The Training of a Marquess

by Sandra Owens

  “Have you seen Lady Derebourne?”

  “Yes, my lord. She said to tell you to go on and she would catch up with you.”

  It irritated him that she wasn’t here and ready. He returned to the front of the stables. “Let’s go,” he told the boys.

  “Isn’t Lady Derebourne coming with us?” Harry asked.

  “Harry said my lady would go on our picnic. Harry said our letters would do the trick,” Bensey said, close to tears.

  “She said we were to go on ahead and she would catch up to us. Is the food basket in the carriage, Bensey?” Chase asked to divert the boy’s attention.

  Bensey peered in the carriage door. “Yes, Father.”

  “Good. No sneaking any cakes before we arrive at the seashore.” Bensey he would trust not to sneak a cake—Harry, never.

  “I won’t.” Clutching his book on the plants of coastal England and his satchel, Bensey climbed into the carriage.

  Chase and Harry mounted their horses and rode out ahead. Chase’s mind turned to Claire. Where was she? The last time he saw her, she had been sitting on a rock crying. There was no reason to worry. If she chose not to come, so be it. It only meant he didn’t have to contend with another sad woman. After Teresa, he didn’t have it in him.

  He rode alongside Harry, half-listening to the boy’s chatter. As soon as Lady Anne arrived, he’d remove himself from Claire’s presence. His mother would be able to comfort Claire and deal with her melancholy much better than he.

  Deep in thought, he didn’t hear the approaching horse until it was right behind him. Harry gave a delighted laugh, and Chase turned to see what amused his son.

  A laughing, pale-haired sprite wearing black leather breeches raced past them. Amira’s mane boasted flowers and tinkling bells, and her tail was braided with colorful ribbons.

  What the deuce?

  Claire—a big grin on her face—pulled up and turned her horse to face them.

  Where was the despondent woman he expected? Not that he regretted her good cheer, but Chase didn’t know what to make of her. She was a vision in her leather breeches and a red silk blouse, astride a horse decorated as if it had stepped out of a fairy tale. She wore her hair in a braided tail that reached her waist. Red and silver earrings dangled from her ears. The only thing that kept her from being mistaken for a gypsy was her moonlight pale hair.

  She muddled his mind and stirred his blood. He didn’t understand her. There was a time in his life—before Teresa—when he prided himself on knowing women better than most. Now, he was as confused as the next man.

  “I say, Amira is ever so pretty, my lady,” Harry said

  Her bells jingling, Amira pranced as if she knew she was indeed a lovely sight to behold. Claire moved with the mare as if she and the horse were one. The festive Arabian and the intriguing woman captivated Chase. How hard was it going to be to convince Bensey to draw them?

  “Thank you, Harry,” the enchantress said. “Amira’s quite proud of her flowers and bells.”

  The carriage caught up with them and Bensey leaned out the window, grinning from ear to ear.

  Claire rode closer to him. “What do you think of Amira’s flowers, Bensey?”

  “I think she is beautiful, my lady. May I draw you and Amira?”

  “Amira would be honored, as would I.”

  Well, that answers that. It seemed the twins were no more immune to her enchantment than he. Chase shook his head to clear it of the pixie dust she had obviously sprinkled in the air. He had to get her out of his mind. She wasn’t for him, and if he kept hammering the thought into his mind, it might sink in.

  “Lady Claire,” he said, and cursed the huskiness in his voice. “I’m pleased you were able to join us. The boys were worried.”

  Ignoring Chase, she gave the twins a big smile. “Well, I’m here now, so shall we go have our picnic?”

  “Oh, yes, my lady,” they said in unison.

  She patted Bensey’s hand. “Would you mind terribly if your father, Harry, and I raced for a while? I promise we’ll wait for you to catch up before we reach the sea.”

  “No, my lady, but tell John Coachman that I won’t mind if he goes a little faster.”

  Was that his son speaking? Normally, Bensey didn’t want the carriage to go faster than a light trot. Apparently, the twins had also inhaled the pixie dust. As Chase gave his coachman instructions, the minx laughed and took off with Harry, the boy’s laughter mingling with hers.

