Even the voice in his head sounded amazed and disgusted. You did it, didn’t you? You were scared she’d go with Byer so you just made sure she’d have no choice, didn’t you?
Get fucked. Godric pushed himself off the floor, deliberately keeping his back to the connecting door.
You coward; you’re too much of a coward even to admire your handiwork.
Godric’s gorge rose as he forced himself to turn and look at the connecting door: it was closed.
Well, good, then, that is done.
He dragged his aching body over to the window. The day was beautiful—just like a painting: cerulean blue skies with white puffs of clouds. The only sign it had been raining for the past three days was the unusual number of puddles, which sparkled like diamonds under the late day sun.
He’d done the right thing by her, no matter how much his words must have hurt her.
Bringing home a wife—even one as amusing as the woman only one thin door away—wouldn’t assuage his pain for long. She was vibrant and loving and would want and deserve an entire man, not a walking shell. She would come to hate him once the novelty wore off; bed sport would only hold a woman like that for so long.
She would need love, and as much as he might want to give it to her, he was no longer capable of the emotion. He knew what it was and could see it around him, but he was like a deaf man who’d once known music. What he knew now was only the echo.
In any event, the deed had been done; after what she’d just heard, she’d never want to look at him again, and he couldn’t blame her.
It was all for the best. Even if he’d not lost the ability to love, only an idiot would believe that loving yet another person was a cure for losing everyone he’d ever loved.
No. Loving another person just meant you had one more person to lose.
Chapter 22
Exham Castle, Devon
Eight Weeks Later
“Here you are. Why am I not surprised?”
Eva glanced up from the new mare their teaser stallion, Liberty, was currently courting, to Tommy, who was dressed as impeccably as usual. His coat sported no fewer than a dozen capes, his cravat was a white froth with some gemstone winking in its folds, and his high-crowned beaver tilted at just the right angle on his glossy brown locks.
Eva was exhausted just looking at him; it must have taken him two hours to reach such perfection.
“Hallo, Tommy, I’ll be just a minute.”
“How is she?” he asked, gesturing toward her newest acquisition.
“Just grand, isn’t she, James?”
“Aye, my lord. She’s a right ’un.”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed when he looked at the big groom, whom he’d not warmed to—a feeling he made no effort to hide.
Eva bit back the flare of irritation Tommy’s treatment of her best friend always sparked and turned to James, who was holding the mare’s lead. “Give me a moment.”
“Yes, my lady.” He bowed his head and humbly pulled his forelock, his lips pulled into a slight smirk that made Eva want to kick him. He’d been behaving like a groveling servant ever since Tommy had raked him over a few weeks earlier, reminding him—most insufferably—who was mistress and who was servant.
James had taken the bollocking in stride, as a good servant does. But Eva and Tommy had had their first major row; the outcome of which—five days of silence—demonstrated that both parties were equally stubborn.
Although James hadn’t said as much, Eva was left in no doubt of his feelings toward her betrothed of only two weeks.
Speaking of her betrothed . . . Eva met Tommy at the paddock gate and let him kiss her cheek.
“Eva, darling?”
“Hmmm?” She blinked up at him, her mind on the maiden mare James had just led away, rather than the six feet of male loveliness in front of her.
“I’m off to town to do some shopping for your stepmamma.” Eva could well imagine what was on that list: all items for the upcoming wedding. Mia didn’t care that the wedding was taking place in the castle chapel with only family and a handful of friends attending. After Catherine’s even smaller gathering earlier this year, Mia seemed determined to make the most of this opportunity. Eva would have thought her stepmamma’s recent delivery of a healthy son a few weeks earlier would have slowed the older woman down. But, no, Mia was a bundle of irrepressible energy and had focused her attention on making the most of this wedding.
Eva smiled up at Tommy. “Well, that’s good, then. I hope you have a fine time,” she finished lamely. She hoped she was successful at hiding her relief that he was spending his day elsewhere. The way he hovered around her was . . . suffocating, so a day free of said hovering would be a pleasant relief.
