Angelique glanced down at herself.
“It seems that I am borrowing rather a lot of your family’s old things today.”
Lucas eyed her appreciatively.
“Glad they have not gone to waste. I knew that there was a reason I kept them.”
She laughed up at him.
“So you planned my kidnap when you were about fifteen? You must have been to a gypsy and had your fortune told, or rather Lord Trenchard must have had his fortune told, and being his friend you knew you would have to help him out of his predicament.”
Lucas tilted his head as he brushed the horse’s back prior to gently placing the saddle.
“Forgive me for mentioning it, but you don’t seem unduly upset about his desertion.”
She held Molly steady as she answered.
“I’m not. Not really. I should have refused him in the first place. It was a simple misunderstanding. I was a little overwhelmed by his apparent ardour. If I had known that my brother was forcing him into it, I would never have agreed to his proposal.”
Lucas felt his knees go weak. He hadn’t expected that answer. Now that he had heard it, he couldn’t stop the rush of relief that swept through him.
He bent to take hold of the strap hanging below Molly’s stomach.
“Here, this is the girth, buckle it.” He handed her the leather strap. “Not too tightly yet. Let her release a breath. Good.” He watched as Angelique gave Molly a reassuring stroke. “We’ll adjust the stirrups when you are astride. Come, you can lead her to the paddock.”
Angelique took the bridal and encouraged the willing Molly out of the stall.
“Why can I not mount her now? I don’t recall my father or brother ever waiting until they went to a paddock.”
Lucas tapped his heel on the hard cobbles.
“Just in case you slide right off again. The paddock has a marginally softer landing than these.”
It was only as they reached the paddock that Lucas thought about how Angelique was actually going to mount Molly. He looked about for a mounting block and almost rolled his eyes at his own foolishness. He wasn’t even sure he owned one. When he had been a child learning to ride, either the stable master or his grandfather simply gave him a leg up. He remembered the technique well enough, but the position he would be in, be it for only a few seconds, would only add to his torture.
He didn’t recall telling her where to place her hands, but he must have said something for the next moment he was bending, clasping his fingers together, with one of her hands braced on his shoulder, and the other on the saddle.
And the crotch of his own old riding breeches right in front of his face.
Cursing beneath his breath, he barely registered her weight as she raised her foot and stepped into his hand, but the next moment she was up, smiling gleefully from astride Molly’s back.
“This is so exciting! I am so high! I want to feel the wind in my face as we gallop along!”
The smile on her face nearly broke his heart, and he tried to recall the day he had first been on horseback. Had he felt that thrill, that depth of joy? He simply couldn’t remember. He had ridden in front of his father from almost the moment he could walk until his grandfather had given him his first pony.
Lucas adjusted first one stirrup, then walked around Molly’s head to alter the other. He took hold of the bridal and attached a lead rope.
“You hold the reins, but let’s try walking before we run,” he advised as he began to lead the gentle Molly in a circle. He needn’t have worried. Angelique sat like a queen on her throne, back straight, shoulders relaxed, body moving in a gentle rhythm with the movement of the horse.
It wasn’t long before he felt confident enough for her to try alone and, after some instructions on how to steer her mount, Angelique guided Molly around the paddock, first in one direction, and then in the other.
Lucas leaned against the rail to watch her, his confidence rising with every moment that passed. She had poise, grace, a certain freedom of movement that he found hard to explain. When Molly suddenly began to trot, Lucas’ heart leapt to his mouth, but Angelique’s smile only became wider, as her hair fell from its bun, dropping to her waist.
It was only when Molly suddenly tossed her head, breaking into a run that Angelique’s smile dropped. Lucas shouted as he launched himself from the rail, sprinting as hard as he could to catch up, but it was already far too late. Molly had the bit between her teeth and was speeding up with every stride.