  She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “Good bye, my lord,” she called.

  Did she think to leave him behind?

  Claire smiled at the sound of Mischief’s hooves pounding the dirt as Chase raced after them. If the heat in his eyes when she’d reached them was any indication, her plan was working. She held Amira back so Harry could easily keep up.

  Victory was a fine horse and could go faster, but she didn’t want to push the boy past his abilities. He was a good rider for his age and if taught right, would develop into an excellent horseman. Perhaps Chase would let Harry spend some time with her in the training ring.

  Harry pealed with excited laughter. “Father’s almost here,” he yelled. “Can we go faster?”

  She inched Amira a little closer to him. “Can you keep a secret?”

  When he nodded, she said, “We know we can beat him, but we’re going to let him catch up. We don’t want to hurt his feelings, do we?”

  He gave her one of his impish grins. “But we won, right?”

  “Yes, but that will be our secret.”

  When Chase reached them, the three settled into an easy gallop. Claire let the man and boy pull ahead. She wanted to know how well the marquess rode. She was pleased to see he had a good seat and a light touch with the reins.

  There was nothing worse than a rider with a heavy hand. She could never love a man who mistreated a horse, one who jerked the bit in his mount’s mouth or gave hard kicks to his flanks, or any number of things she’d seen them do.

  Though, she mused, it might be better if he was one of those men. It would give her a reason not to love him. She didn’t want to go to London and find a husband, couldn’t imagine a man existed that she would want more than Chase.

  He pulled alongside, his head bent low over Mischief’s neck. Her silly heart wept for what could be if only…but all was not lost. She still had her plan. Her methods had never failed with a horse, but would they work with him?

  Even at a fast gallop, he managed to send her a look of such awareness she feared she might slide right off the saddle. She almost did when he grinned, showing his dimple.

  Claire managed to return his smile and nudged Amira to pick up her speed. She raced past Chase and Harry, giving them a merry laugh. The sound of hooves pounding behind her thrilled her adventurous self.

  She leaned over Amira’s neck. “Show them what you can do, my lovely.”

  Amira, never one to hesitate to show herself off, lowered her head and raced the wind. When they were within a mile of the sea, Claire reined in the mare and gradually slowed her to a lope. Chase and Harry fell in beside her. They circled the horses, allowing them to cool down while waiting for the carriage.

  “That was grand fun,” Harry said, and then with a sly gleam in his eyes, added, “We didn’t think you would catch up with us, Father, but somehow you did.”

  Chase glanced suspiciously at the boy, and Claire hid her smile. It seemed he knew his son well. Although Chase hadn’t said much, his attention had stayed on her from the time she’d raced past him to the music of Amira’s jingling bells.

  That’s right, notice me. She gave Amira the signal to rear up. The Arabian stood on her hind legs as her front hooves pawed the air above her head. Harry laughed with glee. Chase nudged Mischief alongside Amira.

  “You’re killing me, Claire,” he murmured. “Be glad we have an audience, or…”

  The carriage arrived, and he backed Mischief away. Or what? Bells in hell, she wanted to know what he’d started to
say.

  Pivoting Amira, Claire led them to a path that would allow them to take the horses with them to the beach. “We should remove their saddles so we don’t risk them getting wet,” she suggested.

  After removing the saddles, Chase retrieved the food basket and they led the horses down to the beach with Bensey following, carrying his book and satchel. When they reached the bottom, Claire sat on a rock to pull off her boots and stockings.

  “May we take our boots off, Father?” Harry asked.

  Chase placed the basket behind a rock, out of the sun. “It would be a good idea to do so. You don’t want to get them wet.”

  The twins seemed excited by the idea of being barefoot and immediately set to work on removing each other’s boots. Claire breathed deeply of the salty air as her gaze took in the beauty of the sea. The waves were gentle today, and she always felt at peace when she came here.

