, we’ve met.”

  “Can you get me a job with ’im?”

  “I can ask, but you’ll have to show me where the riders are gathered.”

  The boy grabbed her hand, nearly bruising it, so as not to lose her while he towed her to where she hoped Katie would be.

  A short while later, they arrived at a nondescript tent. The boy let go of her and waited as if she knew what to do now.

  “Well, I showed you where the riders are,” he said. “Now you need to keep your end and introduce me.”

  He pulled himself up to his full height, ran his fingers through his unruly hair, and straightened his jacket. She couldn’t help noticing that his coloring was much like James’. The thought of James as a small boy made her smile. She wondered what their children would look like and then gasped at the thought. She couldn’t think like that. She was forgetting herself. They might have been intimate, her cheeks warmed at the remembrance, but he’d only offered because he’d felt he had to. She wasn’t the kind of wife he needed. He needed a countess, and one who would give him heirs. She hadn’t been able to carry Oliver’s child and stood a good chance of never having any. She shook the thought away, but the poor boy thought she was shaking her head at him.

  “You promised.”

  “I did, but you never told me your name.” She smiled at him now, and his shoulders relaxed.

  “Brian, miss.”

  “And do you have any experience with horses, Brian?”

  “I do, miss. My pa and I have even trained a few racers.”

  “Then you sound eminently qualified.” The boy’s eyebrow quirked at the word he didn’t understand. “I’d be happy to introduce you, if I can find he—him. You wait here. I’ll come get you.”

  She made the rounds of the tent, and no one she asked had seen the “boy” called The Cat. She was about to give up when a man stopped her.

  “Lass, what business do you have with The Cat?”

  “Nothing I need to discuss with anyone else.” The man’s face turned into a scowl. She gave him her own right back.

  Then he started laughing at her. “Oh, you must be a friend of Katie’s.” That grabbed her attention.

  “You know…?”

  “Aye, who do you think keeps her safe? So now, will you tell me your business?”

  “Of course. But there is a boy who helped me out. Seems to know horses and was looking for a job as a groom. If you don’t have something for him, perhaps you know someone else?”

  “I’ll see the lad. Always room for a good groom. Now, what is your story?”

  “I’m afraid I’m stranded, and Colin gave me Katie’s direction, but I
lost it and my bag. I was hoping she would know someone who could take me to London, well, me and a friend.”

  “Two of you? That’s no small feat, miss.”

  “I have a little bit of money so I can pay, but I’m afraid it isn’t very much. I’m willing to work, though, and my friend will too.”

  “What on earth is a girl doing so far from London on her own?”

  “What on earth is a girl”—she lowered her voice so just he could hear her–“doing beating all the men at horse racing?”

  “Aye. You’re one of Katie’s. Let’s get the boy, and I’ll see what I can do. The Cat won’t be here until later this afternoon when the races start.”

  “Good. I have to go get my friend back at the inn.”

  She saw Brian squared away, and Katie’s protector showed her where to meet them after the races. He also showed her where she could place a few small wagers. That done, all she had to do now was find James and then make her way back.

  She saw James well before he saw her. He was pacing outside the inn, and it looked as though he was talking to himself. He was also pulling at his hair, actually alternating between pulling at it and then smoothing it back into place, only to muss it up again. She couldn’t help but smile, remembering the awful earl doing the same thing. The man seemed to do it most when he was thinking, working over some problem in his head, until he figured out just the right answer, if there could be any solution at all. A habit that, at the time, she’d found ridiculous and had judged a character flaw. Now that she knew him as James, that habit seemed to humanize him in a way she found endearing. Oh, how things had changed in a few short days.

  “James? Is something the matter?” When he turned to look at her, his eyes were cloudy with his thoughts. Evidently, he hadn’t come to an conclusion yet. She reached up and smoothed his hair where he’d ruffled it. It was much coarser than hers, yet not as coarse as his whiskers. The texture of it was pleasant on her fingertips. His eyes seemed to clear as she touched him.

  “Hello to you too. Did you say something?” His voice was a deep rumble she hadn’t realized she’d missed.

  “I asked, was something the matter? We’re to meet my friend later. I spoke with someone who thinks they can get us a ride back to London.” Her fingers hadn’t left his hair. Was it her imagination that he seemed to tilt into her touch?

  “That would be better.” His eyes had slipped shut now, and the corners of his mouth had begun to curve into a subtle smile. Minerva bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The man was as bad as any dog with the way he was happy for the attention. Then what he’d said penetrated her brain.

  “Better how? And did you collect the prize money?”

  He pulled from her touch and self-consciously ran his fingers through his hair again.

  “Better in that if we can get a ride with some farmer then it won’t cost as much, though I will not be sending you off alone. And yes, I did collect the prize money. It is just… Minerva, they liked the ideas very much, but…”

  “Surely just my being there wasn’t enough— From the look on your face it was, wasn’t it? Damn them all for cowards!”

  “I offered to take second. It allowed them to save face. The work will still get published. It is the dissemination of the ideas that is the most important thing.”

  “Yes. Fine. Was there more?”

  James took a step back. “You aren’t any more angry than that?”

  “James, I am a woman. I am used to being disappointed with the way things turn out.”

  His shoulders fell and he looked for a moment like he wanted to pull her into his arms, but then he stared at his boots instead. “There is one other thing. I spoke with Duckworth about admitting women to the Society.”