As they closed on the rail, Lucas thought his heart was about to stop. If Molly jumped, Angelique was sure to fall. If the horse decided it wasn’t going over, sure as chickens laid eggs, Angelique would end up over the horse’s head, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
With disaster about to strike, he ran as hard as he could even knowing that he could do nothing to stop the inevitable, but another horseman suddenly appeared out of nowhere. A great stallion jumped the paddock rail, turning hard as it landed and immediately catching up with Molly. The unknown visitor stretched out a hand and caught hold of the bridle, quickly bringing the errant horse to a stop.
Lucas skidded to a stop beside them just as a now grinning Angelique unwrapped her arms from around Molly’s neck.
“Good heavens! What an unexpected thrill! But I do thank you for coming to my aid.” She brushed her hair back from where it had fallen across her glowing face and looked up at the newcomer. Her smile dropped. Lucas looked up too. His heart gave a great lurch as familiar brown eyes scowled down at him.
“Where the hell have you been!” Lucas bit out the words as a clearly furious Pierce Trenchard dismounted his horse.
Chapter Nine
The Benefits of Fine Brandy
“What in blue blazes did you think you were doing with my fiancée! And why in God’s name was she wearing men’s clothing. Your clothing!” He pointed an accusatory finger. “I’d know those boots she had on anywhere!” Pierce threw back his second glass of brandy and helped himself to another before he began pacing Lucas’ study once again.
Lucas tipped back his own drink and slammed the glass down on his desk.
“So she’s your fiancée again now? You will make up your damned mind soon. Last I heard you were desperate to get rid of her.” He lowered his voice as Pierce glanced nervously at the closed door.
“Well, that was before I spoke to her brother again. I have five days to marry her, four now that I have spent one getting here, before I lose a leg. And don’t even think about telling me that he’s joking. Two of his lackeys have wooden limbs. I saw them, and I have no wish to join them in wearing the less than elegant below knee accessories. Besides which, my mother is on the warpath. She wants to make some massive song and dance over me becoming leg-shackled to the princess!” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Naturally, given the circumstances, I would rather keep the whole sordid affair quiet. I have the marriage licence here and intend doing the deed in your chapel, with you standing beside me and the minimum amount of witnesses able to pontificate on my downfall.” He sank the third brandy in one quaff.
The rage boiled, swallowing Lucas’ disappointment before he could stop it. His fist landed square in Pierce’s stomach as he yelled.
“You self centred, unfeeling, mind numbingly stupid pile of horse dung!”
Pierce could only gasp like a stranded fish in response. His legs gave way beneath him and he sat down heavily on a chair. Crumpling, his arms folded across his stomach, he rocked himself forward and back. It was several moments before he knew that the brandy wasn’t going to come back up.
“What the hell was that for? I need your support, not a ruptured spleen to add to my mounting injuries.” He groaned miserably.
Lucas held onto his temper by a thread.
“And Angel? Who is giving her any support? How do you think she feels about being shoved about from pillar to post at the whim of her brother, her fiancé, and even me! Fool that I was
for becoming involved in this ridiculous scheme!” He shouted as he threw himself into his own chair, grabbing up the bottle of brandy, more to keep himself from thumping his friend again than any other reason.
Pierce caught his breath at last and glanced over at his friend, dark eyebrows set in a curious frown.
“Angel?”
Lucas waved one hand in dismissal as he poured himself another glass of the amber liquor.
“Just a pet name. She asked me to call her by it.” He stretched the truth a fraction, not wanting to admit that he had been calling her Angel in his head since the day he had first met her.
Pierce’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.
“She did? Well I never! It took me three weeks to get past a very formal Miss Lancer, and then to only call her Angelique, but you are calling her Angel within five days! What did you say or do to her that I didn’t?” He grabbed the bottle back.
Lucas glared.
“Well, maybe I treat her as another human and not some kind of skivvy or parcel to be passed about by whoever feels like it. Did you know that before now she had only ever mucked out her father’s stables? Today was the first time she had actually been on horseback?” More of the brandy disappeared.
