guidance," Aiden qualified.
''Miss Alex knows nothing of carriages," Mohan offered,
a decidedly wary note shading the observation.
Aiden opened the last window on his side. ''Then it's a
good thing that I do, isn't it?"
''Does Miss Alex know this is what we are about?"
And it was done. They were now fellow conspirators,
united against the practicality and feminine fears of Alex Radford,
Duchess and Mother Hen. He'd have to make sure it
didn't go too far, of course; he was, the adult in this. But it was
time for the boy to let loose of the apron strings and, one way
or another, Alex needed to let him go. Aiden came out of the
stall and leaned his shoulder against the upper rail. "She has
some idea. In a general sense."
''Does she approve?" Mohan asked, climbing up to sit on
the railing on his side of the stable.
Aiden shrugged and smiled. "She'll eventually come
around to seeing things my way."
Mohan looked as if he wanted to be optimistic. "Miss
Alex can be somewhat stubborn, you know."
Somewhat? "I've noticed that."
"My father says that until she learns to be less stubborn
she will not make a good wife."
"Then it's probably best that she hasn't married," Aiden
offered diplomatically.
"My father says that she would make a most acceptable
mistress, though."
Aiden chuckled. "I just can't imagine her being interested
in such an arrangement, can you?"
"My father is a raja," the boy countered in all seriousness.
"People must obey his commands. Even Miss Alex. Even if
she does not agree with him."
Mohan thought the raja could command Alex Radford to
be-his mistress? Obviously ~e boy had no realistic idea of
how those sorts of relationships worked. A scrap of conversation
fluttered from his memory and he smiled. "So tell me;
has he ever commanded her to bow to him?"
Mohan beamed. "He did Mrs. Radford, Miss Alex's
mother. She explained the British customs and my father,
being a wise and honorable man, decreed a solution. Miss
Alex continues with the decision and lowers her chin to acknowledge
my father's presence and authority."
"How very accommodating of her," Aiden replied dryly,
thinking that the raja, to his credit, had emerged from the
battle with as much of his dignity as any man could have
hoped to salvage.
"There are some in the court who think Miss Alex is disrespectful
and resent her presence."
Aiden's amusement ebbed away. Mohan had offered the
words blithely, but the look in his eyes was wary and assessing.
'Then I'll bet they were happy to see her shipped
to England for a while," he offered, testing the waters into
which Mohan seemed to be drawing them.
''They will oppose her return. Strongly."
"If you're trying to tell me something, Mohan, just come
right out and say it."
It took him a moment to choose his words. "Miss Alex
fears that my father's enemies will come here to harm me. I
think my father's friends will also come to London and that
they will kill Miss Alex."
His stomach slowly knotting, Aiden turned the information
over in his mind. "Does she know about these people?
Does she suspect that their opposition is that strong?"
"If you have noticed that she is stubborn," Mohan countered,
hopping down off the railing, ''you have also no doubt
noticed that she is very intelligent and observant."
That she was. And so, surprisingly, was Mohan. And in
ways far beyond his years. "Do you think anyone's here already?"
Aiden asked, willing to trust the boy's assessment.
"My father's enemies, perhaps yes. My father's friends,
not yet."
''They'll come when you're summoned back to India,"
Aiden mused aloud. ''Until then, their larger interests are
served in keeping her around."
Mohan slowly smiled. "You are a very intelligent man,
Mr. Terrell," he said, the buoyancy back in his voice. "I believe
that I may be persuaded to think that it was wise of
Miss Alex to hire you."
"Persuaded?"
"I would like a white stallion to ride about London."
Aiden chuckled. "What you'd like and what you'll actually
get are two very different things."
Mohan studied him for a moment and then shrugged his
shoulders. "One should at least try."
“Fine. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Let's see if we
can find some brooms and clean this place up a bit while we
wait for Miss Radford to join us."
He half expected Mohan to say that cleaning the stable
was Preeya's work, and when he didn't and headed to the
tack room instead, Aiden counted it as a sign of sure success.
He let the boy go to explore on his own, knowing that Mohan
would appreciate and do well with the freedom. Still
leaning against the stall railing, he stared down at his dusty
boots. How long would it be before the raja called his son
and the royal tutor back to India? A week? A month? A year?