His perfect mask stayed in place, but she saw a glint of something not so placid behind the surface. “Are you sure you won’t join us—Melissa and me?”
Eva perked up. “Melissa is going with you? That’s good.” Eva needed to thank her sister for taking on so much of what she was beginning to think of as “the Tommy Burden.” She’d hoped he would be less demanding of her time when she’d accepted his third offer of marriage, but he seemed to become worse with each passing day.
“There’s room for one more,” he said with a cajoling smile.
“I can’t. But the two of you enjoy yourselves.”
He frowned. “I’ve gone in just about every day this past week—and Mel always accompanies me. You haven’t joined me one time, Eva. Don’t you think people will think it odd that you cannot accompany your betrothed on a shopping excursion meant for your own wedding?”
She felt a familiar flare of irritation. “I don’t care if it appears odd, Tommy. That’s another thing you seem to have conveniently forgotten about me since we’ve become engaged: my lack of interest in what other people think of me.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” He was beginning to look a bit strained around the eyes, so Eva curbed her temper. “You know I had to use every bit of persuasion with Sir Walter to let me have Clancy here, rather than bring the mares to him. So—” She trailed off, hoping he would put the pieces together.
“But I thought that was a few days off?”
“We want to clear the book before he gets here. You know how busy this time of year is. We’ve not only got four maidens to manage, but all of Papa’s stock, as well. James will need me as he’ll be teaching the other lads to work with Liberty so they’ll be able to take over teasing in the future.”
Liberty was their only teaser stallion—a horse who would spend time with each mare daily to determine when the mare came into estrus. Once the time was right, the breeding stallion would then be brought in to cover the mare. Proper teasing could not be rushed and it was labor-intensive, requiring expert handling of both teaser and mare.
Eva took off her hat and whacked it with her hand. “What I’d really like are two teasers, but of course we are nowhere near justifying such an expense. My father always allows his tenants to bring in mares around now, so we’ve got a whole list of those, too.” She mashed her hat back down on her head. “This is the end of breeding season, Tommy, and we are at our busiest.”
His full lips were compressed in a scowl. “And it’s necessary for you to be part of the activities?”
“Activities? You mean in the breeding shed?”
“Yes, Eva, that is what I meant. Will you, along with a handful of men, be present when a stallion mounts and covers mares?”
Eva had a genuine laugh at his prudery. “Lord, Tommy, how else did you think I proposed to breed horses?”
“I certainly did not expect you to be part of every aspect, no matter how low or vulgar.”
“You cannot be in earnest.” But his stern expression told her otherwise. Eva sighed. “You know this is the time of year that horses engage in their, er, low, vulgar activities. James and I have been run ragged managing the construction of the new breeding shed these past few weeks, as well as renting a stud, purchasing mares, and a dozen
other things. To be honest, I would rather not have begun our operations here only to have to remove them to Byer Court, but—” She broke off, sure he didn’t need that decision explained to him. “In any event, the mares are here and it’s already late in the season. I can’t wait until after I arrive at my new home.”
He held up a hand. “Very well, you needn’t get worked up about it.”
“Oh? Needn’t I? Because I feel as though we’ve discussed this subject repeatedly over the past two weeks since we agreed to marry. I began all this”—she waved to the area around them, to encompass her new breeding operation—“before I accepted your proposal, so it should come as no surprise to you what I am doing. And before I accepted your proposal, I made it very clear what my plans were and you made no demur. But every day you take issue more and more with what I am doing.”
The muscles in his jaws flexed, his elegant nostrils flaring. “Yes, you are quite correct. I suppose I just thought your interest in the matter would be more, er, well, at a remove.” He grimaced. “Blast it, Eva, you know what I’m saying. How many women do you think spend time not only selecting their own bloodstock but then participating in shoeing, training, and breeding them?”
