"Yes, I know, but you are employed in my household and I feel I have a responsibility toward you. I would not want you to come to any harm."
"Thank you, Miss Wingfield." Jared caught her chin on the heel of his hand and brushed his mouth against hers. "But I assure you I am not in any danger from Pettigrew." He smiled wickedly down at her. "There is only one genuine threat that I am aware of at the moment."
Olympia's eyes widened in alarm. "What is that?"
"The possibility that I might burst into flames at any second due to the smoldering effects of unsatisfied desire."
"Mr. Chillhurst." Olympia turned a vivid shade of pink, but her eyes lit with a deep, answering glow of feminine excitement.
"Until later, my sweet siren."
Whistling softly, Jared left Olympia standing in the hall and walked out into the warm spring morning.
"Mr. Chillhurst, wait." Olympia hurried out onto the front steps.
Jared turned around and smiled. "Yes, Miss Wingfield?"
"You will be careful, will you not?"
"Yes, Miss Wingfield. I will be very careful."
Minotaur came bounding around the corner of the house. Tongue lolling, he wagged his tail and looked hopefully up at Jared.
"I'm afraid you cannot come with me this morning," Jared said. "Stay here and keep an eye on things for me. I shall return soon."
Minotaur sat down on the steps and leaned heavily against Olympia. The dog was clearly disappointed, but philosophical.
It was a relatively short stroll to the Pettigrew farm if one cut through the meadow and the patch of trees that bordered the stream. Jared spent the time contemplating the strange turn his life had taken of late.
The scene he had come upon yesterday afternoon in Olympia's library had given him pause. Mrs. Pettigrew's remarks about Olympia's reputation had been annoying, but he was forced to concede that they were not without merit. Jared knew, even if Olympia did not, that they were playing fast and loose with her reputation.
Passion was an amazing emotion, he thought. Now that he had experienced it firsthand, he had the greatest respect for its power. Nevertheless, he was a gentleman and he had no intention of ruining Olympia. Even if she did not seem to mind being ruined.
The yelps of a kennel full of hunting hounds greeted Jared as he walked up the lane to the Pettigrew house. He examined the property with great interest. The farm was obviously a prosperous one. Jared wondered idly how many of the improvements had been paid for with funds that had been stolen from Olympia and her uncle.
Jared went up the steps and knocked loudly on the front door. It was opened a moment later by a middle-aged housekeeper in a gray dress, a white cap, and an apron. She stared first at Jared's eye patch.
"Ye be the new Wingfield tutor they're all talkin' about, ain't ye?" she demanded.
"I'm Chillhurst. Kindly tell Pettigrew that I wish to speak with him."
"He ain't here," the housekeeper said quickly. "I mean, he ain't in the house at the moment."
"Where is he?"
"Around at the stables." The housekeeper continued to gaze at him in rapt fascination. "I'll fetch him for ye, if ye like."
"Thank you. I'll find him, myself."
Jared turned and went down the steps. He walked around the corner of the house and saw the freshly painted stables.
High-pitched, excited voices caught his attention as he passed the open kitchen door.
"It's him, I tell ye," the housekeeper said to someone else in the house. "The new tutor. They say he's a pirate what's been ravishin' Miss Wingfield every night since he arrived there at Meadow Stream Cottage."
"I heard he was living in the old gamekeeper's cottage at the foot of the lane, same as the others she hired," came the tart reply.
"Well, who's to know just where he spends his nights, I ask ye?" the housekeeper retorted. "Strikes me anything could be goin' on there and no one the wiser Poor Miss Wingfield."
"I ain't so sure she's to be pitied."
"How can ye say such a thing? She's a proper young lady, she is," the housekeeper insisted. "Even if she is a bit odd. Not her fault. She was raised odd by them two aunts o' hers."
"I never said she weren't a proper young lady. But she's five-and-twenty and ain't got a prayer of ever gettin' herself married. Leastways she don't as long as she's got those three young hellions to look after. I'll wager she's havin' a grand time bein' ravished every night by a pirate. I can think of worse fates."
"Not for Miss Wingfield." There was genuine shock in the housekeeper's voice. "Ain't never been a word o' scandal about her and well ye know it. No, that bloody pirate is takin' advantage of her, he is. Lord only knows what he's doin' to her at night."
"Something interestin' I hope, for Miss Wingfield's sake."
Jared set his back teeth and stalked on toward his destination.
The scent of hay and manure greeted him a few minutes later as he walked into the shadowed stables. A sleek, well-muscled bay gelding whickered inquiringly and stuck his head over a stall door. Jared ran a critical eye over the expensive looking horse.
The sound of Pettigrew's voice came from a stall at the far end of the dimly lit stables.
"I've arranged to have the mare covered by Henninger's new stallion. He's a prime bit of blood and that's a fact. It'll cost me a packet, but it'll be worth it."
"Aye, sir."
"Did you get a new shoe on the bay's left fore?" Pettigrew emerged from the stall, a riding crop in his hand. He was followed by a short, wiry groom.
"Took 'em down to the blacksmith's yesterday," the groom said. "He's right as rain now, Mr. Pettigrew."
"Excellent. I mean to ride him in the local hunt next week." Pettigrew slapped his leg absently with the riding crop. "Let's have a look at the hounds." He squinted against the sunlight that poured through the stable door behind Jared. "What's this? Who's there?"
"Chillhurst."
"Chillhurst?" Pettigrew eyed him warily. "What the bloody hell are you doing in my stables?"
"I came to have a few words with you, Pettigrew."
"Now see here, I've got nothing to say to you. Get off my land."
"I'll leave soon enough but first there are a few things you ought to know." Jared flicked a glance at the sullen looking groom. "I suggest we have this conversation in private."
"Damned bloody arrogant tutor." Pettigrew scowled ferociously but he sent the groom from the stables with a flick of the small whip.
Jared waited until the groom had vanished through the door.
"I won't take up much of your time, Pettigrew. There are just two points I want to make. The first is that there are to be no more threats made to Miss Wingfield."
"Threats? How dare you, sir?" Pettigrew sputtered furiously. "I have never threatened Miss Wingfield."
"No, I believe you had your wife do the job for you," Jared said. "It does not signify. The only thing you need to remember is that the threats are not to be repeated, let alone carried out."
"Damnation. You're gettin' a bit above yourself, you bloody upstart bastard. What the devil are you talking about?"
"You know very well what I am talking about, Pettigrew. Miss Wingfield was told that unless she got rid of me, her nephews would be sent away."
"Miss Wingfield should get rid of you immediately," Pettigrew blustered. "You can hardly claim that you're a good influence on impressionable young boys. Or on an impressionable young woman, for that matter."
"Be that as it may, I shall be remaining in my position in the Wingfield household. And if you so much as even attempt to have the boys removed from Miss Wingfield's care, you will regret it."
Pettigrew narrowed his eyes. "I have known Miss Wingfield for years, sir. Indeed, I counted myself a friend of her aunts. I feel a responsibility to do what I believe is best for Miss Olympia. Furthermore, I do not intend to let you intimidate me, Chillhurst."