by Claudy Conn
He sighed, for before this, Freddy had never been in the petticoat line. In fact, his nephew’s escapades had consisted of pranks and kick-ups. It had only been last Christmas that Freddy had managed to attach himself to the wrong set. They had taken the boy to the worst gaming hells, but that had been easily squashed.
Freddy was not much of a gamester and had very willingly been extricated from this set by his uncle Danny. His lordship smiled to himself. His sister had hailed him a hero, but in truth he had been lucky Freddy had so readily acquiesced and returned to school. He wasn’t so sure he would enjoy the same luck this time around.
He had to hope that Freddy was merely infatuated. His lordship frowned over this concern. He had a bad feeling that Freddy had been struck hard because in the past Cupid had always missed his mark when he aimed for Freddy. Yet here he was writing to his mother that he had met the woman of his dreams and meant to marry her. He was only nineteen, and it would not do!
This Moorely woman must have it in mind to be the next Lady Radburn. Why else would she allow Freddy to continue to dangle after her? Could she have her heart in it? He hoped not, for he did not wish to see any woman hurt because of Freddy’s foolishness.
His nephew was too young to know his own mind and certainly too young for marriage, but if Freddy had engaged the heart of the lady in question, it would be a damnable fix.
* * *
True to his word, Freddy had called on Serena promptly at eight o’clock. “Egad, Serena … you take a man’s breath away,” he exclaimed with a hand to his heart. “That shade of dark green so suits you and your gold hair.”
“Thank you, Freddy,” she said with a light laugh, “but it is just an old riding ensemble.” She pulled at the ivory lace around her neck, adjusted her black top hat firmly on her curls, and pulled on her gloves.
A few moments later saw them heading down the road at an easy pace, both laughing as Freddy told her an anecdote involving a performing bear, his friends, and himself. He eyed her as she laughed and sighed happily. “A man could want for no more than to be in your company … so beautiful, with your skirts laid out all around your chestnut mare … you make quite a picture.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “I would much rather be in britches and riding astride. A lady’s saddle is so hampering. You should try sitting in one, Freddy, so that you would know what I mean.”
He scoffed, “I think not!” He laughed but then frowned. “You know, I never really thought about it. M’mother is always complaining about the ladies’ saddle and prefers to drive because of it. She says she never feels safe in the saddle. Why don’t ladies just ride astride if so many of you dislike the side saddle?”
“Because men, like yourself, think we present a ‘charming’ picture with our skirts spread out around our horse, sedately walking said horses along …” She laughed. “Also, to be fair, I suppose tradition puts us in sidesaddles, which is fine for riding in a park or some other quiet sort of thing. When I ride to hounds, I don’t bother with a ladies’ saddle, for I ride ‘neck or nothing’, and that requires a firm grip with both legs around one’s horse.”
“I should say so. Well, I would never expect you to use a sidesaddle if you preferred not. I can tell you that,” he said with conviction. “I should always want you to be exactly who you are.”
“Oh, Freddy, you are sweet, but you know … you should be at school.”
“How about a bit of a race to the Old Well?” he said, completely ignoring her remark. “I shall give you a head start since you are hampered by your sidesaddle.”
“I don’t need a head start, young man, no matter what saddle I am sitting!” she countered.
He came up alongside her and said, “Shall we make it interesting then?”
“Ah, a wager?” she answered, giving him an arched look.
“Your dark eyes bewitch me,” he answered.
“The wager, Freddy?” she returned warningly. “Right, what shall it be, my handsome puppy?”
“Yes. I,” he said, sitting tall in his saddle, “am not a puppy, but a man, as you shall soon learn.”
She couldn’t help the hearty laugh that burst out of her. He looked so put out. “Yes, my Lord Radburn. How remiss of me to not take notice. Now, what is the wager?”
“If you lose, you marry me,” he teased.
“No, puppy lord,” she responded, giving him an eye and a tease. “If you lose, you return to school.”
