by Gill, Tamara
“Well’ I suppose’ that’s because your son the duke invited us, not you. So technically you’re not hosting us anything,” Ava said, taking a sip of her tea as if the conversation were about the weather.
There was a light knock at the door and a footman came in carrying tea and pastries before any more words could be spoken.
Tate had heard enough though, and walking over to his mother, he took her hand and pulled her to stand. “Please excuse us a moment,” he said.
His mother smiled, but did not say another word as he towed her out of the room. Once safely out in the hall near the stairs, he rounded on her. “What has come over you? How could you be so rude? I warned you in London about such behavior. I will not stand for it.”
His mother’s face mottled in anger, her eyes flashing ire. “Do not bring that woman here again. She is not welcome and it’s not fit for the likes of us, a Duke and a Duchess, to have to sit and have tea with a horse trainer.”
Tate fought to rein in his fury. He took a step closer, pointing a finger at her upturned nose. “I will not have you speak to anyone that I invite into my home in such a way. You have a choice, Mother. Either go back into the parlor, apologize to Ava and be civil, or you can leave this estate.”
His mother gasped. “You would oust your own Mother? The woman who gave birth to you for some servant who threw herself at your head before you were old enough to understand the implications of your foolish, youthful actions.”
Tate ground his teeth, having heard enough. “Instruct your maid to repack your bags, if she’s even finished unpacking them. You’re leaving first thing tomorrow for London.”
His mother stormed up the stairs. “I will not be going anywhere, Tate, and do not force my hand or I’ll never forgive you.”
Tate took a moment to regain his composure before re-entering the parlor, only to find it empty. He went back out into the hall, and opened the front door and in the distance, up near the stables he could see Ava and her friend getting back upon their mounts.
“Damn it,” he swore, watching them a moment before closing the door. This was not how he wanted his time with Ava to end today after being away a week. His mother’s presence here was going to make his time with Ava difficult and he would have to be on guard when she was present. For if one thing was for certain, his mother was up to no good and was hell bent, it would seem, in keeping them apart with any means possible, even blatant rudeness.
Chapter 9
I trusted in your love, your words and still I cannot understand how I could have been so wrong. That all that time you were trapped in an understanding you did not want. I’m sorry that you felt you could not be honest with me.
– An Excerpt from a letter from Miss. Ava Knight to the Duke of Whitstone
Ava pushed Gallant Girl as fast as she could go down the gallop they trained the horses on. Today they were testing to see if the horse would make good time in a sprint and with any luck, win a few races leading up to Ascot.
“Great work,” her head trainer said as she slowed the horse into a canter and eventually a trot. The horse’s breathing was rapid, and in the crisp morning air, steam rose from both her body and out her nostrils.
Ava’s heart gave a little flip when she spied Tate standing beside her manager. He was taller than those about him, and today he was dressed in a large great coat with a gray fox fur collar snuggled close about his neck and keeping him warm. His wool cap finished off his casual look, and yet each time she saw him, he drew her in, tempted her like no-one ever had before. Tempted her away from the life she had worked so hard to secure herself within.
She checked her face for any mud from the few horses that had been riding ahead of her and hoping she didn’t look a sight, smiled. “What a pleasant surprise, Your Grace. I did not expect to see you here this early in the morning.” She gave the horse one last rub and pat on her neck before sliding off. A young groom came over and took the horse’s reins from her, before leading Gallant Girl back toward the stables where she’d get a well-earned rubdown.
“I was up early,” the duke replied. “A little issue with the stables back home and thought to come and oversee my horses since they’re still stabled here.”
Ava had hoped he’d wanted to see her, but she nodded glad to see him no matter what reason. “Very good then, Your Grace.”
Greg held up his pocket watch, smiling. “Good run today, Miss Ava. We may have a chance yet.”
“Chance?” the duke asked, looking between them.
“We want to run Gallant Girl in Ascot next year. We think she has a chance of placing and she’s never been more fit.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Greg said, tipping his hat. “I’ll be off then. I shall see you later, Miss Ava.”
Ava nodded and turned her attention back to Tate who stood watching her. His intense inspection of her left her breathless and she hoped he did not notice the heat infusing her face right at this moment.
“If you have Gallant Girl racing at Ascot we may be up against each other.” His deep voice made it hard to concentrate on what he was saying.
Ava pulled herself together and focused. “I have no hopes of winning, certainly not up against Titan, but I do hope to place. I think my Gallant Girl is capable of that.”
“I would never doubt it.” He gestured them to walk toward the house. “Can I escort you back to the house? There is something that I wish to discuss with you.”
Ava studied him a moment and noticed his brow was furrowed. “Is there something the matter, Your Grace?” she asked.
He frowned, his mouth downcast. She didn’t like seeing him so and she had an overwhelming urge to comfort him. A reaction she’d not had these past five years, not for anyone. “There has been another fire. This time it was at Lord and Lady Morton’s estate in south Berkshire. The blaze started in the middle of the night, and sadly they’ve lost two horses and a stable lad.” Tate rubbed a hand over his jaw and Ava realized he’d not shaved this morning.