Pierce tried standing straight and finished yet another glass.
“No, I didn’t know that, but it will be the last time she is ever on one again, I can assure you. She had absolutely no control and would have fallen if I hadn’t arrived in the nick of time. Could have broken her neck! You were meant to be looking after her not putting her in any danger. I can’t believe you let someone as delicate as Angelique do anything so foolhardy. And especially not whilst wearing those clothes. My eyes nearly burned from my head when I realized who it was wearing them. You could see everything, absolutely everything!” He puffed out a breath and blinked hard as if remembering the moment before drinking another measure.
Lucas stood up to protest.
“She was perfectly well covered and you know it. And she was in perfect control until Molly decided to go for a gallop. After your stallion as it turns out! The mare is in heat. She was only following her instincts. Why do you think I had kept Blaze well out of the way? Angel was doing wonderfully until you turned up. In fact, she has one of the best seats I have ever seen for someone so inexperienced. A little more practice and she will be a fabulous horsewoman.”
Pierce snorted.
“Ha! Well, you can forget that. Practice indeed! She was not in control. She could have died! Lord only knows what Harold, the blasted Peckham Pulveriser, would do to me if that happened. He would probably want both legs and my arms too!” He suddenly shuddered, became very pale, and swayed as he reached for the brandy bottle again.
Lucas snatched it from his desk, taking it to the drinks cabinet where he locked it inside the cupboard.
“For God’s sake, man. It’s barely past one. And that’s my best brandy you are quaffing like it was cheap ale on a hot day! Do you only ever think of yourself?”
Pierce stomped over to the cabinet and unlocked it again. He ignored Lucas’ disapproving glare and took the brandy bottle out.
“It is indeed very fine, but you can afford it. I know that Ivan always lays a side bet on you losing. The way you have won everything in the past, the odds on you losing must have been incredible. You two must have made a fortune on that last bout even though you were knocked out in the third round.” He raised a satisfied eyebrow at Lucas’ non-committal cough. “But all bets aside, tell me who you would be thinking about if you had been threatened with im...imminent dismemberment.” His tongue faltered slightly, but he ploughed on. “Besides, I am thinking of Angelique too. She wouldn’t want to be saddled with a limb...limbless man for the rest of her life.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head before pouring himself another generous measure and swallowing it down.
Lucas gave up and tipped the last of the bottle into his own glass.
“I would be surprised that she wants to be saddled with any man at all after hearing what her father did to her and her mother.”
Pierce frowned deeply.
“What did he do? Thought he was an all right sort. No one ever said any diff...different. Doesn’t your mother know the family? Surely she would have said something if there had ever been any suggez...suggestion of miz...mistreatment.” His mouth suddenly couldn’t seem to form coherent words.
Lucas opened another bottle of brandy and refilled his friend’s glass before topping up his own.
“Mother knows the old earl’s aunt...or sister, or some such.” He scratched his head as he tried to recall the relationship. “But he wasn’t likely to admit beating his wife, or keeping his daughter as a prisoner. She had never been outside the Landsdowne estate until she came to London after Harold inh...inher, inherited the title.” His own tongue faltered as a yawn threatened to crack his jaw. He shook his head to clear the fatigue suddenly fogging his brain. “Spent practically her whole life reading to pass the time. Except when she was clearing out the stables.”
“Clearing the stables?” He pulled a face at the thought. “Good Lord! I had no idea. No wonder she prefers books. I’ll have to make sure to keep up with all the new pub...publications.” Pierce drank another glass of the heady liquor.
Lucas snorted into his glass.
“I’m not sure that she wants to read any longer. She has only glan...glanced in the library here once. I think she wants to have an ad... an adventure. That’s why I, meaning me, not my eye. I was teaching her to ride.” He stabbed his fingertip into his chest, surprising himself when it hit sooner than he thought and the finger bent back. “Ouch.” He peered at his finger and then at his chest before downing the rest of the glass.