“No and never. That would leave Warren free to bother you, and I don’t mean to do that.”
“Freddy …” Serena sighed. “I am well able to fend off any and all … including your attentions, my dear, dear boy.” She hoped she sounded sisterly.
His color heightened. He reached over and touched her forearm. “I swear … three years between us is nothing. I have all the education I need. I won’t leave you to the wolves, and those are not the words of a puppy, but of a man.”
She couldn’t hurt him outright, but she had to do something. She sighed and said, “Never mind all this now. The well is just ahead, and since we cannot agree on a wager, there shall be no racing, but I daresay we should hurry along as Sir Newton waits for no one when it is time to take the hounds for their run.”
They found this to be quite the case, as they arrived to find Sir Newton already leading his hounds away from the kennel.
They waved and hurried their horses along to join the elderly man. They watched with great interest as he trained his hounds to the sound of his horn.
He called his pack in to him, but one, Warrior, stood at the edge of the woods, quite torn because he had obviously picked up on the scent of a fox. He raised his head and sang out his song, encouraging his master and fellow hounds to follow in his wake as he took off.
Two hounds immediately joined him, making music of their own, and then all havoc broke loose.
This was training only—a time for exercise, not hunting. The hounds had been relaxing all summer, though, and were eager to give chase. The morning was crisp and the hunt something they enjoyed, so when Warrior gave the call, they heard nothing else.
“And he’s supposed to be the lead hound, ha.” Sir Newton muttered. “Warrior! Damn it, you know better.”
Frantically he called to the two gentlemen serving as ‘whips’, and they attempted to recall their hounds with voice commands and the use of their horns.
The hounds, however, were on a hot scent. At that moment it was all they knew, and they were off doing what they had been bred and trained to do—track fresh scent.
Freddy exchanged a look with Serena, and they both burst out laughing. “Well then, ’tis tally ho and we’re off!”
“Dreadful Freddy, no one was prepared for this, and everyone looks quite silly, running about trying to call in the hounds,” she said, shaking her head.
Freddy smiled and said, “Come on, I know you want to follow, so let’s see if you can keep up!” He grinned widely as she followed him into the thick of the woods.
Serena knew it would be slow going, as this particular part of the forest was thick with low branches and undergrowth, but she knew it well. She laughed. “Keep up? Ha, watch me pass you,” she answered. “Keep up indeed! I have been riding to hounds before you could twaddle!”
It was some ten minutes later, after the pack ran full cry and they had spanned field after field, jumped creeks, avoided bogs, and jumped line fences, that Sir Newton and the whips were finally able to bring their hounds in.
Freddy slowed his horse to a trot. He had lost his top hat, and his windswept dark blond waves framed his pleasant face, making him look more youthful than ever, Serena thought. She too had lost her hat and looked about with a grimace. “Oh drat, where can it have gone to?”
Her long blonde hair had been pulled into cascading curls, but it was no longer tied with its ribbon, which with her hat was gone. Her hair hung loosely and was also quite windswept as it fell around her face and shoulders. Freddy looked at her and opened his m
outh to speak.
When nothing came out of his mouth Serena looked at him worriedly. “Freddy … what is it?”
“You are … a … goddess!”
This set her off, and she roared with laughter. “Would that I were! I could flip my finger, and my lost hat would magically appear.”
Sir Newton called to them to tell them a hound was missing. “Spread out … must find the dear fellow.”
Serena moved away from Freddy as they went off calling for the hound. Soon the good boy came panting happily up to her horse, who touched noses with the speckled hound.
A few moments later, Sir Newton invited them to return to the kennels with them. Once there, and after she’d walked her horse, Serena took to fussing over the new puppy. Patting its belly as it rolled over, she giggled and then proceeded to give a great deal of affection to all the hounds.
Sir Newton laughed and said, “Your uncle is a lucky man, Serena. I tell him that all the time. You are a treasure. Come up to the house … and we’ll take tea.”
She, however, declined, exclaiming over her lost hat and chores she still had to attend to. After a few more minutes, she and Freddy were once again riding out.