“Oh dear God, no.” Ava blinked back tears for the young stable boy’s life which had been cut short and that of the poor horses. “How are Lord and Lady Morton?”
“Devastated, I would presume. I'm heading over there now and I wanted to know if you would like to come with me. Lady Morton may need a friend at this time, and I know she’s very fond of you.”
Ava was very fond of both Lord and Lady Morton in return. Lady Morton in particular had helped her through her troubles only last year, a support during a time that she’d prefer to forget. A cold shiver ran down her spine and she pushed the alarming memories away.
They were an elderly couple, and reminded Ava often of her own father who’d loved horses and country life and who hadn’t been looking for anything grander than what was outside his front door. Her ladyship had been only too happy to give up Society and settle in the country and Ava had always loved that about them. They had done what made them happy and forgot what everyone else thought of the fact. A dream she and the duke once held themselves, but now with his many responsibilities away from Berkshire, she wasn’t so sure he could leave London for months on end and bury himself in the country.
“Of course I’ll come with you.” Ava called out for her mare, Manny and within minutes they were cantering over the fields heading south toward the Mortons’ estate.
With dew still on the ground and the birds tweeting their morning song, the sun rose to the side of them, warming the land and bringing forth a new day. Ava couldn’t help but think of the terrible tragedy that the Morton’s and the young stable lad’s family would be going through right at this time.
“Do you think this fire has been started deliberately as well, Your Grace?”
Tate, riding beside her glanced her way and his look of contempt told her without words that he believed so. “The missive I received from Lord Morton stated a worker had witnessed a dark figure running from the stable where the first fire took hold. The worker raised the alarm st
raight away, and yet the stables took hold very quickly and it was out of hand before much could be done.”
“You’ll inform the Runner about this new incident.”
Tate nodded. “I’ve sent my letter along with Lord Morton’s for evidence about the fire. I’m sure the Runner will be in Berkshire in the coming days. I’ve asked him to stay, incognito of course, and see what he can find out.”
“I think that is best,” she said.” They rode for half an hour, the entire trip should not take them any longer than an hour in total. Tate slowed his mount as they came to a copse of trees and Ava followed suit. Her mind had been a whir of thoughts over the fires that were oddly circling her own estate. There was one other neighbor close by and she would send a note around to them to be on guard. Better to be safe than sorry.
“We shall rest the horses for a few minutes and continue on.”
Ava pulled up beside him, and giving Manny some rein, allowed her to nibble on the grass at her feet. She took the opportunity to look around their surroundings. A flash of movement in the valley beyond caught her attention and she narrowed her eyes trying to see what it was that had moved.
“What is that over there in the trees?” She pointed toward where she’d seen the movement last and Tate followed suit. “Is that a man riding a horse along the base of the meadow?”
The person riding unawares that Ava and Tate were watching, came out of a wooded area and she caught sight of him. He was dressed in dark clothing, a long great coat and hat that was pulled low over his face, covering his features. He was headed north and seemed to be coming from a southerly direction. Odd, considering a man who was similarly dressed had just burned down the stables south of here…
“We should ride down and see who it is. Considering there has been a fire only hours ago, and now we see this gentleman riding north, it would only be right to question him. He may have seen someone or something,” the duke said, continuing to watch.
Or he could be the culprit. Ava didn’t say the words aloud, but she couldn’t help but wonder. There was somebody in the area that was starting these fires. It could be anyone of their acquaintance or a stranger. At this point in time they could not exclude a soul.
Tate picked up his reins and kicked his mount forward. Ava did the same and they cantered toward the man, all the while the rider heading north had not noticed them. As they neared, the low thud of hooves on the damp sod beneath them made the gentleman aware of their presence.
He looked up, clearly surprised, and Ava pulled up her horse when she noticed he had a scarf tied about his face, covering his mouth and nose. Only his eyes were visible, but at this distance she still would never have been able to make out who it might be, if they knew him at all.
Without hesitation the man kicked his mount hard, and pushed the horse into a hard gallop. That his intention was to flee made the hair on the back of her neck rise, and Tate took chase, urging his horse in the direction the rider had gone.
They raced after him. The rider continued to push hard to get away from them, and Ava followed Tate over a small hedgerow, weaving their way through trees and across fields that didn’t seem to slow the questionable man in the least.
The rider looked over his shoulder, and Ava heard him curse. Knowing Berkshire as well as she did, Ava realized they were coming to a part of the area that had a stream running through up ahead, some parts of it deep enough to swim in while others were shallow.
“He’ll have to slow to pass the stream,” she shouted out to Tate, pointing to the waterway that was now coming into view.
Tate nodded. “We’ll get him there and find out what he’s about.”
Coming out of a small wooded area, a tree branch flicked back and hit Ava in the cheek, bringing tears to her eyes. She swiped at the sting, bringing her gloves away to see a little blood on them.
They followed him to the stream, and when Ava thought the man would halt and answer for his flight, he merely pushed his horse into the water to wade through. The horse’s footing slipped and the man grappled for a moment, trying to keep his seat.
