The Training of a Marquess

by Sandra Owens

  There was a truth, which was why she had Gordon. But the disappointment that Chase thought this way almost crushed her. “I considered you a better man, my lord. Apparently, I was wrong.”

  He sighed. “I may not agree with how most men think, but I can’t change their minds overnight. Personally, I believe you are capable of running the best stables in England, but I can name only two other men who might agree. And you lorded me again, but as you did it in misguided anger, I’ll overlook it this time.”

  Her temper eased with his words, and she couldn’t help but return his teasing smile. “Who are the other men? Perhaps I could train horses for them.”

  He snorted. “One, the Earl of Daventry, I would not let within a mile of you. He’s a good friend and would have no problem with you training his horses. But he would take one look at you in those breeches and before you knew what he was about, would have you out of them.”

  “Lord Daventry is interested in purchasing one of our colts, and I’ve invited him for a visit. If, as you say, he would be willing to allow a woman to train his horses, perhaps I’ll broach the subject with him.”

  Chase made a noise that sounded like a growl. “No.”

  Well, that was interesting. Deciding to poke at him a little, she asked, “Is he as handsome as you?”

  He scowled. “I don’t wish to talk about Daventry.”

  Her heart fluttered with happiness. Chase didn’t like the thought of her with another man. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

  “Who is the other?” she asked, letting the subject drop for now.

  “That would be my friend, Aubrey. Before they were married, his duchess started a working horse venture and was quite successful at it.”

  He’d mentioned the duke and duchess before. Claire wanted to meet her. “I think I would like her.”

  “I know you would. But, Claire, believe me when I say most men would not approve of you stepping into their world.”

  “Unfortunately, I know you speak the truth, which is why I hired Gordon. He’s my business manager and voice in dealing with prospective buyers.”

  “A wise move, but do you really think your buyers will believe that puppy is the owner of your stables? Because they won’t, and they will want to know who is.”

  Blast, she hadn’t considered that. “I don’t suppose there is any way I can stay here and manage the stables for you? There’s a dowager house a mile from here, and I could live there.”

  His eyes filled with regret. “I wish it were possible as I fear the operation will suffer without your attentions, but there is no way to keep you a secret. It was one thing when you were married to Derebourne. No one thought to question your presence. Now, however, it would be remarked upon sooner rather than later. You don’t deserve the scandal that would come your way.”

  Despair gripped sharp claws into her heart, and she wanted to be alone. “What is to become of me?” Bells in hell. She hadn’t meant to say that.

  “I have some thoughts on the subject. Are you willing to listen?”

  Not trusting herself to speak without her voice trembling, she nodded.

  “Together, we will put a value on the horses. Including stud fees, I would estimate that to be somewhere between twenty and thirty thousand pounds. Whatever number we agree on, I’ll set half that amount aside as a dowry for you. Your year of mourning will end in a few weeks, and at that time we will travel to London. I’ll pay to have new gowns and fripperies made for you, and then we’ll find you a husband."

  He sat back with such a pleased expression on his face for his solution to ridding himself of her that if she had been a man, she would have planted him a facer.

  Yes, he was being more than generous. Yes, he was looking out for her welfare. Even so, he’d just broken her heart. Did he expect her to congratulate him for his clever idea? What would he say if she voiced what was in her head?

  She stood, intending to leave. “You could marry me.” The echo of her utterance bounced around a suddenly silent room.

  Double bells in hell. Had she really said that aloud? By the shock on his face, apparently she had. Now that the words had escaped her mouth, she had nothing to lose and rushed on. “I would make you a good wife. I know you loved her…I think you still do, so I don’t expect you to love me.”

  She pressed her lips together to keep more words from escaping.

  With the fingers of one hand, he spun his signet ring, seemingly fascinated by the sapphire stone rotating around and around. “I’ll not marry again.”

  “You must have loved her very much. She was a fortunate lady.”

  Eyes full of pain briefly met hers. “If only she thought so.”

  “She didn’t return your love?” Claire was astonished. She would count her blessings every day of her life if this man loved her.

  “Her heart belonged to another.”

  Claire opened her mouth to say what, she didn’t know.

  He held up a hand. “This conversation is over. I’ll never marry again and enough said. My plan to take you to London stands.”

  She walked out of the room, not giving an owl’s hoot if any of her servants saw her leaving the master’s study dressed in breeches. At the stables, she saddled Amira and, with tears blinding her eyes, spurred the mare, letting her go where she pleased.

  ****

  Chase moodily stared at the door as it closed behind the woman who had played havoc with his senses from the time he’d arrived at Hillcrest Abbey. What was he thinking to admit Teresa never loved him?

  Because Claire had surprised him, his brain had sent words he never meant to say tumbling out his mouth. Though her idea appealed to some deep part of him, he would never trust his heart to another woman, especially Claire. She scared him.

  Already, he liked her too much, and feared there would be a day when his heart would come out of hiding and offer itself to her. When she broke it, he would not recover a second time.

  No, his intention to find her a husband was best for both of them, particularly him. Apparently, she didn’t think much of his plan. Truth be told, when he spoke of finding her a husband something in him wanted to protest.

