Chapter Six
The sound of someone approaching the door pulled Clover out of her depressing thoughts. It was a man’s tread, and she tensed as she sat up. She could not believe Ballard would have the gall to return to her after spending a long, undoubtedly lusty afternoon with Sarah Marsten. Suddenly, her anger took over. She grabbed a heavy candlestick from the bedside table and stood up on the bed. If Ballard stepped through that doorway, she had every intention of doing him some harm. It would never make up for the injury he had inflicted upon her, but it sure would make her feel better.
She watched the door latch move and steadied her aim. The minute the door opened to reveal Ballard standing there, Clover hurled the candlestick at him. A curse hissed through her teeth when he quickly dodged the candlestick, which thumped uselessly against the door he had just closed.
“Now, lass,” Ballard began as he moved warily toward her.
“Do not‘now, lass’me, you randy Scot!”
Clover looked around for another weapon, wishing she had had the foresight to stockpile a few within easy reach. On the other side of the bed, she saw the mate to the candlestick she had just thrown. She moved to grab it, but Ballard was quicker. A screech of frustration and anger escaped her when he tackled her onto the bed. Clover tried to hit and kick him, but after a brief, undignified struggle, Ballard succeeded in pinning her to the mattress.
“I suppose I shouldnae be surprised that a lass with a touch of red in her hair should have a temper,” Ballard muttered with a catch of his breath, as if he were in pain.
“My hair does not have red in it. ‘Tis blond. Now get off me, you lecherous barbarian. Sarah is probably eagerly awaiting your return.”
“Clover, look at me,” Ballard demanded.
She continued to glare at the tip of his long straight nose. The very last thing she wished to do was to look into his eyes. They had been married only a week, but she had already learned how dangerously alluring his rich green eyes could be. He could probably make her believe that he and Sarah had done no more than discuss the merits of the sideboard she had purchased.
“Did you expect me to smile and welcome you after you have been dallying with Sarah Marsten for hours?”
“I have nae been dallying with Sarah!”
“There is no need to shout.”
“Look at me, Clover.”
It occurred to her that if she kept avoiding his gaze, he might guess her weakness. Somehow she was going to have to look into his eyes yet not be lulledby his lies. At the same time she dared not let hurt pride endanger her future with this man, and her family’s security.
Inwardly bracing herself, she finally looked fully at his face and gasped. There was blood on the side and a bruise or two beneath the dirt smudges. She quickly looked over what she could see of the rest of him and her confusion grew. His homespun breeches were quite dirty and torn at the knee. His shirt was half untucked and his buckskin coat was covered in dust. If he and Sarah had been misbehaving, they had indulged in some very rough play and, by the looks of it, done so in the middle of the road. He also smelled as if he had been wallowing in a trash heap.
Still, meeting his gaze, she remained wary. “Did you and Sarah decide to roll about in the fields?” she asked. It would take a lot of explaining from Ballard before she would relinquish her skepticism.
“Nay, we didnae roll about anywhere.” He took a deep breath, knowing that letting her snide remarks provoke him into anger would only make a bad situation worse. “I am about to tell ye a tale ye may find hard to believe.”
“What a surprise!”
Ballard ignored her sarcasm. “I took that hulking piece of furniture to Sarah’s house. Now, I had already figured out that she was trying to, er, pull me into her web. For a fact, I didnae believe it at first, her behavior was so brazen. I thought ‘twas just my vanity. But she got so forward I couldnae ignore it.”
“Neither could anyone else.”
“Once we got to her house, she continued her little game.” Ballard could see that despite her tart remarks, Clover would hear him out, so he releasedher arms and sat up a little. “She offered me a cool drink and I accepted. I felt she had some wrong ideas about me and I wanted to set her straight. I didnae want her fluttering about and causing trouble atween us.”
“Sarah must be a great deal more witless than I thought if it took you all afternoon to do that.”
He held her gaze and hoped that his sincerity showed in his face. “I willnae swear that I will never stray, lass, for a mon’s actions are nae always ruled by his brain, but I dinnae treat lightly the vows I spoke afore God. Fact is, I told her I wasnae interested, and I left her house hours ago. I met Grendall as I came here and he dragged me away. He thought the stallion I sold him was dying.”
“And was it?”
“Aye, but we managed to save it. Someone had poisoned the beast. Grendall is sure it was Dillingsworth.”
“Thomas? Why should he do something like that?”
“Because if he cannae have the beast, he doesnae want anyone else to have it. I left to return here, but at the tavern I saw Aaron Spaulding, a mon who is interested in my horses. He and I shared a few wee ales and made a bargain or two. ‘Twas as I left the tavern that I was set upon by two men. They caught me by surprise, grabbing me from behind. I lost the fight and they played a wee bit of kick the ball with my head and ribs.”
It all sounded a little too pat to Clover, but she reminded herself not to judge him too quickly. Ballard was looking very intense and sincere. She decided it would not be fair to assume immediately that it was all an act. She reached out to touch the back of his head and found a sizable swelling still sticky withblood just behind his right ear. It was not complete proof that he was telling the truth, but she almost believed him.
“Fell off the bed, did you?” she murmured, and met his annoyed glance with a calm look.