“Halt,” Tate yelled, which the rider ignored, coming to the other side of the stream. “Why are you running?”
The man didn’t bother to answer them, merely headed up a small hill. They lost sight of him a moment before Ava, studying the trees, found him again. She stilled at the sight of a flintlock pointed directly at them.
Tate pushed his mount forward, and Ava reached over, grabbing his arm. “He’s armed, Tate. Look,” she said, edging her horse backwards.
“Damn,” Tate mumbled, doing the same. It was too late to run and they were both out in the open, sitting targets, when one thought about such things.
The man raised the flintlock and she quickly turned her horse, knowing they needed to get as far away as possible. A shot rang out through the area and Ava’s horse reared. She grappled for a hold, but couldn’t, and then she realized it was not only her that was going to fall. Flying backwards, her horse lost her footing and toppled as well. Ava came down hard and a searing pain tore up her arm from her wrist to her shoulder.
Manny thankfully didn’t land on her, but rolled next to her before regaining her footing again and standing.
The sound of a retreating horse echoed in the trees and then the comforting arms of Tate about her person as he kneeled beside her, his eyes wild with fear as he looked her over for a bullet wound or some kind of injury from her fall.
“I’m well. I merely fell, that is all.” Ava went to stand and grimaced in pain when her arm rejected the movement.”
“You’re hurt,” he said, helping to support her.
Ava tried to move her shoulder and found it well enough, but when she tried to move her wrist, pain shot through the joint. “My wrist, I think,” she grimaced.
Tate ripped the cravat from about his neck and wrapped it about her wrist, attempting to limit movement. Ava couldn’t help but glimpse Tate’s exposed neck now that his cravat was about her wrist and for a moment she forgot about the man on the hill and the danger they could still be in.
She glanced over her shoulder to where she’d seen him last, but no-one was there.
“He rode off the moment the gun went off. I’m so sorry to have put you in danger, Ava. I should not have had you chase him with me.”
She shook her head as he helped her to stand. With her good arm she dusted down her riding attire and picked a few leaves and twigs out of her hair. “No-one is to blame but him for what happened here today. Neither of us knew what he was going to do.”
Tate did not look persuaded, but he helped her over to her horse, checking over Manny quickly, and giving her the all-clear of any wounds.
“Do you think you can ride?”
“I think so, but I’ll need help getting up in the saddle.” Within a moment of the words being spoken aloud, Tate scooped her up as if she were as light as air and sat her on the saddle.
He whistled for his own mount and adjusting her arm to be against her chest for the ride home. He hoisted himself up on his horse, giving her a lovely view of his bottom. “Thank you,” she said, tearing her gaze away, but not before he caught her ogling his rear end.
“Come, we’ll head back to your estate and I’ll have a doctor sent for straight away. If the wrist is broken, he’ll know what to do.”
Ava hoped it wasn’t so, and was merely a sprain. The ride home was uncomfortable, but the bandage about her wrist did help in some way to stop the hand from moving and jerking the joint.
Tate glanced at her often, his eyes shrouded with concern, and her heart warmed that he cared. It was nice the two of them being friends again. She had missed him more than she admitted even to herself. “You were always looking out for others. Even now, so many years since we first met and you’re still a caring soul, no matter how much you may try to dissuade me of that fact.”
“Not caring enough since you’re injured.” He frowned. This is my fault,” he said again, glancing at
her hand that rested against her chest. “I should have gone after him by myself. Not placed you in danger as I did.”
“What good would that do?” Ava retorted, not wanting to hear him blaming himself in the least. “We did not know the man was armed, or that he would run. I do believe we can agree that the gentleman was up to no good and could possibly be the man starting the fires.”
He sighed, leaning over and supporting her back as the horses worked their way through an incline in the field. His warm hand against her spine sent shivers down it and she shut her eyes a moment, reveling in the feel of him again, of having him as close as he now was.
“I think you may be right. I suppose I shall be writing to the Runner again this evening.”
Ava threw him a smile. “I think so.” The ride home was slow. The weather took a turn for the worse, and when the sunlight disappeared behind a cloud, Ava regretted not bringing her heavier riding coat along with them.
“Are you cold?” he asked, pulling his horse to a stop. Ava did the same, looking up at the sky, it now looked like imminent rain.
“A little, but we should be home soon.” Not that such a thing helped since in truth she was quite chilled. She shivered again and Tate jumped off his horse, walking over to her and hoisting himself up behind her.
She stilled at the movement as his body came to sit hard up against hers. They’d not been this close since the day before the planned elopement and she swallowed, unsure of a sudden, what to do with herself.
Tate was quiet a moment and she wondered what he was thinking. His body was tense, hard and broad, shadowed hers to a point, and she smiled as he leaned forward, taking the reins from her and kicking the mount forward.
His own horse followed.
The scent of sandalwood permeated the air about her and brought with it a flood of memories of when he had courted her. Of how she’d kissed his neck one time in the large hay barn at his estate and how she’d loved the woody, earthy scent ever since. He shifted behind her with each step of the horse and heat bloomed on her cheeks.