The Disgraceful Lord Gray

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The Disgraceful Lord Gray Page 17

by Virginia Heath


  * * *

  To say the next twenty minutes were tense would be an understatement. Lady Crudgington was late and his superior began to behave like a man jilted at the altar until she appeared on her pony, unrepentant, much closer to half past the hour, with the woman who had haunted his dreams smilingly trotting alongside on one of the biggest horses he had ever seen.

  His heart gave a tiny stutter at the sight of her. The fitted blue riding habit perfectly both highlighted her alluring, womanly curves and made her glorious hair pop in the hazy, early morning sunshine. On top of those untameable curls was a ridiculous little hat set at a jaunty angle, designed more for fashion than to cover the head. She looked delightful. Frivolous, saucy and dangerously confident. Damn her!

  Like Thea, Gray kept a polite distance as old Fennimore greeted Harriet and had to turn his back when he heard him mutter something cringing about propriety and being glad they both had had the foresight to bring chaperons.

  ‘You are so thoughtful, Cedric.’ Although as he’d suspected, the lady seemed vastly amused at the prospect. ‘But such nonsense is entirely unnecessary. One of the benefits of both age and widowhood is that propriety can be ignored. Something I try to do at every opportunity. Don’t you? Thea is here out of coincidence and nothing more. She’s off to the village to collect the post and called upon me as she had forgotten about our engagement. We shall be heading in a quite different direction, Cedric, I can assure you. I have a much more exciting route planned for us—but as Lord Gray is now set to ride, too, he might as well accompany Thea and leave us in peace, don’t you think?’

  By the stunned look on his face and the lack of words coming out of his mouth, Lord Fennimore had not expected that, but there was nothing he could do about it without appearing foolish, prudish and curmudgeonly. Harriet pointed a finger at Gray and winked, clearly enjoying leaving both men floundering on the back foot with her outrageous suggestion. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, young man. Which, granted, gives you quite a bit of scope.’ She nudged her pony forward with a grin as wide as it was naughty. ‘Come along, Cedric! Let’s see if you’re man enough to keep up with me!’

  Gray watched them leave while he considered his options. Riding all alone with the minx who continued to cause him insomnia was the last thing he should be considering. He could plead something more pressing to do and excuse himself, which in view of the current speed of his pulse was tempting, or he could accompany her. Something the devil-may-care, adventurous part of his nature was egging him on to do, but which scared the hell out of the rest of him. That route was unchartered and unpredictable territory, as well as a whole heap of temptation, yet there was no denying it was also the most prudent as far as his mission was concerned. If Lord Fennimore really did intend to use his morning gallop to probe Lady Crudgington for information, he should probably use this unexpected opportunity to do the same. Surely he could fight his urges on horseback? As long as he didn’t allow his eyes to linger on that very tight riding habit.

  ‘I can read your expression, Gray. If you’d rather not ride to the village with me, then I really do not mind.’

  ‘Up until thirty minutes ago, I was fast asleep and had no idea I was riding anywhere, but, seeing as I was dragged up and am dressed for it now, I might as well.’ Her huge horse was dancing around on the spot although she controlled it effortlessly. The smattering of white hairs on his chestnut muzzle were testament to his advanced age. ‘He’s skittish for a hunter.’

  ‘He always has been. Uncle Edward has a stable full of younger and more temperate horses, but Archimedes was my father’s and I am the only person who ever rides him. He would be miffed if I chose another.’ She smoothed a hand down his mane to calm him, then stared quizzically at the three Invisibles clearing and levelling the pasture close by. Because they had the appropriate audience, his men were working up quite a sweat.

  ‘My new exercise yard. The sand will be delivered later this week, so the ground needs to be prepared, then the posts for the fences dug. The stables are already in reasonable shape, so they’ll do well enough in the short term.’ Especially as his men had much better things to be doing with their day than prepping for horses that would never come. They were irked enough at the charade he was having them act out now. But it was better to be safe than sorry—although if he said so himself, it was the perfect place for an exercise yard. It caught enough of the early morning sun to be bright and airy, but was shaded by the house and the parallel copse of trees in the afternoon when the sun was at its hottest. And it was close enough to the brook to ensure a ready supply of cool, fresh water.

