Her Grace's Stable: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 2 Read Free Page A

long time. Surely a real man wouldn’t cry like a baby in another man’s arms.
    “Shhh, you’re going to be all right now,” Cole whispered, stroking his hair with those incredible hands. “You’ll see. Lady Blackmyre’s a rare mistress, good and kind, hard when she needs to be, and so calm, so confident, so…so…”
    “Commanding.” He winced at the rawness of his throat.
    “So you can talk. Can you tell me your name?”
    Better late than never, he tried to think through his options. He’d been kicking himself for one idiotic choice after another. Desperation had driven him to trust someone, who’d then betrayed him to his family. Their betrayal hurt most of all. He’d rather die than let anyone find out who he was, but if he didn’t give out his House name, he doubted even the Duchess would recognize him.
    “Arthur.”
    “Good to meet you, Arthur. Let’s rest here awhile and when you’re ready, do you think you’ll have the strength to make our way to Blackmyre?”
    “I thank you for your help, but I need to be moving on.”
    “You need help.” Cole didn’t make any demands or raise his voice with insistence—but he spoke with the quiet conviction of common sense, which made it difficult for Arthur to argue. “You’re weak and hurt. You’ve been horribly mistreated, which takes quite a toll on a man’s body.”
    You have no idea what toll has been taken on my body. Despite the man’s considerate attention, Arthur couldn’t help the tension screaming through his muscles. Fight, flee, destroy, rage, that’s all he had left. He hadn’t even been able to call his body his any longer. The last thing he wanted to do was put himself anywhere near that deceptively small lady. She had the calm confidence to stand inside a confined space with a wild animal of a man without a single glimmer of fear or doubt. God only knew to what new lows she could bring him.
    “No one will touch you against your will, let alone hurt you,” Cole said softly, as though he knew exactly what fear stirred in Arthur’s heart. “Especially Lady Blackmyre. She’s not that kind of mistress.”
    “I don’t want a mistress. I don’t want a woman to touch me ever again.”
    “I understand. So does she. All we want to do is help you.”
    Arthur couldn’t relax his grim wariness, his muscles aching with strain. He didn’t need the whispered rumors and innuendo centered about the Blackmyre name to be wary. He hadn’t been in the pony games very long before the bad moments had started, but he instinctively recognized the steel core shielded within her elegant, aristocratic demeanor. She might pretend to be a lady of the ton , but his body recognized her. She had the sort of power that could make a man bend knees and kiss her feet.
    A man like me.
    He shuddered so hard he banged his head against the wall. Tears flooded his eyes again and he balled up his fists and fought not to pummel himself into oblivion. Or fling himself in front of the first carriage he could find.
    “Don’t be afraid of her, Arthur.”
    The man rocked him, held him, and God forgive him, he allowed it.
    I’m not afraid of her. I’m afraid of me.

Chapter Two
    When the irate man showed up demanding stolen property, Violet had arranged for law enforcement backup. The kind of people who would do such injustice to another human being would think nothing of harming a lady. However, to protect her House’s tattered reputation as well as the unknown man’s they’d rescued, this interview must be done delicately. The general consensus in Polite Society was that anyone who played such sick games must be immoral and deviant. They certainly didn’t need any help spreading tales of depravity and cruelty among the ton .
    At least Cole had been able to give her the first clue to their guest’s identity, although there were too many Arthurs in Londonium to count. It would take time for her to discover the truth. Time she might not have.
    Her butler, Mr.