Secure in the knowledge he would have no trouble finding someone to warm his bed, he turned his attention to more conventional pursuits. “Well, Horsham, where are you keeping the best brandy? If I have to drink anymore of this blasted lemonade, I will throw myself through the window.”
William turned with a smile. “One moment, Landis. Let me introduce Nicholas Beecham, my soon-to-be brother-in-law. And this is Sir Beecham, Nicholas’s father.”
Dare dipped a bow at each of them. They were obviously father and son, both with thinning sandy hair and ruddy cheeks. While Nicholas had a slender frame at the moment, he was sure to descend into stoutness in time, like his father.
“This scoundrel is Adair Landis, one of my oldest friends. Since you have no daughters, Sir Beecham, I can refrain from my usual warning, although I’d still suggest you keep a fair distance between him and Lady Beecham.”
William chuckled, while Dare inclined his head in silent acknowledgement. No point in arguing with the truth. Married women were often his most enthusiastic conquests.
“You’ll be joining us tomorrow for the hunt, won’t you, Landis?” William inquired.
“Naturally. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Be careful out there,” warned Sir Beecham. “You’ll want to keep an eye out for poachers this year.”
“Poachers? How strange,” said William. “It’s been a good season this year. No need for poaching when the weather’s good.”
“Still, we’ve heard some shots at odd times. Found a few winged birds that weren’t properly taken.”
“Last time we had poachers was during the drought of 1811. Remember how bad things got? The lake damn near dried up.”
“Good God, yes,” Dare exclaimed. “The stench was horrendous. Half-dead fish flopping around in the muck. Smelled like a London wharf.”
“We had to send our horses to Franklinshire to graze. Nothing here but stubble.” William sighed. “Couldn’t ride for almost a month.” Turning to his left, he said, “Not a bad summer for you though, eh, Godwin? Weather was much nicer in Scotland, from what I heard. Very fruitful.”
Thomas nodded before turning to shoot a smile in his wife’s direction. “It was a very nice summer indeed.”
“I sense there’s a story here,” said Nicholas.
“Yes, that was the summer Thomas went up to his estate in Scotland with his sister, thereby depriving me of her treasured company for almost two months,” Joseph moaned.
Thomas rolled his eyes. “You survived quite well, and her absence probably helped your suit more than your constant presence.”
“Yes, well, regardless of that fact,” William continued, “Thomas took his sister Briar and her two friends, Abby and Constance, to Scotland. After their lives were threatened by a disreputable land agent, he acted the hero, saved Abby’s life, and managed to make her fall in love with him.”
“What I don’t understand is why she continues to feel that way, now that you’re back home. I thought surely she’d come to her senses,” Dare said.
“Now don’t be such a humbug, Landis. Just because you weren’t able to pull off the same trick with her sister, don’t begrudge Thomas his happiness,” William retorted.
Dare flashed his friend a look that would terrify most people, but William took no notice.
Abby chose that moment to join them.
“Good evening, sirs. I had the strangest feeling I was the subject of your conversation and wanted to know if the sentiments were good or bad.”
Thomas laid a gentle hand on her waist. “Always good, my dear. We were discussing our first trip to Scotland.”
“Oh yes, what an adventure. We thought we were being very discreet, trying to refrain from a courtship to protect our sisters’ sensibilities, and all the while Constance and Briar were plotting to throw us together.”
“Where is your sister, Abby? Surely, Constance will be joining us for the wedding,” Joseph asked.
“No, I’m afraid not. She has found she is with child again. She had a bit of a difficult time with Emmy, and Jonathan urged her to stay home to rest.”
Dare was unable to prevent a flare of disgust at the thought. “Breeding more peasants, I see.”
Thomas took a menacing step toward him. “I’ll thank you to remember that is my sister-in-law you are referring to. Don’t think for a moment the fact we are friends would prevent me from running you through.” At that, he rested his hand on the sword that he wore, a holdover from his days as a soldier.
