by Claudy Conn
Sir Edward astride a large and flashy Gray came toward her. Her heart began to flutter so wildly that she almost put a hand to her chest to keep it from taking flight.
She was intimidated and excited all at once. She was anxious and thrilled. She was…oh my, she was absolutely losing her mind, she told herself.
“Miss Berkley,” Sir Edward said as he approached, with an inclination of his handsome head. “Are you here…alone?”
She heard disapproval in his voice and sat up straight and defensively. His tone whipped her back into shape and she found the voice she had been certain was lost, was right back where it should be. “Hallo, Sir Edward, and yes…I am quite and thankfully alone.” She eyed him with a challenge, “After all…I am still on Berkley land.” She couldn’t help but notice that he looked dashing in his dark blue riding coat and pale breeches. His Hessians were brightly polished, his top hat slightly angled, and his steed was completely prime. As Star’s love of horses over-rode all else, she was able to look the animal over with great admiration and offered, “He…” she said with some show of surprise, “did not come from Jules’ stable.”
Edward laughed. “No, Prancer is my own. My staff arrived at Jules’ estate yesterday with my coach and Prancer in tow. The trip from Brighton was good for him, took off his edginess. I am afraid he doesn’t much care for London or Brighton. He likes the wide open.”
“Well, I am in sympathy with him on that score. He certainly is special. Do you hunt him?”
“With great pleasure.” Sir Edward smiled at her and his smile for some inexplicable reason brought the heat to her cheeks. “We hunt the North country—no easy sport there.”
“Meaning the South--here is easy?” she said, her chin up.
He laughed with genuine amusement. “Do not take affront, Miss Berkley. All I meant was that we have some rather interesting banks and walls to fly when on a chase, which…” he cocked his head at her in some show of superiority, “you don’t encounter in this area.”
“Perhaps not,” she conceded reluctantly. “But then, we have marsh, streams, and all manner of obstacles that you lack in the North. He was an arrogant specimen and needed some taking down, she thought. Why was he looking at her so keenly…and so thoroughly as though seeing her for the first time?
He cleared his throat and asked, “Do you ride anywhere in particular or are you just exercising your…” he looked at her animal with undisguised disdain, “…horse?”
Star took instant umbrage. She adored her Butch. Indeed, he wasn’t a showy horse and he was nearly fifteen years old, but he was dear and honest. Her free hand went to her hip. “Butch here takes me safely over my fences, even when I err. He hunts and manages to stay right with the hounds. He has served me willingly and lovingly for years and years and I shall thank you to respect that which counts as much as flash ever could.”
He went quiet and Star could not read his thoughts, but he inclined his head and said, “Touché, Miss Berkley. I do believe you are quite right.”
“As to where I ride, I am going to visit Miss Madison,” she told him in one of her formal accents.
“Oh?” he said apparently unaffected by the cold shoulder she was giving him. “I thought the Madison estate was northwest of here…closer to Berkley Grange.”
“Indeed, it is,” Star answered without explanation.
“And yet…here you are?”
“If you must know, I veered off a bit to simply enjoy the day, but I am now, if you will excuse me, about to make my way to Madison,” she said moving her horse forward.
“Would you mind a little company?” Sir Edward asked.
“Yours?” she returned ruefully and admitted to herself that while she did want his company, she didn’t know why she should. He seemed at odds with her, so why then prolong the agony. She was very sure he did not like or approve of her. It was a sobering thought that dashed her hopes.
He laughed openly. “I rather deserved that.” His eyes found hers.
Star found herself nearly mesmerized by his glance. She had to get control over her nerves. Why should such an arrogant, proud man have such an effect on her? He was obviously worldly and she was not. He was also most obvious in his disapproval of the manner in which she conducted herself. She should not allow his good looks to sway her at all. He was certainly not her sort. No doubt he was simply amusing himself at her expense.