She crossed her arms and tilted her head as she stared up at him. “I don’t know, Tommy. I’ve not taken a survey on the subject. How many?”
He pulled off his hat and shoved his hand through his hair, mussing the perfection. “For the life of me I cannot think what possessed your father to grant you such liberties. I’m sure that when Gabe arrives, he will agree with what I’m saying and—”
“First of all, I am guessing you would be very, very off in your estimation if you think Gabe would be anything but supportive. And second, I don’t care what his—or anyone else’s—opinion is.”
“Not even mine?”
Eva ignored his question and asked one of her own. “Tell me, Tommy,” she asked in a low, silky tone. “Is it your intention to curtail my unseemly activities once I am your chattel under the law?”
“That is unkind, Eva. You know I would do no such thing.”
“I don’t know anything of the sort. And this conversation has brought my ignorance home to me. You are ashamed of what I am doing. You are worried how it shall look to your tenants, your relations, your friends—whomever else you consider important.”
“Someone needs to be concerned. You show no interest in anyone’s opinions other than your bloody stable boy’s.”
“You cannot be jealous of James.”
“Don’t be foolish,” he snapped. “Just because I find your behavior inappropriate does not mean I am jealous of a stable lad.”
“Well. I’m relieved to hear it. By the by, James is not a stable lad. He’s been a groom for several years already and he is now the manager of my small operation—an operation which employs four people at this point and I hope will have five times that number in a few years.” Eva took a step toward him, angrier than she’d been since that day at the Greedy Vicar Inn—the day when Tommy had gone to Godric and forced him into a conversation that he’d had no right to initiate.
A conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear, but one that certainly set you straight, didn’t it?
Eva ignored the dig and focused on the matter at hand. “If you have an issue with my behavior, now is a very good time to bring it up, Tommy. The wedding is still days away,” she reminded him. “There is plenty of time to change our minds.”
Tommy’s face softened as he looked down at her, and then he cupped her jaw with one large, kid-sheathed hand. It was all Eva could do not to yank herself away. “I’m sorry, Eva. You are correct. I’m behaving like a fool. It’s just—well, it seems you have more interest in spending time in the stables than you do with me.”
That was true, but it was hardly politic to admit it. Instead she brought up another matter she wanted to keep at the forefront of his mind. “You promised me that you had no expectations, Tommy. You promised me we would enter this marriage as friends.”
He swallowed hard enough for her to hear it. “I know I did. And you are right to bring me up short for my behavior. I’m afraid I can’t stop myself from wanting more of you, and yet you will hardly let me touch you—even to kiss you.”
Which was exactly what she was afraid of. It was also exactly what her stepmamma—the only one other than Eva and Tommy who knew the truth—had warned her.
“You just kissed me a moment ago,” Eva said, although she knew what he meant.
“I want you properly,” he murmured in a low, hungry voice. He lowered his mouth slowly enough over hers that she could have easily moved away. But she didn’t. Not because she wanted him, but because it would soon be her duty to submit to kisses and more.
His mouth was soft and warm, his lips fuller than Godric’s. The sensation of his body pressing gently against hers was not unpleasant. When it appeared he would not open his mouth, she flicked her tongue between his lips. His body momentarily stiffened, but he didn’t push her away. Instead, he pulled her closer.
His hand slid around her head and his fingers bunched in her hair as he took control of the kiss. The sensation was pleasant and he was most certainly skilled at making love with his mouth. Eva softened against him, allowing him to take her in his arms, his body big and hard and warm against hers, his arms taut with the barely leashed passion she evidently ignited in him.
The cool mental observation made her release his broad shoulders, which she’d grasped without realizing, and squirm in his grasp.
He let go and stepped back, his pupils huge, his pale cheeks flushed with arousal rather than irritation for a change. He stroked his thumb over her chin, his lids heavy and desire rolling off him in waves.
“By God, you are—” He stopped and shook his head, his expression a complex blend of lust, frustration, and more besides.
