Red Satin

by Barbara Miller

  A Cerridwen Press Publication

  www.cerridwenpress.com

  Red Satin

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Red Satin Copyright © 2009 Barbara Miller

  Edited by Helen Woodall.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Electronic book Publication March 2009

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing Inc., 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Cerridwen Press is an imprint of Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.®

  Red Satin

  Barbara Miller

  Chapter One

  Derbyshire, England, Spring of 1816

  Andrew Devon, only son of the Earl of Carlisle, nearly dropped his reins as his curricle drew near the estate of Sir Thomas Foley. Two riders with a scattered pack of hounds were coursing a hare directly toward the hedge that bordered the road. And one of them was a woman. She led her companion, in fact, her black riding habit fluttering to reveal a trim ankle. The curled feather of her forage cap flew back to mingle with her coppery curls unfurling like a red satin banner behind her.

  He checked his team as the riders disappeared for a moment behind the hedge. All this time, the baying of the hounds and the pounding of hooves grew louder. The panicked hare shot out of the hedgerow and under his horses’ hooves, causing them to stamp restlessly and his servant to swear. Before any of the hounds appeared, a rustle of branches against leather heralded the launching of the woman and her horse over the hedge. She was on a blood bay that glowed like her own hair in the setting sun. Devon hauled on the team’s reins even as he captured the scene in his mind. He was an artist of sorts, not a thing he puffed off to people, and he was always in despair that he might forget such an image before he could sketch it.

  She barely spared him a glance she was so intent on not riding down any of the hounds that poured through the gaps in the hedgerow. The male rider crashed through rather than leaping over the hedge, looked surprised, and gave Devon a half salute before continuing across the road after the girl. The dust settled and Devon noticed the curled feather from her hat lay on the road.

  He handed his reins to Roth and got down to retrieve it with a shake of his head. He was a sentimental fool to pick up something that would remind him of such a woman. He would never see her again. If he could have followed his heart he would have ridden after her, but he was being shoehorned into marriage with the daughter of his father’s old friend, the girl his brother would have married if he’d lived. And Miss Foley could be nothing like the wild vision who had just burst on the scene. He slid the feather into an inner pocket and got back into the curricle.

  “Lunatics, both of them,” his groom cum valet said, handing the reins back.

  “Happy lunatics at any rate.”

  His man looked at him with a frown. There was little he bothered to hide from Roth who had accompanied him to the Peninsula and to Belgium. The man had doctored his wounds and saved his life a score of time. He had a right to know Dev was not happy with the duty he was about to perform. But after losing his brother, his parents were counting on him to continue the line.

  Within ten minutes he had arrived at Foley’s and halted the carriage in front of the rambling two-story stone house. Not only did a corps of servants launch themselves from the entrance to take charge of his baggage, but his host came out to greet him.

  “You find me alone this afternoon,” Foley said as he shook his gray head. “My lady is in town selecting dinner and my son and daughter are out riding somewhere.”

  “Indeed? Did they have hounds with them?”

  “God save us. What have they done now?”

  The change in his host’s aspect from jovial to terrified was so laughable, Dev blurted out, “Not a thing but form a perfect picture. And that hunter she was riding was the most striking animal I have ever seen.”

  “Chalice. Yes, he is unusual. Would you rather rest or have a look ‘round the stables now?”

  “Oh, the stables by all means.”

  * * * * *

  Selina had never wanted the ride to end, knowing they were to be visited by yet another applicant for her hand. At least that was the pretense they all used. Really they came for the horses and she could see through them, doing the pretty when they truly had no interest in her. They only courted her to get a better price on a hunter from her father.

  “Race you home?” Gary teased.

  “The horses are tired and so are the hounds. They gave us a good chase. Let’s just trot in.”

  “If it were up to you, the rabbit would be carried home in a basket and put to bed with carrot tops.”

  “Well, he did his bit as well. The best of men are those who care about their creatures.”

  Having said that, Selena still arrived in the stableyard before her brother and dispensed with the mounting block to expertly gather up the riding skirt and slide off Chalice. She started to run the irons up to the saddle when she noticed her father standing with someone in the entrance to the foaling barn. Oh, bother. He had the man with him already. He wasn’t old or ugly. In fact he had a handsome countenance and merry brown eyes when he smiled. Still that might be a ruse. She started walking the horse around the yard.

  “Ah, you’re back. I was just showing Devon the stock we have, and I particularly wanted him to look at Chalice. This is my son Gary and daughter Selina.”

  Gary dismounted and stepped up to shake Devon’s hand. Selina halted Chalice long enough to curtsy, lifting the tail of her riding habit with one gloved hand even as the other gripped the reins of the sweating stallion. “Please to meet you.”