  Yes, indeed, she terrified the bloody hell out of him.

  Was she all right? She had left so abruptly. Should he apologize for being brusque? He walked out to the foyer. “Smithfield, have you seen Lady Derebourne?”

  “Yes, my lord. I believe she went to the stables.”

  There was no Claire or Amira to be found there. Chase gave a loud whistle and went to collect his saddle. When he came out of the tack room Mischief awaited him at the hitching post.

  “Can you find your lady love? Find Amira.” Where would Claire go?

  Why was he looking for her? It would be best to leave well enough alone. Ignoring the wisdom of doing so, he gave the horse his lead. Mischief went down the hill to the edge of the woods where Chase found Amira tied to a tree. Leaving his horse to roam free, Chase followed the path to the lake.

  Claire sat on the boulder, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head bowed. Her body shook with her sobs. Resisting the urge to go to her, he stepped behind a tree. She wouldn’t want him to see her like this. She’d lost so much and all she had left was her pride. He wouldn’t take that, too.

  Didn’t she know how much she had to offer a man? She was beautiful, interesting, intelligent and a joy to be around. She had a hidden passion that begged to be explored. No man in his right mind would tire of her company. A man would be fortunate to have her as his wife.

  When she found a man she liked, she’d forget this nonsense of running her own business. By the time she welcomed a child into the world, she would look back on this time and realize he was only doing what was best for her.

  Chase muttered a curse and willed away the image of a baby girl with Claire’s pale hair and sea-blue eyes.

  Returning to the abbey, he spent the remainder of the afternoon with Harry and Bensey. As he had on previous nights, he bro
ught the boys with him to dinner. Mrs. Smithfield informed him that Lady Derebourne had the headache, and had requested a tray to be sent to her room. It was difficult to say who was more disappointed, him or the twins.

  After seeing them to bed, he returned to his room, poured a brandy and walked out onto the balcony. The night was warm, and the moon edged toward full. He pulled off his coat, cravat and waistcoat, throwing them carelessly back into the room.

  All evening, the image of her sitting alone on the rock—her body shaking as she cried—had haunted him. Were the tears for the loss of her horses? They had to be. That was probably why she had suggested they marry, so she could keep her stables.

  Surely, his offer of a dowry and his plan to find her a husband would not cause her to cry. He would make sure she chose someone who would be kind to her. He knew who the rakes and dissolute lords were and wouldn’t allow her to make a mistake in her choice. If he ever found out the man hurt or mistreated her, Chase would kill him, whoever he was.

  A picture of a faceless man kissing her formed in his mind, and his grip on the glass constricted, shattering it.

  Bloody hell. It had been a mistake to kiss her—to learn her taste, the softness of her lips. Shaking his hand, he dislodged the slivers. He walked back into the room to find Anders picking up the clothing.

  “I have never known you to be so careless with your clothes, my lord. It wouldn’t be a lovely widow disturbing your thoughts, now would it?”

  “Anders, do you ever mind your own business? You are just like my horse, always nosing into matters that do not concern you.”

  Anders gave a hearty laugh. “How else is one to find things out, my lord?”

  “How else, indeed. I’m taking the twins on a picnic tomorrow. We’re going down to the sea, so be sure they dress appropriately for the outing.”

  Would Claire still come with them? She hadn’t appeared for dinner and might cry off from their outing.

  “Are the twins still awake?”

  “They were a few minutes ago, my lord.”

  “Wait here until I return.”

  He entered the boys’ room, pleased to find them awake. “I want you both to write a letter to Lady Derebourne asking her to go with us on our picnic tomorrow. I think it would please her immensely to be invited by the two of you.”

  They scrambled out of their beds and went to their desks. Chase read Harry’s note as he wrote it.

  Dear Lady Derebourne,

  It would be ever so grand if you came with us on our picnic. Father and I are riding our horses (Bensey won’t ride, so he will be in the carriage) and I know Amira will be sad if she is left behind. Please say you will.

  Harry

  “Is my letter good, Father?”

  “It’s perfect, Harry.”

  Bensey handed him his. “Read mine.”

  My Lady,

  Please come with us to the sea. I read in my flower book that sea campion and thrift live on the rocks at the sea in Kent. You can help me look for them. If you want to. Do you want to?

  Bensey

  Perhaps he wasn’t playing fair, but this was for her own good. She needed cheering up, and a day with the twins would do the trick. He tousled Bensey’s hair. “It is also perfect.”

  Chase took their letters, herded them back into bed and gave each a kiss on the forehead. God, he loved the little scamps. It occurred to him that he had never told them so.

  “Good night, my boys. I love you.”

  Their eyes widened. “Do you really love us, Father?” Bensey asked.

  “I really do. Now, go to sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.” He blew out the candle and turned to leave.

  “Father?”

  “Yes, Harry.”

  “We love you, too.”

  “We really do,” Bensey added.

  Tears burned his eyes. Would he have made it through the past year without his boys? He didn’t think so. “Good night, my sons,” he softly said.

