Wicked Heart (Brazen Bluestockings #1)

August 2, 1818

Tilbury, England

Her mother had said this dog would get her into trouble one day. Ivy had just never believed it would be quite this soon. Or in quite this mortifying a manner. As Ivy crashed through the forest, her feet beating against the dry ground, she cursed the furry creature that easily avoided her every attempt to catch it. Despite carrying its unfortunate, rather unwieldy, treasure.

“Darcy!” She ducked under a low-hanging branch, letting out another expletive. “Come back here right this instant or you will never get a single scrap of food from the table again.”

The shaggy black retriever either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. Possibly both. With a huff, she stopped her pursuit. She had a stitch in her side and was decidedly out of breath. Her energy levels definitely did not match that of the dog.

Her eyebrow quirked when she noticed the dog slowing down when it no longer had someone pursuing it. Maybe the game was not as fun without a playmate. Side-eyeing the animal, she made a show out of sitting down on a stone while feigning disinterest.

Darcy had now stopped and stood a few yards away, watching her. His tail swished back and forth as he waited to see if she would keep chasing him.

“You’re supposed to be a retriever,” Ivy muttered under her breath. “So bring me your prey.”

Problem was that Darcy had been such a poor hunting dog that his previous owner had abandoned him. Her father had proclaimed him the worst hunting dog he’d ever encountered. Ivy had begged for the dog, and her father had reluctantly agreed to let her keep him for company. Her mother had warned her that a dog raised for hunting might not be a suitable pet, but Ivy had refused to believe it.

Darcy took a step towards her. She continued facing slightly to the side to make him think she wasn’t interested. Another step. Finally, the dog reached her and dropped his treasure at her feet with a joyful bark, as if trying to tell her to throw it for him to fetch. She ducked down and picked it up before he could realise she would not and ran off with it again.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled as she looked the item over. It was heavier than she had expected and it was rather impressive how far her dog had managed to run with it. She met the dog’s dark eyes as he cocked his head to look up at her. “We had better find who you stole this from, boy. Do you remember where they were?”

With a groan, she looked back at the wooden leg with its leather brace. Some poor person out there was missing their lower leg. And it was her dog’s fault. Tucking the item under her arm, she followed the path back to where she’d first seen her dog with it.

Unfortunately, Darcy loved running quite far ahead of her in the forest, so she had quite a few options. The dog did enjoy the water, though. He would often run down and take a quick swim in the lake before returning soaking wet. Maybe she’d start there.

They reached the lake a short while later, finding the secluded spot where Ivy would usually go. It also happened to be one of Darcy’s favourite spots. As they broke through the trees to enter the grove by the water, Ivy froze.

This was definitely the spot.

A horse grazed on the green grass a few yards away, and a tall man sat on the trunk of a fallen tree whose length reached all the way into the lake. Ivy loved that tree and would use it to jump into the water when she felt particularly playful. Which, admittedly, was most of the time.

The man was tall, and his dark auburn hair was wet from a swim. A jacket and waistcoat lay draped across the bark of the tree. His white shirt stuck to his upper body, with patches of it damp as if he had pulled it on without drying properly first. His dark riding breeches followed powerful thighs, but where the left leg was covered by a black Hessian boot, the fabric ended on nothing below his right knee.

He looked up when Darcy ran forwards with his tail wagging cheerfully. The man’s gaze lifted, and he caught sight of Ivy at the edge of the forest. She drew a sharp breath. He was handsome. Much more handsome than most of the young men in her village.

A dark shadow of stubble gave him a slightly dangerous air, probably aided by the hair ruffled from his swim and the scar dissecting his right eyebrow. And his state of undress. It didn’t escape her notice that the body underneath the clinging shirt was well-built, with wide shoulders. She could glimpse a sculpted chest in the gaping V left by the open buttons.

When she said nothing, the man raised a dark eyebrow. “I believe you have something of mine.”

“Oh!” Heat filled her cheeks as she remembered why she had come there in the first place. “I am so sorry. Darcy loves fetching things. All kinds of things.”

“Obviously,” the man replied sardonically. When she still didn’t move, he nodded towards the wooden leg in her arms and she hurried over to him and handed it over.

“I… I really am sorry,” she said again as the stranger inspected the leg. Fortunately, Darcy did remember his hunting training enough to hold his prey gently, so there were minimal teeth marks in the wood. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“You can start by turning around,” he said. “I would rather not have an audience while pulling my breeches up to put it on.”

“I… Oh!” She quickly whirled around, wondering if it was humanly possible to blush any more than she already was. It would probably be prudent for her to leave. She heard the soft rustling of fabric behind her. Staring intently at a dandelion in the grass, she suspected it most definitely would be the prudent thing to leave. And yet, she stayed.

Nothing interesting ever happened in Tilbury. It was perfectly ordinary. And perfectly boring. This was probably the most excitement she had ever had in her life.

Shifting from one foot to the other, she called over her shoulder. “So… Are you just travelling through or are you visiting someone in Tilbury?”

There was a moment’s silence. Enough to make her think he wouldn’t answer. Then he said, “I am visiting.”

Excitement coursed through her. She liked the idea of getting to see more of this handsome stranger. “May I ask who you are visiting? Tilbury is not large. I might know them.”

Another moment’s hesitation. “I will be staying with the Newtons. I am not personally familiar with them, but we share a common friend who has gained me an invitation.”