  “How old is he?” Devon asked with a nod at Chalice.

  “Only just three,” Selina said. “Green broke and needs another year or two to mature.”

  “He looks fine.” Devon stroked Chalice’s nose with one hand while running the other up his neck to scratch behind an ear. The horse responded by sighing and ducking his sweaty head to rub it against Devon’s clean shirt front.

  Selina moved to retrain the horse. “Oh, he’ll get you dirty.”

  “That’s my valet’s worry.”

  Gary walked his bay up beside them. “I take it by the absence of grooms that Taffy is foaling?”

  “Oh, Gary, walk Chalice for me?” Selina asked. “I should go help.”

  “Not to worry,” her father said. “She’s only just started. It will be hours yet.”

  Just then a gig rounded the corner, presumably after having discharged its passenger and goods at the front door. The elderly groom driving it, seeing no one attending to the horses, looked panicked and hurried to park the rig and help unhitch Devon’s carriage horses.

  “Amanda must be back. Gary, go get someone to help Jenkins.”

  “My servant can help as well.”

  Selina was about to pro
test when a maid running from the house delivered a whispered message.

  “Tell mother I shall be in as soon as I have cooled my horse.”

  “I can walk them both at once,” Gary said.

  “Oh, thank you so much.” She had not meant the comment to sound cutting, but it did, and Devon raised an eyebrow. Her father turned to Selina with a sad smile. “I know you want to stay with Taffy, and for certain they will be hard pressed to carry on without you. But humor your mother just this once, Selina, child.”

  “Very well.”

  Devon tried to focus on Chalice rather than Selina’s reluctant steps toward the house and wished she could have stayed. It was exciting seeing all the horses, weighing in his mind if he should buy one. He did not want Sir Foley to give up stock he had raised for himself just because Dev was an applicant for Selina’s hand. She was entrancing and not at all what he was used too. No flirtation or other subtle arts, just a head held high, a prim little mouth poised to smile and those blue eyes that seemed to look right through you. He had been dreading this visit, had only been cajoled into coming because his father had made the arrangements. Now he was feeling elated, as though life was finally going to take a good turn for him. Here was a woman who would not drive him crazy with missish airs, a woman who could run an estate as easily as he could. If only he had known, he would have sold his commission a year earlier.

  * * * * *

  An hour later Selina scowled at herself in the mirror. Her skin was much too sun browned to wear white. Mother never listened to her. But she softened the contrast with an amber shawl and tied the thing in a knot at her breast so that she did not have to worry about it sliding off. A string of pearls and she was ready for her mother’s inspection. But if she went down now, perhaps she could miss all that last minute fussing. She had washed her hands and face and run a brush through her hair. Other than that there was little she could do, but it didn’t matter. Devon didn’t want her anyway.

  She ran down the steps to the drawing room and sat down at the pianoforte to practice her piece when she realized Devon was already there. He left the fireplace and came to stand by the instrument.

  “Are we to be entertained tonight?”

  She gulped and stared into his laughing eyes. He had indeed taken the time to change clothes and he looked so crisp and pressed she felt inferior when reflecting on her slapdash preparations. “You are an optimist. You will no doubt be subjected to my playing. If you have any sense you will claim fatigue after the port and retire.”

  “I’m sure you do yourself an injustice.”

  “Coming from London, I suppose your expectations might be higher than those of our usual guests.”

  He shook his head, his fine brown hair falling across his brow. “I am also from the country and that is where my heart lives.”

  “Mine too. I wish never to live in town.”

  “Not even to visit?”

  “No. Where is your estate?” She began fingering the keys in case there should be an awkward pause in conversation.

  “Northampton. Country much like this.”

  “Then it won’t seem strange to the horses.” She played a chord and let in hang in the air. “And eventually they will forget this place.”

  He backed up a pace. “What horses?”

  “The ones you will buy from Father.”

  His head twitched a little. “Does everyone who comes to visit rob you of your horses?”

  She could feel her mouth draw down, for that was always how she thought of the purchases. How odd that he understood. “Yes, everyone.”

  “You sound so sad. You don’t have to sell them, do you?”

  “It’s not easy letting them go, but we can’t keep all of them. Have you decided?” She looked up at his puzzled expression.

  “Decided on what?”

  “I’m sorry. You may not want any of the horses you’ve seen so far. We have others out in the pastures.”

  “Oh, that. I admire the chestnut you were riding. Why is he named Chalice?”

  “Because he is so precious. He’s my favorite. Riding him is like flying.”

  “I could tell.”

  She began to pick out the melody so as not to look him in the face. “You didn’t tell Father we almost upset your carriage.”

  “No. How did you know I didn’t tattle?”

