Mr. Spencer dropped his hands to his side, and Tabetha’s gaze transfixed on his fingers. He flexed them, made a fist, and then flexed them again. The antagonism hovering in the air alarmed Tabetha more than a little. Even the cat seemed to notice it, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.
This situation had indeed escalated rather quickly.
“Because if you do,” Tabetha inserted herself into the conversation. “I’ll return your cat to you. But not until we’re back in London and not until I see that you are willing to act with discretion.”
Mr. Spencer took a moment to glance back at her a second time, an incredulous scowl darkening his features. She widened her eyes at him in a meaningful way, doing her best to convince him to go along with her plan.
Furthermore, Archimedes did not want to go with the duke.
“I have a buyer in London waiting for that animal.”
“Then I suggest you listen to the lady,” Mr. Spencer replied, nonplussed.
Tabetha suppressed the urge to bounce up and down in an inappropriate victory dance. Stone Spencer was actually going along with her plan! It was about time he acknowledged that she wasn’t an empty-headed debutante and this way, she could possibly still find some duke who’d be willing to marry her.
“You must be joking,” Culpepper said.
“We can handle all of this civilly. It’s up to you. Protect her reputation and you get your cat back.”
Tabetha counted the cluster of servants standing by. She and Mr. Spencer were quite outnumbered, more than two to one. Or precisely two to one if she counted the cat.
“This is ridiculous. You think you can bargain with me? Not only will you hand over the cat but the lady as well.”
“I’m afraid neither of those two scenarios is going to happen.” Behind his back, Mr. Spencer pointed to the horse.
Insistently.
“Should I get on the horse?” she whispered, uncertain what he wanted.
In answer, he pointed even more…pointedly. And she barely comprehended a hissed answer. “Yessssss.”
“Oh, but you are wrong.” Culpepper moved at the same time she did and in that moment, his thugs leapt at Mr. Spencer.
Get on the horse. Get on the horse. But how? She’d only ever ridden side-saddle, as any proper English lady did. And that was without a hairless cat clinging to her and without an angry duke coming after her menacingly.
Shoving all of that from her mind, she lifted her slippered foot and, hopping on her other, placed it into the metal stirrup hanging down. Ignoring as best she could the fact that she was exposing far too much of her stockinged legs, she gripped the saddle horn and heaved herself onto the saddle.
Landing on her belly, the result of her efforts was far too reminiscent of being carried atop Mr. Spencer’s shoulder less than ten minutes before.
Only this time, rather than gaping at Mr. Spencer’s bottom, she was staring at the side of the horse’s stomach, one leg dangling off the horse’s tail end, and her other foot trapped at an awkward angle in the metal stirrup.
The sounds of fists slamming against flesh and resulting grunts coming from behind her did nothing to mollify her panic.
“Come here, Archimedes.” Culpepper’s shoes appeared in her vision. From this perspective, the padding in his calves was quite apparent.
Tabetha arched her back at the same time she attempted to slide her leg around to sit up, but Culpepper pushed down on her back. “Stay right there, My Lady.”
How had she not realized he was such a menace? She closed her eyes and winced as the cat scrambled away from the duke, digging his claws into her… bum!
“Come back here, my precious pet.” Culpepper was all but smothering her now, his torso and waist pressing her face into the side of the horse while he grasped for poor Archimedes.
Poor Archimedes, indeed! She grimaced again. The more Culpepper tugged at the cat, the deeper the cat’s claws dug into her flesh. All the while, the horse was becoming agitated beneath her.
If she didn’t do something,if somebody didn’t do something, this was going to end quite poorly.
Before she could come up with any sort of inspired plan, Culpepper flew off of her and sprawled on the ground. Archimedes scrambled back to her shoulder, and she was straddling the horse with Mr. Spencer’s body fit snugly against her from behind.
“Hiya!”