Unperturbed, Dare returned his stare. Thomas was fully capable of striking him down without a second thought, but Dare had no interest in ruining his evening over a distant memory. Turning to Abby, he executed the slightest of bows, and with as minimal scorn as he could muster, responded, “My apologies. Please offer your sister my felicitations.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the group.
He strolled to the opposite corner of the room, and had just taken a pinch of snuff, when a hand squeezed his arm. He glared down into the face of a dark-haired beauty.
“Don’t worry, milord, I’m not going to take you to task. Quite the contrary. I couldn’t be in more agreement with you regarding your disgraced ladyfriend. Why in heaven’s name she would settle for a servant when she could have had”—her eyes took a long slow walk over Dare’s form—“you. That, I will never understand.”
“Ah, Miss Berkshire. How are you?”
“Lady Wilshire, if you please. You’ll remember I have been married for three seasons now.”
“As you say. Difficult to remember as you are never seen together in any pursuits.”
“Yes, it works well for us. I now have a fortune, he has respectability, and we are both free to pursue our own interests.” She ran her small gloved hand over the sleeve of his jacket. “Do you have any interests here, Lord Landis?”
The seductive smile and sweep of her thick lashes across her rosy cheeks left no doubt as to her meaning. Her red dress was rather bold for a country gathering, but it set off her creamy skin, and the red ribbon threaded though her dark hair made a striking contrast. While Dare had avoided the lovely Miss Berkshire while she was searching for a husband, she now presented a delightfully unencumbered opportunity.
Perhaps it was time to take advantage of a longing that had simmered for years. He pitched his voice low. “And the respectable Lord Wilshire…?”
“Is most decidedly occupied…as long as the spirits continue to flow.” She gave a pointed glance toward a rotund gentleman at the far end of the room. Said gentleman was flushed and unsteady, draining a glass of Madeira as if on cue.
Dare leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “You do know that respectability is not something I value. In fact, I find it quite dull. Are you certain you can suppress that element of your personality, at least for the evening?”
She gave a throaty chuckle. “That should not be a problem.”
She took a step toward the door and then raised her fan up to her face. Two flicks of the wrist were followed by a sigh. “La, I fear this room is getting warm. I believe I may need to lie down for a few moments before dinner. Will you excuse me?” Her eyes brazenly roved over his figure before she turned and glided out the door.
Dare watched her leave, noting the sway of her hips. He sipped his drink, enjoying the anticipation. When the glass was empty, he placed it on the footman’s tray and slipped out of the room. He headed up the staircase to the guest rooms. A quick glance at the row of doors showed that Lady Wilshire was a woman with experience. The red ribbon that had been weaved through her hair peeked out of a doorway on the far left of the hall. Perfect.
He pressed open the door, taking the ribbon with him. Lady Wilshire was stretched out on the bed, a shapely calf peeking out from under her skirt.
“I understand you are feeling a bit warm. Perhaps I can help you out of your dress, so you’ll be more comfortable.”
With a wicked smile, she raised her arms and drew him to her
.
In the distance, a dinner bell stirred them from their lethargy. “Well, my dear, it appears we have other appetites that need sating. I fear that the Horsham’s chef will have quite a time topping my last meal.”
“Mmm. No need to go. I can ring to have a tray brought up.” Lady Wilshire snuggled closer to his chest, gripping the fine lawn of his shirt. “Much as I enjoyed the blindfold, I’d like to see you this time.”
He grabbed her hands before they could remove the red ribbon he’d tied around her head. Sitting up, he smoothed his shirt down with one hand before slipping the cloth from her eyes. “I think not.”
In fact, that was definitely not going to happen. He climbed out of bed and reached for his breeches.
She hadn’t gotten the message. She sat up and raised an arm to stroke his back. “I’m sure we won’t be missed.”
Before she could touch him, he twisted away to don his pants. “You may not be missed, but I most certainly will be.”