  She tried not to think that this might be the last time she would see it. The boys’ laughter resolved her to enjoy herself and make a happy memory of this day.

  She caught Chase staring at her feet and wanted to grin, but settled for wriggling her toes in the sand. “Aren’t you going to remove your boots?” she asked.

  He jerked his gaze up to her face. His eyes were a deeper blue, the same color as when he kissed her. If he were one of her horses, she’d say her plan was working. He gave a little shake of his head and then sat down next to her on the rock. His arm brushed hers, her skin prickling where they touched.

  “Harry, Bensey, give me a hand here.” He stretched out his legs and lifted a foot.

  The boys pulled and tugged and, with much merriment, managed to remove his snug fitting boots. When he removed his stockings, she understood his fascination with her feet. Claire had never thought of feet being elegant, but his were. Her fingers itched to touch them when he wriggled his toes in the sand as she had. She glanced up to see him intently watching her. His lips twitched when she blushed.

  Chase was thoroughly convinced he had lost his mind somewhere between Hillcrest and the sea. It probably happened the moment she raced past him on her fairy horse clad in leather breeches and wearing gypsy earrings. He shouldn’t notice how the silk shirt hugged her curves, shouldn’t be having carnal thoughts about her little pink toes—or any other part of her for that matter.

  Nor should he like the way she stared at his feet with a hungry gleam in her eyes. Her blush when he caught her out had been charming. He glanced at his feet. They weren’t ugly, but he didn’t see what she found fascinating about them. Hers on the other hand…

  Bloody hell, he had to stop thinking about her toes. His horse nuzzled his face, and he scratched Mischief’s nose. “Silly horse. Feeling ignored, are you?”

  “He wants to go swimming,” Harry said.

  “Does he now?” Chase stood, offering a hand to Claire. “Shall we take a ride on the beach before we have our picnic?”

  She placed her hand in his, and something happened to him. This was where her hand belonged, in his. She looked at him with her big blue eyes, and he lost his bearings.

  He wanted to make love to her, softly, leisurely and thoroughly. He wanted to peel off her clothes and spend hours exploring her body, wanted to touch his fingertips to her soft skin as she moaned his name. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted another woman, maybe even more than Teresa.

  Bloody hell.

  Chase dropped her hand and turned to Bensey. “Will you be all right if we ride for a few minutes? We’ll stay in sight and perhaps you can begin your drawing of Amira and Lady Derebourne.”

  Bensey picked up his satchel and set about organizing his pencils and charcoal. Chase removed his coat, and then gave Harry a leg up on Victory.

  He turned to Claire. “My lady?”

  She placed her foot, warm from the sand, on his interlocked fingers and swung her leg over Amira. Chase squeezed his eyes shut. He had to stop thinking about her feet. Opening his eyes, he grabbed Mischief’s reins, led him to a rock and mounted.

  They headed for the water. Harry bounced around a little on Victory, but Claire was again one with her horse. When they reached the waves, Claire nudged Amira into an easy lope and Harry followed suit. Within minutes of riding along the water line, Harry rode bareback almost as well as Claire.

  The horses seemed to like splashing through the waves, Mischief nickering from the fun of it. Without warning, his idiot horse took a hard left, heading for deeper water. Chase hadn’t come as close to falling off since he was in short pants, learning to ride his first pony.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” He pulled Mischief to a stop.

  His fool horse stomped at the waves as if trying to catch them. Chase decided standing still and letting Mischief play was much easier on his arse than bouncing saddleless atop a galloping horse.

  Down the beach, Claire and Harry seemed in deep conversation as they rode side by side. Chase tried to imagine Teresa in leather breeches, riding bareback and barefoot while talking with a boy from the streets. He couldn’t.

  “Father,” Harry called. “Lady Derebourne said if it is all right with you, I can come to the stables with her in the morning and she will teach me to train horses. I want to do it ever so much, so please say yes. Please.”

  The excitement in his son’s eyes would have prevented any likelihood of saying no even if he had been so inclined. He wanted Harry to learn all he could from her and had planned to ask her to allow him to watch her training sessions.