“You did deserve that and probably a bit more,” she answered. “You should also know that my Butch here, though aged, is a champion full of heart.”
He put up a hand, “Acquit me, I spoke like a dolt and do beg your forgiveness. I have a horse, now out to pasture, that I rode to the hunt and in the steeplechase for years and years. He had French blood in him and although big, his Roman nose was too Roman, his roan coat too spotted and we took a great deal of abuse from my friends because of his looks. However, he too, was a champion in his day. I should have known better than to judge a book by its cover.”
His little speech was disarming and his smile devastatingly charming. Was he simply telling her a story? She eyed him doubtfully, “Is that true?”
He chuckled, “Why would I admit to such a thing? Not an impressive tale at all, is it?”
“Well, for one thing, I don’t think you care about impressing me and for another, I can’t imagine you sitting anything less than Prancer.”
“So there you are, Miss Berkley, you don’t really know me,” he answered quietly. “I should like you to…as I would like to get to know you.”
She dimpled, and ignoring the flirtation in the words said, “Right then, is Prancer all flash and no go?”
“Shall we put him to the test for your edification?”
She beamed, “Oh, I would love to see him in action,” she nodded at the fence line. “I’ll bet he is a sweet goer.”
They had reached the clearing with the pasture ahead and he said, “What about right now?” He then quietly asked his horse with scarcely more than a squeeze to bound forward.
Star watched for a moment, admiring his gait and then said, “Come on Butch, let’s catch up and take the fence.”
The old horse charged forward and was less than five feet behind when she watched Prancer take Sir Edward flying over the line fence.
It was a lovely picture for both man and horse were in fine form. She let Butch take her to the fence, for he too was a wonderful jumper and up and over they went.
Breathless and happy she pulled up along Sir Edward who sat his horse watching her.
“Such good fun, thank you. He is certainly prime,” she said.
“Thank you,” he answered and arched a look at her. “I have to admit, I am impressed with your horse as well.”
She beamed, “Now, I wanted to tell you that I was naughty the other day when I teased you. If you are indeed recovering from a broken heart, then it was not kind of me to poke fun.”
“Why do you say it as though it is impossible to believe?” he frowned at her.
“Well…for one thing, look at you!” she answered as their horses fell in step beside one another.
“A difficult task out here, as I have no looking glass,” he teased. “Is something wrong with the way I look?”
“No. Quite the opposite. You look perfect,” she returned. This time there was no mistaking the slight derision in her tone.
“Now, why do I feel as though I should apologize for being the object of your very flattering compliment?”
She looked at him sharply before her sense of humor tickled her and she said, “Oh, I didn’t mean quite anything by it…only just… well… you are what Vern would say is top sawyer material, a rogue of sorts…and if you weren’t so large, perhaps even a Bow Street Dandy.”
“Oh now, I do object!” he said with some heat. “A dandy, indeed!”
She laughed. “No, no. Of course not a dandy! Everything about you is a shade too sporting for that, in spite of your fashionable cut.” She eyed him, saw that his thighs were
muscular and his shoulders broad, she realized what she was doing and looked away. “You are, however, not the sort…I just can’t see you pining away for some woman. You don’t have the look of a man who has lost the love of his life.”
He smiled at her, “Don’t I? What should a man look like when he has lost the love of his life?”
“Ah, a good question. I have a dear friend…actually a friend of my brother’s and when he lost Lucy to consumption…he couldn’t eat, drink or even smile. He almost withered away before Vern and his friends were able to get him through it and it took months upon months. Of course, he was only a few years older than Vern at the time, but it made a lasting impression on me.”
“Perhaps I just am not the sort that pines in that way?” he returned thoughtfully.
“Indeed. Even so, you just don’t appear to be quite totally devastated. Thus, I can’t say you look as though you have a broken heart.” She eyed him and added, “No, it doesn’t make sense. Any of it. Tell me why she wouldn’t accept your suit, for you are quite handsome, sporting, titled and from the look of you, well able to take care of a wife…” she sighed and stopped herself.