Pierce sniggered before throwing his arms wide.
“All right. I admit that riding is more exciting than reading, but you could have given her one of Dais...Daisy’s old habits rather than your own britch...britches! Did you even notice how revealing they were.” He gave a lazy grin as he topped his glass off again, clearly enjoying the memory.
Lucas also remembered the sight of Angelique’s shapely body all too well. His eyebrows became a black line and he almost wished that Pierce hadn’t turned up while she was wearing them. But it was a stupid sentiment. Lucas knew she could have been seriously injured if his friend hadn’t arrived at that precise moment. Still, he couldn’t let the remark go unanswered.
“You shouldn’t have been looking. She’s snot, er, I mean not...she’s not your wi...wife yet, you know.” He wriggled his errant jaw back into line.
Pierce prodded the folded sheet of paper now lying on the desk between them.
“Could be in the next arf...half an hour. I can f...fill in our names while you can zummon the preacher. Might as well get the inev...inevitable over with.” He slung back another glass.
Lucas joined him. The brandy soured on his tongue, but he forced it down.
“Old Roberts from the village will do it, if he’s still alive. Think he was about a hundred when I was last down here. Remarkable longevity considering his propensity for indulgence in the communion wine.” Even more remarkable that his tongue formed his words correctly, but the thought of a special licence had sobered him slightly. He blinked in surprise at himself before continuing. “But I’ve not heard anything to say he has taken his place in heav..heaven.” His mind dulled again. He couldn’t say if the sick feeling in his stomach was from the brandy or the thought of Angelique marrying his friend. With luck, Roberts would object to marrying the couple at such short notice. Or perhaps he was already sitting drunk over his next sermon. Or there was the chance that Angelique might refuse. She had said that she wouldn’t have accepted Pierce’s proposal if she had known the true circumstances of how it was given. Hope surged through Lucas, but died again when Pierce waved the licence with apparent enthusiasm.
“Excellent! Wouldn’t want anything to hold the wedding up. If Angelique doesn’t return to town by next week, with a weddi
ng ring firmly on her finger, I will be hel...held down by however many of his men it takes, and apparently have my lower limb removed at the knee. He said that he would do the job himself and use a rust...a rusty bread saw! Even showed me the damn thing!” He sank low in the chair and shuddered at the thought.
Lucas winced as he closed his eyes and leaned back. He put his feet up on his desk and drank yet another glass.
“Nice! Such a pleas...pleasant fellow, and cer...certainly an interesting addition to your family. At least he has confirmed that he’s not coming here.”
Pierce shook his head far too violently and ended up cricking his neck. He rubbed the spot between his shoulder and neck hard before answering.
“Lord no! I might be in a pick...pickle, but do have some stand...standards. Wasn’t going to bring you into it if I didn’t have to. I managed to appease the fellow by showing him the spe...special licence.” He burped gently and reached out again. More of the brandy disappeared.
Lucas rocked back in his chair and only just managed to save himself from falling backwards. His arms whirled and his glass went flying as the chair legs thumped back down. He ignored the sound of it smashing in the fireplace. Had Pierce thrown out another lifeline. He leaned forward eagerly.
“So why can’t we all just stay here and hi...hide as we planned. If he doesn’t know where we are, he can’t come to dis...dismem...dismemble... er, cut up anyone.” He rotated his jaw and snapped it shut.
Pierce looked in surprise at his once again empty glass. He lifted it up and peered at the bottom, as if checking for a hole, before speaking again.
“Would you take the chance? The man’s completely der...derran...deranged. And those wooden legs were real enough. Horrible, stumpy, wood...woodworm infested things.” He gave another involuntary shudder and then hiccupped as he leaned over to pull the bell. Henry appeared some seconds later.
A Ring of Midnight Orchids: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 3) Page 11