As expected, that did not sit well with her. She glared up at him, her eyes narrowed to slits. “So, what they say is true. You use women for your enjoyment and then leave without the slightest care.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You appeared to gain some enjoyment, Lady Wilshire. I cannot imagine you expected us to form a lasting entanglement.”
Giving him her finest pout, she responded, “Not a lasting one perhaps, but I’m sure a repeat performance would be mutually satisfying.”
“Perhaps another time. For now, I require some proper nourishment.” He pulled on his boots, grabbed the remainder of his clothes, and strolled out the door.
By the time he reached the bottom of the staircase, he’d tied his cravat, straightened his cuffs, and run his fingers through his hair, assuring it was neatly arranged. Entering the dining room, he took his seat without a word. When William caught his eye, Dare raised his glass and gave him a satisfied smile. His friend chuckled and returned to his soup.
Chapter 8
The morning was overcast, but that wouldn’t deter her. Nivea had been awake for quite awhile, listening to the sounds of the men as they prepared for one of the Horsham’s favorite pursuits—hunting. Yet another passion Nivea did not share nor understand. But their absence provided her with a perfect opportunity to pursue her plan. Now that she had overcome her loathing of horses, she had decided to become a more proficient rider. She donned a riding habit she’d found buried in the back of the wardrobe and headed toward the stables.
“Why, Miss Horsham, what can I do for you?” The stable hand gaped at her in astonishment as she approached the stalls.
“I would like you to saddle a horse please. Something fairly tame, perhaps like Buttercup’s Bloom, here,” she answered, pointing to a mare even she could tell was well past her prime.
The groom scratched his head. “You want me to saddle a horse…for you?” He glanced around for another possible rider.
Nivea couldn’t fault the man for his confusion, although it did sting. Except for dragging her brother from the building, she hadn’t set foot in the stable for years. And until Dare insisted, it had been over a decade since she’d climbed on one of the beasts. But she was determined to go through with this.
“Yes. I would like you to saddle a horse. For me.”
He shrugged and did as she bid. He led a sedate Buttercup to the mounting block, and after a few attempts, managed to shove her up onto the saddle.
Wiping his brow, he looked up at her with concern. “Would you be likin’ Seth to ride with you?”
Answering with far more confidence than she felt, she said, “No, that won’t be necessary. I won’t go far.”
Turning the horse away from the house, she nudged Buttercup forward, hoping no one would spot her. She knew her father had been surprised to see her riding the other day. What she wanted now was to gain enough skill so she could join the family for a ride. They were as comfortable riding as walking and could travel for hours without complaint. She used to joke that if her father could find a way to sleep while riding, he would live on his horse.
Her aspiration was much less lofty. She would be happy if she could mount the thing with a modicum of grace, keep it from eating grass, and maybe even coax it into a trot, if necessary. Of course, if she managed to slim down a teeny bit more in the process, so much the better.
She headed toward the lake, where the view of the house would be blocked by trees. The sun was warm on her face, but a cool breeze blew off the water. Buttercup was well behaved, requiring the bare minimum of instruction. Once she made it into the shadowed area, Nivea looked for a stump or log to begin her first lesson. On the left, she spotted a large stone and steered her horse alongside it.
Patting Buttercups’s neck, Nivea whispered, “Now, don’t be afraid. I’m new at this. I promise not to hurt you, but you have to be patient. If you are good, I have an apple in my pocket for you.”
She positioned herself in front of the boulder and took a deep breath. This was the part she hated. How was she to contort her body to get out of the saddle and onto the rock? If she lifted her leg off the pommel, she was sure to drop like a stone. Then she would either fall under the horse’s hooves and be trampled, or smash against the rock and bleed to death. Neither alternative appealed to her.
She shifted in her seat, feeling a trickle of nervous sweat behind her knee. Buttercup snorted her impatience.