“The Newtons? That is brilliant news! Olivia Newton is one of my best friends.” She raised herself on her toes and back down again, barely able to contain her excitement. “You will find they have a pretty full house this summer. Many visitors.”

“Then I shall not feel too out of sorts, I am sure.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he added, “You may turn around now. I am decent.”

Turning around, she flashed him a smile, hoping to make him feel welcome in the village. Naughty dog notwithstanding. He looked nearly as good fully dressed as he had when scandalously partly dressed.

The maroon waistcoat and dark riding jacket made his shoulders seem even wider somehow, but even with the white cravat tied at his neck, he still looked slightly unkempt. It was probably the mass of dark auburn hair that needed to see a comb and the stubble, but she didn’t mind. He looked how she imagined the heroes of her gothic novels did. Dark and handsome. A little bit dangerous. But only in a good way.

“I’m Ivy Edwards,” she said and bobbed a quick curtsy. “With no one here to properly introduce us, I hope you will forgive my forwardness.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Considering that you were cradling my leg a moment ago, I think we can forgo propriety for a moment.” He bowed lightly. “Sam Hemsworth.”

“Well, Mr Hemsworth. Please allow me to welcome you to Tilbury.” She threw a wry look at the black shaggy dog that sat next to her. “In a manner more appropriate than what you have experienced thus far.”

He arched a dark eyebrow, amusement sparkling in his hazel eyes. “And what manner would that be?”

“Oh, I…” Her cheeks heated again from the way his eyes travelled over her form. Maybe that hadn’t been the best wording. “Why don’t I show you into the village? I can bring you to Tuckton House so you do not have to go searching for the Newtons.”

“I would appreciate that. Thank you, Mrs Edwards.”

“Miss.”

His eyes widened slightly. It wasn’t exactly proper for him to be alone with a married woman, but even worse to be found with an unmarried one.

“Miss Edwards,” he corrected before clearing his throat. “Perhaps us walking together to the village might not be such a good idea.”

She nodded, even if she was disappointed. He was right, of course. As a single woman, she could not spend time alone with a man in this manner without a chaperone. If they appeared together in the village, it might send tongues wagging.

“I will show you the way,” she muttered. Turning around, she found the path leading through the forest back to the road to the village. She could hear Mr Hemsworth following with his horse. Darcy ran ahead as usual. The dog had never learnt to heel. Or simply didn’t care to.

“Should you not have a chaperone with you?” Mr Hemsworth asked behind her.

She scoffed. “I probably should, but Tilbury is a small village, and no one cares too much if I go for a walk in the forest with my dog.”

“I suppose things are different compared to London,” he allowed.

“Is that where you’re from?” she asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder. He walked next to his horse, a slight unevenness to his gait. A walking cane was tied to the saddle, but he wasn’t using it, and she didn’t want to ask.

“My family lives elsewhere,” he said. “But I’ve been in London since returning from the war.”

“Is that where…” She trailed off, realising it might be rude to refer to his missing limb.

“Where I lost my leg?” The wryness of his voice made her grimace, but he didn’t sound too upset. “Yes.”

Not wanting to pry, she asked nothing more, and they walked in silence until they reached the dirt road a short while later. She pointed in the village’s direction. “You’ll find Tilbury about half a mile that way.”

Mr Hemsworth looked down at her, a slight crease between his brows as he seemed to weigh the risks of being seen with her. “Actually,” he said slowly. “If you wouldn’t mind showing me the way, I would be eternally grateful.”

She smiled brightly. “I’d love to!” As they fell into step next to each other, she gave him a conspiratorial wink. “And you need not worry. No one will think too much of me showing you to the village. They will be too preoccupied gossiping about the handsome new visitor.”

He chuckled and his cheeks turned a shade darker. “You find me handsome?”

“Oh.” She feigned a wide-eyed stare. “I apologise. I was speaking of Miss Everleigh. She is an American visiting Olivia—Miss Newton—and everyone is quite excited about it. Still. She arrived before last Christmas.” She smiled wryly. “We don’t get many visitors.”

“I see.” The corners of his mouth twitched with suppressed amusement, and she could see him watching her through the corner of his eye.

“I would never be so forward as to call a man handsome.”

“Of course not.” He was now pressing his lips together to avoid laughing, and it made dimples appear on his cheeks. Oh, he was most definitely handsome. The gossip mill would run warm after his arrival in Tilbury, and the unmarried ladies would surely flock to him like ducks to a pile of seeds.

And there were plenty of unmarried ladies in town this summer, visiting friends and relatives. Combined with the locals, including her sisters, there was sure to be a lot of attention for Mr Hemsworth.

She glanced up at the tall man next to her. His dark auburn hair glistened in the sunlight, still slightly damp from his swim. She might want to flock around him as well. He was, after all, the most exciting thing to happen in her life as of late. No, that was a lie. Ever. Tilbury truly offered little in the way of excitement. It was a good thing she had her books to escape to, or she—

She yelped as her legs connected with Darcy, who had chosen that moment to stop and wait for her, and she lost her footing. Mr Hemsworth reached out to grab her arm, but the commotion excited Darcy enough that the dog decided to join in the fun and jumped up, his front legs hitting Mr Hemsworth hard in the chest.

“Darcy!” Ivy wailed as they all went down in a mass of limbs and fur.

~~~~~~