Regency Collection 2013 Part 1. Louise Allen

that for me.’ His head was spinning—with shock and anger, he realised. The men must not find out that Lily was here. No one must. ‘This foolish wench here has got a bit of a bruising. I will just walk her back to the shaft, make sure she gets back up all right. I’ll speak to you tomorrow, Will.’

      Lily had struggled up on her elbows and was making undignified whooping noises. ‘Quiet,’ he hissed, hauling her to her feet and beginning to march her back down the heading. ‘Have you hit your head?’

      ‘No.’ She had enough breath back to snap at him, and enough sense to keep her voice to a furious hiss. ‘No, my head is fine. The rest of me has just been used as a mattress by some idiot man with delusions of chivalry. Or possibly he was just looking for a comfortable landing.’

      ‘You had no business to be here. You might have been killed.’ For endless seconds he had not known whether she was alive or dead or seriously injured as she lay crushed under him. His stomach still churned with reaction.

      He should escort her to the surface, he should remonstrate with her in a quiet and dignified manner until she saw the error of her ways. What he wanted to do was to shout at her and shake her until her teeth rattled for scaring him more than he had ever been frightened in his life before.

      But it was impossible to do that in the middle of a working mine, as impossible as it would be on the dance floor at Almack’s. Jack set his teeth and half-dragged, half-carried, Lily to the foot of the shaft.

      Her hat was gone. A bedraggled bandana hung down in the midst of a tangle of red curls. With an oath he took off his own hat, bundled her hair under it and jammed it on her head. It came down to her nose.

      ‘Ow!’

      ‘Quiet.’ Jack opened his coat. ‘Put your arms around me, stand on my right foot. Stand, I said, not stamp! Hold on.’

      He crushed her close, the brim of his own hat knocking against his face as he tried to shield her as much as possible. He was shaking, he realised. Just a little. Just enough to be conscious of the tremor running through his arms and legs. She could have been killed, wandering around down there by herself. How the hell had she got there? Oh, God, Lily. I love you. I am going to strangle you …

      They emerged into the daylight, unnoticed in the usual milling crowd at the top. Jack took Lily’s arm above the elbow and walked her fast, straight across the open space to the hovel where he had hitched his horse under the sloping roof. He plucked his hat off her head, clapped it on his own and lifted her, before she could do more than yelp in protest, tossing her over the horse’s neck.

      ‘Stay still.’ He swung up behind her and kicked the big grey into a canter, away from the mine, over the crest of the hill, down towards a copse of trees that lay a mile distant. A favourite picnic place, it would be deserted now. Deserted and just the place for the blazing row he was aching for. Lily was struggling. He fetched her a light slap on the rump. ‘Quiet! You will fall off.’ She retaliated by sinking her teeth into his thigh.

      ‘Bloody hell!’ Her teeth, however sharp, made little impact through the thick canvas trousers he was wearing. Jack snarled in exasperation as she continued to struggle. When the grey plunged into the clearing in the middle of the copse he let her go immediately, so she slid down on to her feet, glaring up at him. The tracks of tears had cut through the dirt and dust on her cheeks. His heart contracted as though a hand had squeezed it.

      ‘Bully!’

      Jack swung down, dropping the reins. ‘Have you got windmills in your head? How the hell did you get down there?’

      ‘I shall not tell you. I tricked them into thinking you approved, but I do not trust you not to sack them, so I will not tell you.’

      ‘I can well believe you tricked them, you hellion. Do you think I don’t know that? Anyone you deceived has my deepest sympathy. Will you stop at nothing to get what you want?’

      ‘I cannot have what I want.’ She said it starkly, stopping him in his tracks. ‘I wanted to see the mine because it is so important to you. I wanted to understand. That is all.’

      ‘And do you understand?’ Jack knew his voice was harsh. He cleared his throat against the obstruction that seemed to be filling it.

      ‘Yes.’ Lily said it quietly. ‘It is the land again, isn’t it? You love all of it, rock deep. You have to be born to it, I think, so it is difficult for someone who is not, but I do think I understand now.’

      ‘Why do you need to?’ He began to move towards her again, not realising just how threatening he must look with his black-grimed face and the heavy coat swirling around him until she took several steps backwards. A tree stopped her. She shook her head, watching him silently.

      ‘I cannot be indifferent to you, Lily. I tried to be just a friend, but I cannot.’ He was right in front of her now. Jack rested both hands on the thick oak trunk, trapping her as he had in the Long Gallery. He had mishandled that spectacularly. Now he had frightened her so that she wanted to run away from him.

      ‘I am sorry. It was kind of you to try. I realise I make you very angry.’

      Finesse deserted him—he just said what he felt. ‘Do you realise I love you more than I have ever loved anything or anyone, Lily? Do you realise that?’

      He did not know what to expect. A slapped face. Anger. Chilly rejection. Instead she went white under the dirt and closed her eyes.

      He thought he stopped breathing. The wide, glorious green eyes opened again, slowly. ‘No. I had not realised that. Oh, Jack!’ Her arms went round his neck and she was pulling his head down, lifting her face for his kiss. He braced his shoulders, holding her back just an inch from his lips.

      ‘Do you mean you love me? Lily?’

      ‘Of course I love you, you thick-skulled aristocrat! Do you think I go around proposing to men I do not love?’

      ‘I have no idea,’ Jack said, finding his mouth was curving into a smile. ‘I find I have no idea whatsoever what you might do, Lily, my love.’

      ‘If you don’t kiss me soon, I think I might just faint.’ Lily thought she would anyway. Things seemed to be spinning, she had no idea if it were possible to be this happy and live, her back felt as though she had been beaten all over with meattenderising hammers and every cell in her body wanted Jack. ‘I love you.’

      Jack’s mouth on hers was hot, hard, as desperate as hers as she strained into him, her fingers frantic as they clung to his shoulders. He was like a rock, her rock. His tongue was relentless, plunging, plundering, claiming her, as though she might have any intention of resisting. She could feel his anger still, it must be burning through his veins, just as her own fear, transmuted into desire, burned through hers.

      His fingers were at her waist, struggling with the buckle of the heavy leather belt. It fell away. ‘What the devil are you wearing?’

      ‘Trousers.’ Lily tugged at the fastenings, her fingers tangling with Jack’s in their mutual urgency.

      ‘Well, you are never going to wear them again. Of all the improper—’ He broke off, on a gasp of laughter that answered hers. ‘Yes, well, never mind that now.’ The trousers dropped away, Jack was doing something to the fall of his own and then Lily found herself lifted, braced against the tree trunk solid at her back. Jack shrugged out of his greatcoat. ‘Damn these clothes. Lily—’

      Acting on instinct, she wrapped her legs around his waist, panting a little. One hand cupped her bare bottom while the other stroked down, found the warm tangle of curls, slid between their locked bodies. Found her. ‘Jack.’

      He shifted her slightly and she felt him, aroused, already brushing against her. ‘Lily, sweetheart …’

      ‘Yes, oh, yes, yes …’ He moved, just a little, nudging against her, entering her a fraction. Lily stiffened. It was almost like it had been when he had made love to her in London. Almost. This was different, this was … more.

      She