Get rid of the beast? Princess was a horse he had worked years to acquire. Before leaving for the Peninsula, Radford had scoured the countryside for the perfect mare. The list of qualifications had covered three pages. The mare had to be a sturdy match for his powerful male, strong in areas where his best stallion was weak. The joining of two such animals should produce a horse worthy to be considered for the foundation of his stable.
Once such a horse had been located, Lyles, his stable manager, had worked for over a year to close the deal with the Duke of Grafton in Radford’s absence and arrange for his stallion to breed with the mare. The first horse born had been a male. A second breeding was required, since his stable needed a filly.
After six years of hard work, he had finally gotten to touch the results of his labor. She was a beautiful, lively young thing, too.
He would not give her up.
“It was just a silly bonnet, Mother,” Radford said. “Lady Lillian overreacted. Surprising really, she is supposedly a renowned horsewoman. A spirited filly shouldn’t have frightened her.” He thought of May then. She had been terrified to stand so close to the young horse. Her hand had shivered in his. Yet, she didn’t shrivel into a quivering mess when Princess attacked Lady Lillian’s bright ostrich-feathered hat.
Despite her fears, May had foolishly stepped between the startled horse and the hysterical Lady Lillian and prevented a true disaster. Amazing, really.
He’d seen her in a new light. A common lady dressed in a drab cotton gown and wearing a wide rimmed, straw bonnet with no ornamentation save for a single pale peach silk ribbon—she was by no means a raving beauty. But when he saw her leading his horse up the lane, he felt a sense of calm only the return to his Castlemain Hall and his vast fields of horses had ever given him. She was as earthy and natural as the spirited filly. He felt a strong sense of tenderness for Miss Sheffers. The silent attraction pulled him like none other.
“Radford!” His mother clapped her hands to recapture his attention. “Attend me. You aren’t taking this matter seriously enough. A young lady has delicate feelings. You must tread carefully.”
“Yes, Mother,” he said docilely. He’d agreed to marry, after all. And he had found Lady Lillian the woman who best matched his requirements. “I will send for flowers straight away.”
“And you will sell your new mare.” His mother would not let the point pass without a firm commitment . . . one which Radford was unprepared to give.
“I will look into the matter.”
“You will sell the beast.”
“Not until I understand what happened. And I will not discuss this further.” He stole from the room with his mother’s gasp haunting his ears.
She had suffered as much as he had. She deserved to be pampered and surrounded by happy grandchildren. He would give that to her, even if he had to sacrifice a little to do so. He would go as far as marriage to a silly emotional young woman like Lady Lillian.
He would not, however, give up his dream of developing one of the best stables in England.
* * * *
“I will not let you crush her dreams like you did with mine, Sires.”
May was approaching the upstairs drawing room, which also served as the library, with the thought of seeking out the horridly romantic novel Udolpho to lose herself in when she heard her aunt’s raised voice. She’d been home only long enough to change out of her mud-splattered gown and tame her unruly curls. She had no idea her uncle had made a surprise visit.
What he must think of her! She’d abandoned her aunt all afternoon to pursue some frivolities of her own. And to what gain? Her heart had only slipped farther down the bottomless void of love while she bruised her pride, ruined her dress, and unsettled her mind by a fearsome beast with heavy hooves.
“Crush them?” Uncle Sires said in an even tone. May nearly had to press her ear to the drawing room door to hear him. “Is that what you believe? I am not a heartless monster, Winnie. I have her best interests in mind when I make these decisions . . . just as I had yours so many years ago.”
“She will never be happy with him. He is too old. Admit it, Sires. You only paraded him here to hurt me.”
“To hurt you, dear sister?” What he said after that was lost in the heavy wood door separating May from the interior of the drawing room. Besides, eavesdropping was beneath her. She should be in the room at her aunt’s side.
May hesitated for just a moment before pushing the door open, beaming a smile toward her aunt, and then providing her uncle with an obedient curtsy. “I hope I didn’t stray from home too long, Aunt,” she said softly and pretended she had not heard a word of their strained conversation.
“This is why I worry after you,” Uncle Sires said with a grand wave in May’s direction. “She is wild, unreliable. She should be here with you, not traipsing through town like some hoyden.”
“She is young,” Winnie said. “She needs to spend time with ladies and gentlemen nearer her age, not be cooped up with some weakened old biddy like me.”
“She’s not that young. Four-and-twenty. Some would claim the child is already well set on the shelf.”
“You are not an old biddy,” May said over Uncle Sires. It was rude to speak out of turn and interrupt the head of the family. But she felt she needed to explain how she had never tired of her aunt’s company. “You are a delightful companion and always full of clever conversation.”
“Please—” Uncle Sires turned on May. “—don’t spout falsehoods to cover for your shortcomings. We all know you cannot bear to remain under a roof for long stretches of time. You are your father’s spawn . . . naught but a gypsy dressed in fashionable rags.”
His insults rarely pained May. Over the years she’d come to expect them from him. But for a worrying minute, his charge troubled her. She was discovering that she did indeed prefer a romp outdoors to a quiet read in the drawing room’s window seat. Did that mean there was something innately wrong with her?