  Back in his room, he handed Anders the letters. “See that Lady Derebourne receives these. Tonight, if she is still awake. If not, first thing in the morning.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Chase smiled, feeling surprisingly good. He should have told the twins he loved them long before now. Children needed to know they had the love of a parent. His mother had frequently told her children she loved them. She still did.

  His father was another matter. All he’d loved was women, drink and gambling. After his death, Chase swore he wouldn’t bring more shame on the Kensington name.

  Before his marriage to Teresa, there had been his fair share of women. To keep from being like his father, however, he’d never set his sights on girls fresh out of the schoolroom or another man’s wife. After Teresa had married Hollingsworth, he’d tried to bury his pain with any woman who looked twice at him—though still avoiding virgins and married women.

  Then…

  Then Aubrey had brought Teresa home from France after her husband was killed. Chase had stopped seeing other women, and set about making Teresa his. From that day until eight months after she died and he had walked through the door of the Pink Slipper, he hadn’t touched another woman.

  His infrequent visits to the Pink Slipper were only out of necessity when the need built up and he required release. There was no threat to his heart in those visits. No worries he would lose it again to someone like Teresa. Or Claire. She was a new threat, one he was having trouble resisting.

  Claire was as different from Teresa as night from day. Teresa had been broken and what remained of her had been as fragile as a crystal glass—easily shattered if not handled with extreme care. In the end, she had shattered despite his gentle care. Thinking back on their time together, he realized he had been more of a caretaker than a husband.

  He had put aside his own needs hoping that one day she would heal and be the kind of wife he wanted. Someone to stand beside him, someone he could trust with his heart. Teresa had tried—God knows she had—but she had never been able to put the past behind her.

  She had never loved him and for that reason alone, he would not risk his heart again. It was only through sheer will that he’d patched the splintered pieces back together.

  Claire might be the one woman who could be all the things he had once wished for, but what if he was wrong? What if there was another Harry out there somewhere waiting to claim her heart?

  He should avoid her. It was the wise thing to do, yet he kept finding reasons to be in her company.

  He closed his eyes and settled into a troubled sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  The devil lord didn’t play fair. Claire clutched the letters from the twins in her fist and paced the floor of her bedroom. She had planned to send a note in the morning excusing herself from the outing.

  The man she loved planned to take her to London to find her a husband? How dare he! Was she a piece of unwanted furniture to be sold to the highest bidder? When word of the wealth Chase planned to bestow on her leaked out, the fortune hunters would arrive on her doorstep in droves.

  The blasted man.

  If she had to have a husband, why couldn’t it be him? He desired her. Even in her inexperience, she knew that much. It wasn’t love, but it was more than she’d had with Thomas. Why couldn’t he see how a marriage between them would benefit them both? She could give him an heir, be a mother to his boys, manage his stables and be his friend. It would be the perfect arrangement for him.

  As for her, well, she would have him.

  But the ghost of his wife stood between them. How could she break down his walls? Unfortunately, she had no clue how a woman went about getting a marriage proposal from the man her heart wanted. She only knew how to get a horse’s attention. If only it were that simple.

  As Claire sought sleep, the idea of how to make Chase want her played on her mind. Several hours later, she sat straight up in bed.

  “That’s it!” she exclaimed.

  She would go about it in
the same way she would with a frightened, damaged horse. Granted, he wasn’t a horse, but he was damaged. Although his scars didn’t show, they were there all the same. Until he healed, he would be too skittish to risk his heart again, and he had such a big heart.

  It was there in his love for the two boys he had rescued from the streets. It was there in his love for his family, and even in his love for his silly horse. The man surrounded himself with only who and what he trusted to never betray him. Like a horse that had learned not to trust an abusive master, Chase had learned not to trust a woman.

  She had worked with abused horses. Too many men thought the way to train a horse was to beat the animal into submission with the whip and harsh treatment. Too often, the results were a mean, savage beast or a quivering mass of horseflesh afraid of its own shadow. Their spirits were stolen, their pride destroyed. Through trial and error, she had developed her own unique methods for giving a horse its pride back.

  She had never met a horse she couldn’t help. Could she help heal this man? Too excited to return to sleep, she planned her strategy for what she decided to call The Training of a Marquess.

  The first stage in working with a troubled horse was to let him see her, to let him wonder about her. Horses were curious animals.

  When she worked with one of her yearlings, his first questions was, Who are you and what do you want from me? If it was a damaged horse, the question would be a suspicious, What are you going to do to hurt me?

  It was up to her to prove the horse was safe with her. The very challenge she faced with Chase. She had taken the first steps in getting him to notice her, but he needed to be more curious. He needed to wonder about her. The Training of a Marquess would start first thing in the morning with Stage One: Notice Me.

  ****

  Chase led the twins into the stables at precisely eleven. His carriage was harnessed and his coachman stood in front of the cattle. At the hitching post, Mischief and Victory stomped impatient hooves—saddled and ready to go. Claire and Amira were the only missing invitees to this outing. Amira’s stall was empty so he went to Claire’s office and found Gordon.