  “Oh, I could tell. Father’s in a good mood. And a man in a good mood can sometimes be persuaded to do unwise things.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the feather. She recognized it and took it from him, their fingers brushing in the exchange which seemed so intimate. “Thank you. I had thought it lost for good.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Lady Foley came in and smiled as she came to take Devon’s hand. Selina snapped to attention and made the introduction. “You honor us with your visit, sir. Selina, are you trimming hats in here?”

  “Uh, no.” She rose and tucked the feather into the bookcase. “Is Sir Timothy joining us tonight?”

  “No, your father forgot to invite him.”

  Selina breathed a sigh of relief, and for some reason that produced a look of concern on Devon’s face. “Sir Timothy is our old neighbor.”

  “Selina, what a way to describe him.”

  “Well he is older than Papa.”

  “Perhaps I’ll get to meet him on some future visit.”

  Lady Foley’s eyes widened. “Sir, surely you don’t mean to run away from us tomorrow. Foley will want to show you the estate and no doubt every horse on the place. It could take weeks.”

  Devon laughed. “I plan to stay as long as you will put up with me. It is obvious how much Foley loves his horses.”

  “Lord Tocqueville was here last month and Papa wouldn’t sell him anything.”

  “Selina, you should not gossip.”

  Devon nodded. “I have heard about Tocqueville’s visit.”

  “Really? But who told you?” Selina demanded.

  “The man himself. I suppose he tried to ride roughshod over your father.”

  “Yes and he cut Chalice’s mouth with the bit. I don’t think Papa will ever forgive him for that.”

  “Which is why I plan to be on my best behavior with the horses. It will be a coup if I can get your father to let me ride one of them.”

  Selina found herself smiling at Devon. He was a flatterer and perhaps had catered to her father, but his manner with the horses was genuine. She might not be able to detect a fraud, but they certainly could.

  Her father and Gary came in then, and she found herself led in to dinner by Devon. She also saw a speculative look in her mother’s eyes. That was foolish since Devon was only being polite.

  With the presentation of the first course, Selina realized her mother had outdone herself. Instead of paying attention to conversation she lost herself in enjoyment of the salmon, the green peas and mushrooms, the turtle soup and a confusing display of side dishes usually reserved for holidays.

  When she did look up, Devon was smiling at her and she felt herself blushing. A hard look from her mother reminded her of her social obligations.

  “Sir, I have been meaning to ask. Are you seeking only hunters?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “I rather thought that you meant to set up a stud.” She noticed her mother wince at that forthright word.

  “The notion has occurred to me, though I would never presume to rival Sir Foley’s business. My own father did not neglect his lands, but has never had much use for horses except for pulling carriages or plowing fields. I have acquired half a dozen mares of good breeding during my travels and want to see how I shall do.”

  “But that is excellent news.” He would want a stallion, but only one, and he would not want Chalice because of the odd color.

  “Must we always talk of horses?” Lady Foley demanded.

  Selina swallowed, desperately canvassing her mind for some other safe topic of conversation. “So you don’t mean to reside in London?”<
br />
  “My parents and sister use the house there. I prefer the country myself. I suppose I will have to put in an appearance when the season starts since my sister Clara is coming out. Have you been presented yet?”

  “No, but I don’t want to be.”

  Her mother leaned forward. “Next year Selina will be eighteen and my sister promises to sponsor her. She has her own daughter to bring out this season.”

  “You will like London,” Devon said confidently.

  “Really, I had convinced myself I would not.”

  “Do you like to dance, go to the theater, shop?”

  Selina thought for a moment. “No, not really.”

  “Then you are an exception among young women.”

  Another glare from her mother brought Selina up short, and she traded looks with Devon. A smile tugged at his mouth that she could not help but acknowledge. London might not be so bad if he was there. He made everything seem so comfortable. It was as though they had a secret together but there was none. He seemed like a man you could trust a horse to, but tomorrow would tell the tale. Should she let him ride Chalice just to see how he did? Or would it be better to mount him on Tudor, since that is the stud she wanted him to take.

  She spent the better part of dinner matching Devon up with just the perfect horses in her mind. Finally her mother stood up in disgust.

  “The ladies will withdraw now.”

  Chapter Two

  Dev watched Sir Foley open the port, then glance at Gary and say, “Would you mind checking on Taffy. If anything happens to that mare, Selina will never forgive me.”

  The lad had his father’s hazel eyes and calm manner, while Selina favored her mother.

  “Just thinking about that myself.” Gary tossed his napkin on the table and strode out.

  After his son had exited, Foley passed the decanter to Devon.

  “Selina thinks you are just here for the horses.”

  Devon smiled. “Has she scared off many suitors that way?”