Would the assassins arrive after the missive or would Alex
be dead before she could receive it?
Next week would be on his watch; he could protect her.
Maybe he'd still be here even a month from now. But if the
summons was issued after Lal's replacement arrived ...
He'd just have to make sure, before he left, that the new
guard understood that Alex needed to be protected every bit
as much as Mohan did. Yes, that's what he'd do. It would be
enough and he could go away without his conscience bothering
him. But why the hell hadn't she said something to him?
It was the most disconcerting ride she'd ever taken. Aiden
Terrell sat opposite her either staring out the window or appraising
her as if she were some sort of rare and exotic bug.
She'd thought several times to politely inquire as to what
was concerning him. but hadn't been able to find so much as
a pause in the steady stream of commentary that had been
pouring out of Mohan since the moment the rented carriage
had started to roll.
Lord only knew what had transpired in the stable before
she arrived there, but clearly something rather momentous
had. Mohan was more excited and happier than she'd ever
seen him; leading her to think that whatever had happened
was generally good. On the other hand, Aiden Terrell was
quiet and decidedly pensive. She didn't know what to think
of his behavior. It was so different from any she'd seen from
him so far. Although, she admitted, as the carriage turned
and slowed, there was a certain deliberate quality to his silence
that seemed to be typical of him. As far as she could
tell, nothing Aiden Terrell did was less than wholehearted.
The carriage eased to a stop and Mohan bolted for the
door, throwing it open and bounding out before she could
catch him.
"Mohan!" she called after him. "Slow down and be careful!"
Aiden stepp
ed out and turned back, offering his hand.
Alex took it and allowed him to help her to the ground, her
gaze narrowing past him and her stomach filling with dread.
They had arrived at a snowy field filled with rows and rows
of carriages of every sort. And Mohan was running headlong
into their midst. The ground was so slippery underfoot.
He was going to lose his footing in the snow, fall, and crack
open his head.
''Let him run and climb," Aiden said softly, releasing her
hand to offer his arm instead. "He isn't going to hurt anything."
''Other than himself," she protested as she accepted his
assistance and her ward disappeared into the maze of wheels
and big black boxes.
"Boys not only bounce, they heal quickly. Besides, the
only way he'll ever know his limits is to push them." He
looked over his shoulder as he led her off toward the carriages.
"Please wait for us, driver."
''And if he hurts himself in the process?" Alex pressed,
trying and failing to catch a glimpse of Mohan.
''Then he'll have something interesting to talk about with
other boys. Never underestimate the social value of a good
scar. The grislier, the better."
"Men are very strange creatures, Mr. Terrell."
He chuckled and the arm under her hand relaxed a bit. "Do
you have a preference for a carriage style? Mohan wants an
open one so he can be admired as he careens through town."
Careen? God help London if Mohan was ever truly given
the reins. "I think a closed one would be much more practical
from a number of standpoints."
"What?" he teased. "You don't want to be admired as you
ride about London?"
"In the first· place," she countered, glad that his pensive
mood had lifted, "only the most outrageous of the ladies are
noticed or admired by anyone. I'm a shopkeeper and not
worth anyone's attention. And in the second place, the fewer
people who notice Mohan, the better."
"Well, we could put a sack over his head and be done
with it."
"You're being ridiculous again."
''That would require a lead rope around his waist, though,"
he continued, undaunted by her censure. "Otherwise, he's
going to charge headlong into something and damage it And
of course, sacked, he'd never be able to ride a horse or drive
a carriage. Not that that would make you happy."
"Mr. Terrell," she began. "I know that you think I'm-"
"What is it going to take to get you to call me Aiden?"
"A great deal more familiarity than is prudent."
He drew her to a stop and turned to squarely face her. He
cocked a brow and smiled, dimpling his cheek. "Prudence is
highly overrated, Alex. "
"I haven't given you permis-"
"I know. I haven't asked for it either, have I?"
The presumptuous man! ''Must you always inter-"
"Yes. I've discovered it's the quickest and easiest way to
end the resistance." His eyes twinkled. "Which is utterly futile,
you know. You may as well give up the effort and enjoy
the fact that someone else is taking the lead for a change. If
it helps any, pretend that you're dancing."