  “Yes, but you understand it means getting up at dawn.”

  “Oh, thank you, Father. I promise I’ll get up when I’m supposed to. I want to tell Bensey.”

  He took off and Chase marveled at how easily he now rode Victory without a saddle.

  “He’s a natural,” Claire said.

  “I know. I was just thinking that I envied him.” When she arched a brow, he shrugged. “Never thought to say I would envy a nine year old boy’s ability to ride bareback, but there it is.”

  “Missing your saddle, are you?”

  “My arse is missing my saddle, pardon my language.”

  She laughed and he joined her. Life was good. When was the last time he’d been carefree and happy? When had he last laughed with a woman he truly liked?

  Sea birds called overhead. He watched them circle, their wings stretched wide to catch the draft. The sun warmed his face, the breeze tousled his hair, and he smiled. This was the best day he’d had in a long, long time. There would be no thinking today, no worries about tomorrow. For now, there was only this day, this woman, his sons, the sound of the sea, and the sun warm on his face.

  In easy companionship, he and Claire walked their mounts along the edge of the water. He listened to her voice and liked the music of it, liked the way she looked into his eyes when she spoke. Teresa had rarely met his gaze.

  “Thank you for allowing Harry to spend time with me at the stables. I think he has much potential. I’ve always wanted a promising student. My training is different, but it seems to work better than the way most train their horses.”

  “You’re welcome, but you should know I was going to ask it of you. His natural abilities with horses was a surprise, especially if you consider he had never been on one before a year ago. From the first time I put him on a pony it was as if he found his passion in life. It’s important the twins have a purpose as they cannot inherit from me. For Harry it’s horses, for Bensey, his art.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right, it’s fortunate they each have found something that will sustain them through life. I know how adrift I felt before I found my purpose.”

  He had never considered life from a woman’s point of view. They were raised to be wives and mothers. Never had he thought it might not be enough for some. For her. How was it fair for a woman to be told she had to give up something that was a part of who she was? Not only would he make sure the husband she chose was kind and gentle, but the man would have to love horses and be willin
g to allow her to have a hand in training them.

  If he found her a husband. Bloody hell, where had that come from? Of course, he was going to follow his plan.

  “Would you would mind if the twins addressed me as Lady Claire?” she asked. “I’m friends with them now. Lady Derebourne sounds so formal and distant. They’re such charming boys and I like them tremendously. Would you allow it?”

  “If that is what you wish.”

  Her warm smile was so pleasing his dead heart flickered to life. His reaction to her smiles should concern him, and it would—tomorrow.

  They returned to Bensey. Chase swung his leg over Mischief’s back and slid to the ground. He turned to Claire and lifted her off Amira, lowering her down. His hands lingered on her waist longer than they should. His gaze lingered on her pink lips longer than it should.

  Harry held out Bensey’s sketchpad. “Look at Bensey’s picture, Father.”

  Chase tore his gaze away. Christ. How did one rid oneself of pixie dust?

  “Oh, Bensey, it’s beautiful,” Claire said.

  And it was. Bensey had drawn them riding on the beach, Claire’s red blouse, gypsy earrings, the flowers in Amira’s mane and the ribbons woven into her tail the only bright colors. He had used muted blues and grays for the sea and sky, and white for Amira and the sand.

  “Once again, you amaze me, son.”

  Bensey grinned, took the pad from Harry and flipped the page. Chase stared at it a moment before bursting into laughter. Bensey had caught him at the instant he had almost fallen off Mischief. In the picture, he was leaning at a precarious angle with one leg raised above his head. The look on his face was comical.

  The other three joined him in his laughter, and a seed was planted in his mind. This is how it feels to have a true and loving family.

  They settled on the rocks, sharing a lunch of cold chicken, cheeses, apples, and to the twins delight, cakes. They talked about the sea, fish and turtles, the sea birds and the best way to build sand castles. They teased each other, told riddles and laughed more than he ever remembered doing so.