  Why had he put that much thought into giving credence to a lie? And why did the fact it was just a lie suddenly depress him when he looked at her? Gray grabbed his reins and heaved himself on to his own saddle. He was barely seated when his poorly behaved mutt flew like a cannonball into the yard, barking.

  Archimedes reared slightly, but again she controlled him as Trefor panted and wagged his tail far too close to the animal’s busy hooves, his devoted brown eyes locked on Thea adoringly. ‘I’m so sorry. I shut him in the house, but he has a talent for escaping.’ He called to one of his men, ‘Take the dog indoors!’

  ‘Oh, let him come with us.’ Thea bent down to pat Trefor’s bouncing head. The contact made him jealous. Of his blasted dog, for pity’s sake! ‘Archimedes was merely a little surprised. He’s fine now and I’m sure your delightful dog would enjoy a run to the village with us.’ True to her word, the old horse indeed seemed to have settled and was now simply glaring down at the dog in warning as they slowly ambled forward. As she was a few feet ahead, that meant he got to stare at the delectable peach that was her bottom. Capital!

  Gray set his jaw and prayed for strength, channelling all his lusty frustration into hating the talented seamstress who had created that seductive confection, reminding himself yet again that he really did need to work harder at being a better spy in the hope that would make his errant thoughts purer. Unsurprisingly, none of those things worked.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Coming here had been a mistake. Too forthright. A little bit needy. Impulsive, and probably made her shallow, selfish motives totally obvious. It was also completely out of character when she usually actively avoided all men. The wariness had given way to curiosity. He intrigued her. More than any man ever had before. The shameful truth was Thea had only offered to collect the post as a pathetic excuse to see him again—knowing full well he wanted to maintain a respectable distance. But after yesterday, and after thinking about him for most of the night, it had seemed a plausible enough reason to happen to be riding past at the time. She certainly hadn’t expected to do more than say a passing hello, exchange a few pleasantries, then be on her merry way, content that she had at least seen him. Then quietly sigh and swoon in private all the way home, just as she had all night. She hoped all that swooning was borne out of knowing him better and liking what she learned and not solely because he had declared himself off limits. But in her head alongside all the new regard she had for him, Gray had become forbidden fruit. Something she had a proven penchant for.

  Casually meeting him was hardly throwing herself at him, but she had not factored in Harriet’s matchmaking, nor Gray’s ingrained sense of decency, and now the poor man felt beholden to accompany her and clearly did not want to. ‘Something inexplicable about you calls to me and perhaps on a far deeper level than I care to admit.’ Words which still sang to her soul. That made her increasingly believe he was exactly what he claimed to be. Neither a fortune hunter nor a true scoundrel, but a man who saw past her fortune to the woman beneath. Gray was drawn to Thea. It was that simple and that glorious.

  ‘Was it me, or was your cousin a tad nervous this morning?’ She purposefully kept her conversation bright and friendly, hoping he wouldn’t realise she had only come here for him when he had made it plain he would prefer to have little to do with her. Bu
t he had called her beautiful. Beautiful and tempting and exactly the sort of woman he would choose to court if he had a mind to. Those were not the words of a man who disliked you. In fact, if anything they said quite the opposite. He was avoiding her because he liked her. To protect himself. Because he couldn’t trust himself to resist her. And to spare his heart. Yet instead of respecting his wishes, she was flagrantly going against them, claiming they were now friends when her body and mind clearly yearned for so much more. Was she here because she wanted to tempt him? To her shame and bubbling excitement, the answer was a definitive yes. She certainly wanted to tempt him to reconsider.