“All right, girl. Don’t fuss. I’m going to do this.” Having said it out loud, she found the courage to dislodge her leg from the saddle. Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears, it drowned out all other sounds in the forest. She inched her weight forward keeping a firm hold on the horse. There was a moment of panic when she could feel nothing under her feet but air. But then her feet touched the stone’s surface and she could breath once again. In her excitement, she turned back toward the horse, and nearly fell when her skirt got tangled around her legs. Flailing, her hands braced against Buttercup’s solid flank, and she managed to regain her balance.
“There!” With a triumphant smile, she stood on the rock like a conquering hero. Buttercup turned her head toward Nivea and snorted, making her laugh. “Yes, I know, for most people it’s not much of an achievement, but for me, it’s quite a milestone. Now, you will have to be tolerant old dear, for I am going to try and get back up.”
Nivea gave herself a moment to savor the victory before steeling herself for the real challenge. She leaned her torso over the saddle, kicked her skirt out of the way, and tried to tug herself up.
That didn’t work.
She gave a little hop. That didn’t work either.
Buttercup shifted her weight and turned her head to see what was going on.
Nivea blew a loose piece of hair from her eyes and reached up to pull the horse closer. “I know. I told you to be patient. I’ll get it.” She leaned into the horse and jumped harder. It wasn’t enough to get her all the way up, and she slid back down onto the rock.
“Uuuurg! Why is this so hard?”
She once again reached over and flung herself upward. With an ungainly twist, and a most unladylike grunt, she managed to pull herself up onto the saddle.
Buttercup took two steps forward before Nivea could grab the reins and get herself settled. She took a deep steadying breath and patted the horse’s neck. “Good girl. That wasn’t so bad.”
The horse nickered, but Nivea let it pass. “Enough of that for one day. Now we can take a stroll.” She prodded the horse forward.
Really, this wasn’t so bad. The woods were colored with a multitude of greens, hiding happy birds chirping to one another. Buttercup strolled along, her hooves drumming out a muffled beat on the packed dirt path.
Just as she reached the open field and decided to turn back home, she heard a whoop and turned to see whom it was. Abby and Thomas were galloping across the field; Abby’s dark hair streamed out behind her, no sign of a hat. They waved at Nivea and slowed to approach at a sedate pace.
“
Good morning. How are you today?” Abby asked as she drew alongside her. Her face was glowing with excitement and exercise. Thomas looked happy as well, but settled his features into more of a stoic expression. With the scar on his face, he looked almost fierce, but Nivea knew better.
Smiling, she answered. “I’m fine. It was such a nice morning, I thought I’d take a ride.”
Thomas shot her a questioning look. Nivea was sure he realized in all the years he’d known William, he’d never seen her on horseback. Fortunately, he was too polite to comment.
“Did you have a nice race?” Nivea asked.
Abby smiled and the look of love she exchanged with Thomas was almost embarrassing. “Yes. These horses are wonderful. I could not wait to stretch their legs. They are magnificent creatures. Thomas, you are going to have to talk to William about selling this one to me. She’s perfect.”
His eyes crinkled in amusement. “I thought Arabelle was perfect. And Mystic. How may perfect horses do you need?”
Abby shrugged and patted the horse’s shoulder.
“So, Thomas, the other men are all off hunting. Didn’t you wish to go with them?” Nivea asked.
His eyes grew dark and shuttered. “I do not enjoy the sport. I have seen enough killing, thank you.”
Recalling that his scar was a result of a battle wound, her face warmed. “Oh—yes—I see—well—” she stuttered.
Taking note of her embarrassment, Abby reached over and patted her husband’s leg. “Let’s go, luv, I’ll race you to the stable.”
He smiled and whipped his horse to a gallop, but Abby had already sprung ahead.
If she were a betting woman, Nivea would put her money on the lady.
By the time she reached the stable, grooms were already rubbing down the pair’s horses. One of them stopped to help Nivea dismount. She almost felt graceful as she slid onto the mounting block.
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