“Ho, although I am enjoying all this flattery, I hear a but coming.”
She smiled, “Indeed, I am curious…you are all these things, but…your lady actually still said no?”
“Love is a peculiar thing. She loved someone else and I didn’t realize it in time. I did an outrageous thing…unspeakable…” he still couldn’t believe that he had actually abducted Lady Babs.
“Oh? I wonder what that unspeakable thing was?” she said curiously. “However, I fear you aren’t quite ready to speak of it yet, so tell me, who was your rival?” Star asked with sympathy lining her words.
“Ah, suffice it to say that he was quite a catch.”
“I see. Still, I find it hard to imagine that she did not fall in love with you and all your charms.”
He laughed, “Again, I am not sure if you are baiting me or complimenting me. Baiting me no doubt.” He sighed. “No, to answer you, she never allowed my charms as you say to overcome those of my rival.”
“He must have been someone very special indeed…at least to her,” she said almost to herself.
Sir Edward laughed with genuine appreciation, “Why, thank you, and yes, I suppose one might think a duke quite special indeed.”
“A duke?” she returned with interest. “How exciting, you lost out to no one less than a duke, but tell me, who…which duke?”
“Ah, some things I must keep to myself,” he answered softly.
“Does that mean you will never tell me?”
“Probably not.”
“Not even when you know me better?” she pursued.
“If instinct serves me, there will be even less chance of my telling you when I get to know you better.” He grinned broadly at her and reached over to flick her nose.
She liked his touch. She smiled softly and told him, “That is most disagreeable of you, but never mind, I shall work on it.” Her eyes twinkled, for they had reached the small pasture behind the Madison stables. Star was all too aware that she didn’t want these moments with him to end.
“Here is where we part company, for that is Georgie’s place,” she said.
“Tell me, do you attend the Sefton Ball tonight?” he asked curiously.
Star sighed heavily. She had wanted to go to this ball above all things, even more so when she realized that Sir Edward would be there. He was entertaining and conversation with him was easy and lively.
In addition to that, she and Georgie had helped one another with their gowns. They had taken their mother’s beautiful ball gowns, adjusted, trimmed, cut, sewn and come up with masterpieces. How sad to think they would not get to wear them.
“I am afraid not,” she said sadly.
“Oh?” he was surprised. “Jules tells me it is the grandest affair of the summer. I am sadly disappointed. I had hoped you would be there and liven up the evening.” His hazel eyes were brightly lit.
He was teasing her again, but she didn’t mind. She saw reluctant affection deep in the recesses of his eyes and sighed. No doubt he liked her, but thought her no more than an amusing schoolgirl, in spite of the fact that she was over twenty years old.
“Don’t you want to know why we won’t be there?” she asked when he didn’t.
His brow went up and he said on a chuckle, “You are the most audacious little brat I have ever encountered. I assumed it was because your brother is still unwell and therefore, unable to escort you.”
“That’s right, so both Georgie and I won’t be there.”
“Jules and I will have a very dull evening without you two, of that I am certain. I am persuaded you and Miss Madison are the loveliest creatures in all of Rye,” he answered and his hazel eyes glinted gold as he found hers and looked deep.
Ruefully Star countered, “I rather think you two will manage to go on without us.” So saying, she inclined her head and turned her horse away from him, “Good day, Sir Edward.”
He tipped his hat to her, “Miss Berkley—I hope my company was not too much of an intrusion on your ride?”
She laughed and threw at him, “At first I thought it might be, but no, I enjoyed your company.” She hurried forward, but just as she put distance between them she took a peek over her shoulder and saw him still in place watching her retreating form. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she went on.