Radford had teased her earlier that morning. He’d called her a shameless hoyden. Had he truly believed that of her?
“I love Aunt Winnie. I have never regretted a moment spent with her,” May said slowly with what her uncle called her unfettered gypsy tongue. “You must know that, Aunt.”
Winnie gave a short nod. “You will cease this foolishness, Sires. I will not listen to your opinion. You do not know May as I do. I daresay you never will.”
“But you must agree, sister. Tumblestone’s farm will give May ample opportunity to live a life free from high society’s constraints. No one in the village will hold the circumstances of her birth against her. No one will snarl if she spends the afternoon under the blazing sun. She will be happy.”
Happy? Somehow May could not see it. How could she be happy married to a man she didn’t know? A man older than her own father. How could she be happy with Mr. Tumblestone when another filled her heart?
No matter how she felt or the heated way Radford looked at her, she was no naïve girl fresh from the schoolroom. She knew there could never be anything between them. Winnie had taught May to guard herself.
“She will not be happy,” Winnie proclaimed as she rose from the cushioned chair. “She will not be happy with him.”
“Be reasonable—” Uncle Sires began only to clamp his mouth closed when Winnie shot him a sour look. She struggled without the aid of a cane or May’s arm to gracefully leave the room with an air of hauteur lingering in her wake. The effort must have been great. Aunt Winnie was as gray as a ghost by the time she reached the stairs outside the door.
May charged after her, thinking to lend a hand, when Uncle Sires stepped in her path and blocked the door.
“My sister’s emotional outbreak has nothing to do with you, child.” He spoke down to her with broad, round tones that could still frighten May all the way to the tips of her toes. His cold, brown eyes remained fixed on her as he gathered up his cloak, hat, and gloves. “Walk with me.”
May lowered her h
ead and batted down a flaring desire to disobey him. “Yes, my lord,” she said suitably cowed.
Sires smiled, his lips thinning with the joyless expression. “Mr. Tumblestone is a fine gentleman, do you not agree?” he asked as they walked side by side down the narrow stairs. May was pressed up against the wall.
“I do not know him well enough to judge, my lord.” She had no great desire to learn more about Mr. Tumblestone, either. And now, with her aunt less than pleased with the match, May found her interests in Mr. Tumblestone fading fast. “He is old.”
“His age is of no great consequence, child. What with the rigors of the childbed, husbands naturally live much longer than their wives.”
That thought sobered May. “Has he buried many wives then?” she asked once they reached the front door.
“No, none. He has never been married, you see.”
“Never?” May found that hard to believe. He appeared to be a man of consequence, though meager when compared to her uncle’s standards, and he owned property. Such a man should have married to secure his future long before reaching an advanced age. “Why?”
“The reason is not important. He is willing to marry now. He is willing to marry you.”
The thought that a man, a consummate bachelor at that, should agree to marry a woman he had never met made May wary. “He was willing to take me as his wife before he met me. Why?”
“Why? To gain entrance into our family, of course.” He answered as if bucks and beaus should be banging down the door to offer their hand in marriage just to align their families with hers. Gracious, that was so far from the truth that May had to swallow a bubbling giggle that threatened to burst from her mouth.
“Do you have any more questions about him?” he asked. “I want you to feel comfortable when you accept his proposal next week.”
Accept his proposal next week? Sires must be mad.
“I-I don’t know him yet!” May shouted. “I can’t do it!”
His grim smile did not waver. “I will arrange for you to spend more time with him then. There is no need for all this womanly emotion. I am giving you a full week to become accustomed to the idea for Heaven’s sake.”
“You are giving me?” May sputtered, her anger now fully unleashed. “You-you are a pompous ass, my lord. You have no say in my life. None at all. I am only bowing to you and considering your wishes in deference to Aunt Winnie. If I choose to marry, it will be to the man of my picking . . . a man I can dearly love with all my heart. Something you surely know nothing about!”
Sires caught her chin in his thick hand and pinched it between his fingers. “You, child, will school your temper or else I will take a whip to you.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “I am still the head of this family and like it or not, you are part of my responsibility by my younger sister’s blood. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, my lord.” The answer came automatically.
His hand tightened on her chin. “You need to be beaten, child. This willfulness of yours is a bane to our entire family. Before you make any further rash decisions, consider your aunt’s health. Consider what your willful disobedience will do to her.”
He released her sore chin and looked as if he were contemplating abusing her right then and there. For several tense minutes the only sound in the hall came from a ticking grandfather clock. May held her ground and maintained eye contact with him the entire time.
“Consider your aunt,” he said as if May needed to be reminded. “I will bring Mr. Tumblestone by tomorrow morning.” Then he stormed from the house.
She would meet with Mr. Tumblestone in the morning, all right. Such a meeting would be most welcome for she planned to tell him exactly what she thought about her uncle’s heavy-handed attempt to marry her off to the first man he could find who would have her.