Eva slid her hand around his wrist—elegantly sheathed in butter-soft leather—and gave him a squeeze before setting his hand aside.
“There, we’ve kissed, Tommy. And when we are man and wife, I will give you all of myself that I have to give—my body and my friendship, but not, I hope you know, my love. I am not insensible to the sacrifice you are making—no,” she said when he opened his mouth to demur, “it is a sacrifice, and I am grateful. But I will not lie to you about the way I feel. Nor will I give up this.” She waved her hand to encompass everything around them. “If you do not want a horse breeding operation at Byer Court, you should tell me now.”
His lips curved and he suddenly resembled the old Tommy—the one before this fiasco with Godric—her brother’s amusing friend whom she’d enjoyed teasing about his rotten taste in cattle and impeccable taste in clothing. “Don’t be silly, Eva—I can hardly wait to see the stables restored to their prior glory, and it will be a perfect place to house all the horses even you can accumulate.” He raised her hands to his mouth and lowered his head to kiss her fingers, and then stopped. “Lord! What happened here?”
She glanced at the crushed fingernail he was eying with horror; it was torn and there was a purple bruise blooming beneath the nail.
“I was helping shoe Hedge Bird and my hand got in the way.”
Tommy grimaced—whether at her confession, or the name of her mare, she wasn’t sure. Once again a glimmer of irritation showed. “You’d better wear gloves or you’ll have hands like hooves, darling.” He smiled while he chided her, but Eva knew he was appalled. “And I really wish you’d let the lads handle jobs of that sort. If James isn’t sufficient you can always—”
“James is more than sufficient.” She tugged her hands away.
He opened his mouth, as if he might argue, but then smiled and said, “Come, walk me to my chariot.”
A snug little curricle waited in the courtyard, her sister already ensconced on the richly padded seat. The chestnuts were fine high-steppers that had more looks than wind: her husband-to-be was not, lamentably, much of a judge of horseflesh.
“Hallo
, Mel.”
“Hallo, Eva.” Her younger sister smiled, her gaze questioning as it flickered across Eva’s person, lingering on her face and then moving to Tommy’s. A frown marred her smooth forehead and Eva wondered if her lips looked as recently kissed as Tommy’s. While not censorious, Mel’s glance was still not approving. Mel had never been so judgmental before, but ever since Eva had come back from her adventure, she’d felt as if there was a gulf separating her and her sister.
“Thank you for going with Tommy to take care of the things that I should be handling,” she said.
Mel’s golden, freckled cheeks—so much a bane to her sister—darkened slightly. “I’m happy to do it.”
“And she is excellent company and keeps me from choosing the wrong color ribbon and endangering my life with the marchioness,” Tommy added with a valiant smile. “Oh, I say—did I remember the list, Mel?”
Her sister’s rather serious expression lighted and Eva was momentarily stunned by her sudden . . . animation.
Mel held up a piece of paper filled with writing. “You took it as far as the great hall, where you proceeded to leave it on one of the side tables. Fortunately for you, I am not such a scatterbrain.”
He laid a hand over his heart. “What would I do without you? Likely be skewered on a spit by your delightful stepmamma.”
Mel giggled and Tommy put a boot that was as highly polished as glass on the footboard and gracefully swung himself up. He smiled down at Eva, a perfect London dandy. “Can I bring you anything from town?”
She glanced back at Mel, who was still glowing from the brief exchange, her eyes riveted to Tommy. “Er, surprise me,” Eva said, stepping back from the carriage.
He touched the brim of his high-crowned hat and then nodded. “Let ’em go, Boothe.”
Mel shrieked with delight and seized her bonnet as the elegant curricle leapt away. Eva watched until the carriage disappeared beyond a stand of elms, and then she turned and slowly walked toward the sprawling stables, her brain awhirl. But the sight that met her when she entered the spacious breeding shed put all other thoughts from her mind.
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