"I don't dance," she declared flatly, firmly.
He blinked and rocked slightly back on his heels. "Why
ever not?"
"Because I don't like to be led. I tend to step on toes with
great regularity."
His smile quirked higher. "You just need a bit of practice
and the right partner. It's all a matter of trust and conviction."
The effort to hold her own against his relentless press was
exhausting, but she was determined to try for as long as she
possibly could. "I've always wondered," she countered,
"why it's the man who is allowed to maneuver by conviction
and the woman who is expected to follow on blind trust."
There, she silently taunted. Explain that, Aiden Terrell.
He laughed quietly, boldly meeting her gaze. "Because,
generally speaking, we can see over your heads. That's a distinct
advantage when trying to shepherd someone through a
crowd of people, you know.
"Since you don't dance," he went on, ignoring her quiet
groan of frustration, "I assume Mohan hasn't been taught.
We'll have to add dancing instruction to his activities. Not
that he's going to be any more thrilled by the prospect than
you are. Boys hate to dance. It's not until they're a bit older
''Tactical?'' she repeated. Her mother's instruction on European
dances hadn't included the slightest hint that there
was anything more to it than proving oneself socially and
physically graceful.
"I'll show you later."
"I think not," Alex countered, remembering the power
he'd had over her in the doorway of her room. To actually
step into his arms would be the greatest folly of her life.
He laughed and his eyes sparkled as he gazed down at
her. "Have you always been so headstrong?"
"Mr. Terrell! Miss Alex!"
They both looked toward the sound of Mohan's voice. He
was some distance down the row, his stance suggesting that
he'd slid to a halt. "Over here!" he called, pointing off to his
left. "It is the perfect carriage! Come see!"
Aiden Terrell offered his arm again. As Alex took it, he
said, "You're not off the hook. We'll finish this conversation
later."
No they wouldn't, Alex silently vowed as she walked at his
side. She wasn't going to give him the slightest opportunity to
push her in a direction she didn't want to go, into concessions
she didn't want to make. If there was one thing she'd learned
about him in the hours since he'd moved into her life, it was
that to give Aiden Terrell even the tiniest of openings was
tantamount to surrendering.
No, she was done trying to be amiable and accommodating.
He could smile all he wanted. He could laugh and his
eyes could twinkle and she wasn't going to let it affect her.
He was an employee. A temporary one at that. It didn't matter
how charming he could be or how pleasantly persistent.
And, most importantly, it didn't matter that simply looking
at him warmed her blood and stirred her desires. She
could resist. She was strong. She was of independent mind,
body, and spirit. No man was ever going to own her. Especially
John Aiden Terrell. He was too handsome, too confident,
too sure of his ability to seduce any woman he wanted.
She wasn't going to be another of his Rose Walker-Hineses.
It would be entirely too embarrassing to be casually bedded
and then just as casually discarded.
Thinking to steel her resolve, Alex stole a glance at him.
He caught it and held it, his smile soft and somehow knowing,
his brow cocked in silent amusement. Her mind said
that she should be outraged by his manner. Her heart whispered
that he was the most fascinating, magnificent man
she'd ever met.
It took every bit of her will to look away. But there was absolu
tely
nothing she could do about silencing the thundering,
traitorous beat of her heart. nothing she could do to squelch
the certainty welling up and filling her soul.
"Is it not beautiful, Miss Alex?"
She blinked, startled back to the snowy field with a
breathtaking jolt. Just ahead of her, Mohan sat in the box
pretending to drive what had to be the biggest, brightest,
most outrageously garish carriage ever built.
"My, it's certainly ... " She hesitated, searching desperately
for something even remotely kind to say about Mohan's
choice. "Red," she finished lamely.
"And with enough gilt," Aiden muttered, "to qualify as a
rolling French-" He exhaled long and hard and then called
up to Mohan, "I thought you said you wanted an open carriage."
Mohan beamed down at them. "People will surely be able
to see me in this one. Will they not?"
"I don't know how they could possibly miss you," Alex
answered, feeling slightly queasy. She turned her head and
fastened her gaze on a nearby carriage-a sedate and conservative
black brougham. "For God's sake," she said softly,