* * * *
After returning from their regular visit to the Pump Room the next morning, May donned a spotted muslin walking dress with short sleeves. Aunt Winnie had purchased the gown as a gift at the beginning of summer. May wasn’t particularly fond of the material. The rosy spots made her too noticeable. She much preferred the dull, faded colors filling her wardrobe. The gowns were worn and comfortable. Above all they allowed her to disappear into any social background, which pleased nearly everyone concerned.
However, since May had no plans to go visiting, she had chosen the dress to please her aunt. She didn’t mind sticking out in her own home. Let Mr. Tumblestone, who was due to arrive with her uncle within the hour, take notice of her. She wanted his complete attention when spurning his marriage offer.
Mr. Tumblestone was a kind man. She supposed he must be a good man. But, with Aunt Winnie’s blessing, May was determined not to become any man’s wife. If Uncle Sires persisted in holding her parents’ money ransom, she would simply seek employment as a lady’s companion.
With the details settled—at least in her mind—May waited anxiously for the men’s arrival. She looked forward to shocking her uncle while gently refusing the kindly old Tumblestone’s proposal.
The morning was bright and warm. Birds chirped pretty songs from high in the trees. Aunt Winnie was smiling again. Everything felt right.
The clock was striking the hour when Uncle Sires’ carriage rambled to a stop in front of the cottage. Portia put the kettle on the fire while May offered Winnie her arm and helped her settle into her favorite chair in the parlor.
“Be brave,” Winnie whispered a moment before the housekeeper led Sires and Tumblestone into the room. “As long as you are following your heart, you are doing the right thing.”
As the men crowded into the room, Winnie remained seated. She harrumphed a less than polite greeting. May, on the other hand, curtsied and murmured her welcomes. “The tea will be here presently,” she then told the men.
Mr. Tumblestone, his gray hair poking out from beneath his polished hat, smiled broadly at May. He took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
“I have been told that you and your uncle came to an agreement yesterday. Our future is forged. I am very happy.”
“So am I,” May said. She pried her hand from his bony grasp. “But you must allow me to speak, Mr. Tumblestone. No one can be certain of the future, do you not agree?”
“What nonsense are you spouting, child?” Uncle Sires approached, his round belly bounced with agitation. “I will permit no puzzling speech today. The banns have already been prepared. They are to be published this weekend. You will not confound us because your weak mind is suffering from a case of nerves.”
May tilted her head to one side and hazarded a glance toward her aunt. She sat serenely with her fingers steepled in front of her pursed lips. No one was going to come to her defense, May knew. She would have to do this on her own.
Her aunt’s presence in the room was support enough, she supposed. She didn’t want anyone fighting this battle for her. As a woman prepared to forge a new path in the world, she had to continue to think and act alone.
“I will strive to make my meaning as plain as possible, Uncle.” She smiled then and took the time to enjoy the tense calm. The silence would be short-lived. “Mr. Tumblestone, you have treated me with the greatest courtesy these past few days. For that, I am grateful.”
“You have a gentle manner, Miss Sheffers,” Tumblestone said. He produced a small box from an interior pocket of his coat. “We will rub together well. You will see.”
The lid of the box had been removed. A dazzling blue sapphire ring lay in a nest of pink silk.
The sight of the polished gold and glittering stone flustered May. She didn’t want his proposal. He wasn’t giving her time to explain.
“Please,” she took a step away from him. He was a very tall man and she had to crane her neck to peer into his eyes. “Please, put that away, sir.”
He took the ring from the box and followed her retreat. “I would rather slip it on your finger, Miss Sheffers.”
This was not going the way May had planned. They
were supposed to listen to her well-scripted speech—not interrupt. Panic welled inside her. No matter how far they pushed her into a corner, she would not give into her fiery gypsy passions and shout her rejection.
Last night she’d lost her temper with Uncle Sires. She would not do it now.
So instead of shouting how uncomfortable Mr. Tumblestone was making her feel, she lifted her chin just an inch and tightened her jaw. “Sir, I thank you for your interests.” Her tone was so devoid of emotion it sounded utterly flat. “But to be brutally honest, I am feeling trapped. I do not know you at all well enough to accept your proposal. To quote my uncle, I am well on the shelf and have grown comfortable with the freedom such a position provides.”
“You stupid, stupid child. You have no freedoms!” Uncle Sires shouted. Perhaps he had a few drops of hot gypsy blood pumping in his own veins. “You have no money, no prospects, no choices. What do you plan to do, beggar yourself to your relatives?”
“I would never dream of it, my lord.” May dearly wished Iona could witness her grand performance. Such theatrics were wasted on so small an audience. “I plan to seek employment and pay my own way in this world.”
“Winnie—” Sires whirled around, the floorboards creaking. “—you schooled her to stage this rebellion?”
Winnie glared at him over her steepled fingers. “I support her decision.”
“And what of your health? Will you continue to refuse my offer to let me care for you?” Uncle Sires shouted loudly enough to make the porcelain figurines on the mantel rattle.
“I have no desire to live with an old despot,” Winnie declared. “I will make do on my own.”
The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection Page 10