  ‘Nervous? I’ve never seen him in such a state. He changed his coat twice, ruined goodness knows how many neckcloths and doused himself in cologne. It was one of the funniest things I’ve seen in a long time. Lady Crudgington has a most peculiar effect on him.’

  ‘They were flirting yesterday on the lawn. Didn’t you see? I was surprised Harriet had returned until I saw Lord Fennimore. She loathes Aunt Caro’s friends and finds most of our neighbours boring, but she is very taken with him so she went against the grain and came back.’ She was babbling. A sure sign of her guilty conscience. ‘Decent gentlemen of a certain age are thin on the ground, or so she says, and she approves of the way he wears his breeches.’

  Images of Gray sans breeches suddenly swamped her mind and she felt a fraud for pretending to be his friend again, although he felt like a friend. A charming, handsome, intriguing, wholly male friend whose kisses were lethal. Was she wrong to indulge in a bit of harmless selfishness? When there was clearly a mutual attraction and regard between them? It wasn’t as if she intended to stomp all over him and force her will. Not even Impetuous Thea was capable of that! No—merely a little gentle prodding. Perhaps if they spent a little more time together, both of them would lower their defences and nature would take its course. That sounded much better. She would leave it to fate and hope that this time it would look upon her kindly.

  ‘His breeches? Good Lord.’ His shocked expression was comical. ‘Although I suppose he is in excellent shape for a man his age.’ He was riding so close to her that she could reach out and touch him if she had a mind to. She did, but neither Thea was brave enough. ‘I am convinced he is taken with her, too. I have seen him smile now on two separate occasions in her presence. It should also be noted, those are the only two occasions I have ever witnessed him smile.’

  They speculated on the unlikely romance between Lord Fennimore and Lady Crudgington for the first half a mile of the short ride to the village, almost as if both of them knew it was a much safer topic than anything else, when their last conversations had been so intensely personal and significant. Once that was exhausted, an odd tension settled between them. Of things unsaid, or maybe that was just her take on the silence or her own guilt for orchestrating the entire meeting in the first place. Rather than let it hang, it was Gray who blessedly broke it. ‘Why are you collecting the post rather than leaving it to a servant?’

  ‘My uncle is expecting a letter, one he has been quietly fretting about, so I offered to collect it and, knowing Harriet would leave your poor cousin waiting longer than necessary for her to turn up, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and chivvy her along.’ That did sound a more plausible excuse than forgetting Harriet and Lord Fennimore had a prior engagement, when it had been mentioned repeatedly in his presence yesterday at her aunt’s interminable garden party. ‘She has a dismissive relationship with clocks by and large and time keeping has never been her forte. As it was, even with my interference, she was significantly past fashionably late. Making the poor man suffer too long from Harriet’s tenuous grasp of time seemed unnecessarily cruel.’

  ‘Cruel—but entertaining. It made me glad he had woken me. That, and his request for me to be the chaperon. I’ve never been asked to be a chaperon before and never thought I would. It is those odd and wholly unexpected moments that make life so entertaining. I am the last person to ensure the correct proprieties are adhered to.’ His eyes flicked to hers, the flirtatious challenge in them instantly reminding her of exactly how many odd and wholly unexpected times he alone had tempted Impetuous Thea to stray. Except, right this second, it wasn’t exactly Impetuous Thea who controlled things, nor was it Sensible Thea. It was an odd amalgamation of the two which felt reassuringly like her old self. The Thea not jaded by fortune hunters, who never checked her temper or pithy comments in case they caused her poor uncle to keel over. The Thea who embraced life and enjoyed a little risk. Thrived on it. Hence her spur-of-the-moment decision to accompany Harriet and take a chance on a man she would never have considered anywhere near suitable only a few days ago.