Sir Edward Danton had not only taken a place in her mind, he had somehow loomed above all others. His company always sent tickling flutters of excitement through her. He was like no other man of her acquaintance. Everything about him drew on her inner soul and told her he was worth the effort. She wondered fleetingly what unspeakable thing he had done. He obviously regretted it, so she shoved it aside.
What did it all mean? Could he be the one she had been waiting for all her adult years? Her mind objected, but her body and heart were one in accord on this. Was she simply fooling herself because he was so dashing—so attractive? She sighed and told herself that perhaps his latest experience with the woman who had hurt him might have spoiled him for another. Had he really suffered a genuine heartache? She found it ridiculously absurdly that an awful snake of green had traveled through her veins and shut it down. He didn’t look heartbroken. He didn’t act heartbroken and she was fairly certain he was not.
He was, however, quite a challenge. Is that why she was interested? Because he was a challenge? That was a question she should and must consider. What did it all matter? She was fairly certain he was merely entertaining himself. He thought her a brat, an imp, a child. She could see that he found her attractive but that wasn’t meaningful. Men were forever casting out lures and dallying with women they found pretty.
What she wanted was more. What she wanted was a love for all time. What she wanted—oh was he what she wanted?
Chapter Seven
VERN STRETCHED AND moved slowly across his room. He could not and would not allow his sister to miss this ball. He had quite made up his mind.
He stood, unsteadily and put his hand to the glass of the lead paned window overlooking the green gently rolling hills in the distance.
His lawns were no longer manicured, his gardens and yard were infested with weeds and he grimaced at the sight. He saw the flower beds glaring up at him with their unsightly borders. Once they had sported such beauty, now overgrown and full with coarse vegetation.
He was twenty-two and he told himself he should be able to bring things around. Yes, but how? He was a grown man. Still, he had not yet found a way, at least not a noncriminal way, to set his home in order.
What was wrong with him?
His door opened and he turned to the sound of a familiar and welcome voice.
“Hallo, halfling,” Miles Denning said with a wide grin.
Vern stared at his lifelong friend and grinned broadly. Miles was the best of the best, he thought. “Look at you,” he said merrily, in
spite of his weakened state. “Dressed to the nines.” He tried to step toward him and wobbled.
Miles was there in the flash of a moment and had Vern’s weight firmly leaning against him, “Steady ‘ole boy…steady.”
Vern coughed and gave him a weak smile as his friend led him to the bed and deposited him there, saying, “You can cover yourself, I’m not your nursemaid.” His affectionate grin mitigated the words.
Vern smiled weakly and did just that. He regarded his friend thoughtfully as his musings had suddenly came together and he said while still trying to put his meanderings into a coherent suggestion, “Well then my fine dandy, what brings you here? And what the devil are you wearing?”
Miles laughed, ran a hand over his lightweight blue coat, “Too much do you think? It is the height of fashion, you know.”
“It might be, but not with all that wadding in the shoulders. Though I understand your need, since you have none to fall back on,” Vern teased with an accompanying chuckle.
“Can’t hurt to make the ladies look twice,” Miles beamed not at all insulted.
“Those tight fitted britches look absurd on you. You are too tall and lanky for ‘em,” said Vern still grinning mischievously. “And your hair! What have you done my man, pomading it into a roll like that?”
“You have never had any sense of…”
“Brummell would not approve,” Vern announced.
“Tis m’own style…thought I’d…”
“Don’t think, brush it out, Miles, you look like a damn quiz,” Vern interrupted him with a laugh and then coughed for a few moments.
Miles frowned as his friend’s coughing fit subsided and sighed before responding, “I am here to make you feel better. I heard you were not up to par, but if you are going to continue to insult me, ‘ole friend, I shall leave you to wallow on your sickbed alone.”
Vern grinned as he saw the twinkle in his friend’s light brown eyes. “Not quite stout yet, but I shall be. I am surprised to see you here. Thought you wouldn’t come around till you were pretty sure you’d be safe from infection.” If he had the strength he would have punched his friend’s arm with the words.