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes. The wonderful, impossible, arrogant, dear man. She threw her arms around his neck, not giving him a chance to say another word. She couldn’t believe he’d really done it. She couldn’t stop herself and started kissing him, quick pecks covering his cheeks and face. The more she kissed him, the redder he became.

  “Wait! You haven’t let me finish.” He was laughing, but he set her away from him regardless. “He said he’d bring it to the governing board.” She reached out to him, but he backed away again. “You won’t like what I have to say next.” That stoppered her joy. It was like being shown a luscious treat and then told you could only look at it. “Duckworth felt that women could be let in.” He held up his hand before she could manage more than a squeak in delight. “But that it should only extend to spouses of members, and only in an observatory capacity.”

  “Wha— That’s not fair.” Oh, this was cruel! “Why would I marry someone just so I could watch the proceedings and still not get proper credit for doing the work?”

  “My offer still stands.” He pulled her away from the crowd, where he could make himself heard without yelling. “We could marry in name only. You could continue on with your life and I with mine.” And with those words he sliced open her heart a little more. Truly, she hadn’t thought it was still possible for a man to hurt her, but that showed just how dangerous James was to her. He’d found a way to make her care, and if she cared, he had the power to hurt her.

  “I told you no before. It won’t work.” She didn’t need to let him know how much the offer hurt. This morning, the reason for the offer had been about his pride. This time, it had been about mere expediency, far worse in her estimation. Still, it smarted. The sooner they were rid of each other, the better.

  “Minerva, see reason. You do excellent work, and it would allow us to continue to collaborate. Surely, if they come to understand you as I do, then they’ll see they must admit you with all the rights and privileges of any other member.”

  “James, you are deluding yourself if you truly think it will be as simple as that. I don’t want to hear of it again. Do you have all of your things? We should head back to the fairgrounds. I would like to actually see the races.”

  She turned on her heel and marched away so he wouldn’t see the tears now burning to be released. As if she needed more proof that she was unsuitable as a lover or a colleague. Blast, she wanted to be wanted, dare say, even loved, but as usual she’d set her sights too high and doomed herself to heartache and disappointment. She needed to get away somewhere quiet and think.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Truly the woman was infuriating. James hoisted his bag and started walking where Minerva led. There were plenty of women among the ton who would have graciously accepted his proposal the first time he’d made it. But to reject him a second time? Just who did she think she was? A bloody single-minded miss-ish woman, that was what she was. Here he’d swallowed his pride and asked her again, of a sort anyway, and still she threw it back in his face.

  James looked at the woman causing his distress, because truly that was what he was, distressed. He knew he wasn’t the best catch, but being a countess was nothing to sneeze at. Yet when he looked at her, he didn’t see a countess. No damn him, he saw a goddess who deserved his respect and, though it pained him to admit it, his ardor. His anger drained away. The girl was lodged under his skin, and he would never be able to root her out.

  She bloody well deserved to be recognized on her own merits too. So why did she seem so resigned to not getting what she wanted? He gripped her hand and pulled her to a stop.

  “Min, why aren’t you angrier? I mean, them giving us second place? Only allowing spouses any kind of membership? I know how strongly you felt about the work, about wanting to be recognized. Why give up so easily?”

  Her mouth dropped open, and he had the irrational urge to run the pad of his thumb over the full bottom lip. Then he’d bury his hand in that bewitching hair of hers and pull her to him. He shook his head to clear the thoughts, which gave her time to compose her answer.

  “Give up? Are you serious? I haven’t given up. I’m right, and those fools just refuse to see it yet. But mark my words, they will. There will be a day w
hen it is ideas that matter and not whether the person thinking them is wearing a skirt or not.”

  “So go back with me and fight them.”

  “I knew you to be reckless, James; I didn’t think you a fool. Fighting them will do no good. This is a war of attrition. But make no mistake, it is a war.”

  He shivered to his core and sucked in a breath. Her anger had given her skin a rosy flush that made her gray eyes even more striking. Somehow, she seemed taller, regal all of a sudden, as if she were endowed with power from somewhere outside herself. Gods, she was glorious when she was angry.

  “How, how did you become like this?” The question was rhetorical, but she answered him nonetheless.

  “I was raised by a man.” She said the words as if they explained everything. But it confused him all the more.

  “What does that have to do with it?”

  “I had no mother to soften me. When I fell, I never expected anyone to pick me up; certainly my father wouldn’t have thought to. So I learned to depend on myself. I never expect anyone to put their interests aside for my own. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  And with that, she turned and started off again. What she’d said seemed right and honorable on the surface, but as it sunk in, a nearly overwhelming sadness filled his chest. Someone needed to put their interests aside for this girl, because she deserved to know she was worth caring about.

  A second thought occurred to him. Perhaps it wasn’t that he wasn’t good enough for her. Perhaps she felt she wasn’t enough for him. She’d said as much the first time he’d told her they should marry, but he’d lost that thread as his own misgivings had unraveled. Regardless of what happened between them, he’d make damn sure she saw she was worth something to him.

  They walked the rest of the way to the fair in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. As they drew closer, the crowd thickened, until he felt the need to clasp her hand so as not to lose her. Minerva smiled back at him, whatever melancholy had been plaguing her gone also. It was hard to be upset with the limitations of the Society surrounded by people enjoying the sun and the excitement of the fair. Minerva dragged him off toward the racetrack that had been laid out. People already lined the course, waiting for the races to start. He was surprised when she kept walking farther back to where a paddock had been cordoned off.