  Before she wrestled Impetuous Thea back in her box, she stopped at the end of the meadow as the village came in sight and decided to ignore all the guilt and simply enjoy the moment. She was tired of being too buttoned up and suspicious. She was young, the sun was shining and the day felt much brighter than any had in a long time. She might not be ready to leap off the precipice, but she was certainly prepared to edge a little towards it. ‘This land is Colonel Purbeck’s. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer we skirt around the edges rather than cross it directly.’ Crossing it directly would also take half the time, when she was inclined to linger. ‘If he sees us, we’ll have to call on him and...well...’

  ‘The droning man spits when he talks.’

  ‘Precisely.’ She loved that he already knew her so well he could finish her sentences. She also loved the knowing smile she had only seen him use on her. The one that did odd things to her insides and made her forget all the reasons why she was supposed to be wary and suspicious. He didn’t behave like a fortune hunter. Nor did his past indicate that he’d attempt to be one. He had a healthy disrespect for money. And a committed aversion to marriage. One he had been completely honest about lest she not know exactly where she stood, yet she was stood here despite it. ‘Although he will be wounded when he learns Harriet prefers your cousin to him. Colonel Purbeck is also very taken with—’ The gunshot came out of nowhere, startling them both. As Trefor barked repeatedly in warning, Archimedes simultaneously reared, throwing Thea helplessly from his back.

  She landed with a dull thud on the grass, winded but otherwise intact, and managed to roll away a split second before one of his massive hooves hit her. Swiftly, she scrambled backwards and well out of his way, blinking and hearing only the sound of her rapidly beating heart.

  Her old hunter was in a blind panic. One that needed to be quickly controlled for all their sakes. Before she could pull herself to her feet, Gray slid off his horse, patting his horse’s flank to send it out of the way before he stepped bravely into the fray.

  ‘Trefor! Back!’ He pointed to where Thea now stood and the animal listened, instantly pressing his body against her legs as if protecting her for his master. After checking that she was all right, Gray motioned for her to stay put while he dealt with the frightened horse, something which worried her because Archimedes truly was skittish to the point of being outright temperamental. Especially around strange people.

  ‘Easy, boy.’ He kept his voice level and even, his palms up as he edged forward. It was obvious, despite her accusation to the contrary only a few scant days ago, Gray knew horses. ‘Easy... Shh.’ The erratic jumping was lopsided. Her big horse was hanging one leg at the rear. Not only was he panicked, he was injured and it was all her fault. She should have been paying closer attention. She never should have been here in the first place. ‘Good boy... Easy.’ He caught the trailing rein in his fist and wound it quickly around his hand to steady him, his other hand reaching out to stay the horse’s head. ‘Shh... It’s all right.’ Gray rested his forehead against his muzzle and dropped his voice to a whisper, breathing slowly to encourage the animal to do the same, a soothing technique she had never seen anyone use before.

  At first Archimedes fought him, then he slowly, miraculously, calmed.
‘Thea—take the reins.’ He waited for her to grab the slack before he risked unwinding his hand from the leather. ‘He’s hurt himself. The right fetlock. Hold him still while I check his leg.’

  ‘He’s lame!’ Once again, she had been self-indulgent in her pursuit of the forbidden and fate was punishing her. Yet she had wilfully ignored the nagging voice of doubt in her head. ‘Is it broken?’ Thea couldn’t hide the fear or the threatening tears from her voice as she stared on impotently. Archimedes was all she had left of her father. A broken leg would mean the old horse would need to be destroyed. She couldn’t bear yet another thing she loved leaving her because of her own reckless selfishness. Gray gently probed the swollen muscle, then risked manipulating the joint. The horse flinched and so did she.

  ‘I don’t think so. But he’s sprained it badly. He doesn’t want to put any weight on it. Probably turned it as he reared.’ He didn’t need to mention that bad sprains could also be dangerous. Especially on a horse as old as hers. What had she done? This was all her fault. ‘Let’s get him back to the hall so I can check him over properly.’

  Tentacles of panic wrapped around her organs that she tried to ignore. Panic was a selfish emotion and her innocent horse deserved better. ‘Our stables has a big cart. Certainly big enough for Archimedes. Shall I fetch it?’

 

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