Serena had fished in her saddle bag for another ribbon and was managing to tie her hair back once more when Freddy said, “Serena, may I escort you to town … if that is where you are going?”
“Freddy, don’t you have anything you would rather do than dance attendance on me?”
“There is nothing ever I would rather do than be with you,” he answered softly.
“Well then, let’s get it over with as I must get home. Hmm … I know a shortcut from here,” she said, thinking perhaps his infatuation would wear off if she allowed him to interact with her while she conducted mundane daily activities.
Surely his ardor would begin to pall after he had had a surfeit of her company, for she was certain his was but a fancy, a passing fancy without substance.
They hadn’t gone far and had nearly reached the main pike when Serena’s horse surprised her by spooking to the left.
She stopped and patted her mare’s lovely neck, saying, “There, there, Brandy, what is it, girl?”
She watched her horse’s ears flick nervously, but she could not see what it was that had disturbed Brandy. She turned to Freddy and put up a finger, for suddenly she felt a shiver of concern.
She could hear nothing untoward and finally shrugged, though she continued to eye the neighboring woods. Her mare paced nervously in place, her ears twitching and her body seriously jittery between Serena’s legs, even after she moved her along. Serena told Freddy, “Odd. Brandy rarely spooks … but she is still quite upset about something.”
“This path takes us near Buckler’s Hard, doesn’t it, Serena?” Freddy asked thoughtfully.
“Indeed. My, but you are getting to know your surroundings very well,” she said with a smile and then again stopped her horse. A sound assailed her ears, and something about it made her uneasy. “What was that? Did you hear it Freddy?”
“Trouble.” Freddy made a face, but his voice was full with excitement. “It sounded as though someone is in trouble.” He glanced at her and added, “Stay here—I’ll go and investigate.”
“Oh no, my friend. I am coming with you,” Serena answered and trotted up alongside him.
They both stopped short and sat very still, before they urged their horses forward. They definitely heard two men, evidently in a heated argument, shouting at one another.
“Look there … in the deep of the woods,” Freddy whispered.
“I see—the smaller man looks like he took a blow. His nose is bleeding,” Serena said.
“Aye, the other looks to be a seaman.”
Serena studied the two. Freddy was right—the large, burly fellow looked like a sailor in his dark woolens. The other was short and stout. His eyes were wide open, in a pale face and he was cowering. It was at that moment that both men turned startled expressions to Freddy and Serena.
The tall, husky seaman gave the other man a push. Then without doing anything further he mounted his horse and rode away. The smaller man had a bit of trouble mounting, as he couldn’t quite reach his stirrup, but finally managed. With a harried expression he glanced once more in their direction before he too weaved through the woods and away.
Freddy and Serena eyed one another, and Freddy grinned. “Odd that.”
“Yes, indeed it was, and I didn’t like the looks of that big bully of a sailor. I wonder what they were doing out here.” Serena went quiet for a moment and then said thoughtfully, “You know, Freddy, that seaman … I do believe I have seen him now and then at Buckler’s Hard.”
“Have you? They both looked like shady characters to me,” Freddy remarked.
“Yes, indeed they did,” Serena agreed. “Well, ’tis none of our affair, at any rate.”
“Lord, no, but what a strange picture they presented out here in the woods,” Freddy said and then chuckled. “The sailor so tall, the other so short and round, all bug-eyed and harried. Whatever is towards? Something havey-cavey, I’d wager.”
As they made their way to the pike, they threw different suppositions at one another as to what these two strangers might have been up to, all alone in the woods.
Freddy gave his final opinion on the matter, “Whatever you may say, whatever they were up to, I am certain that the sailor was nearly seven feet in height.”
“Freddy!” Serena exclaimed on a giggle. “Unusually tall, yes … but seven feet?”
“Well, as to that, I am six foot two, and my uncle is taller than I … and that brute was taller even than my uncle,” Freddy returned.
It was at this point that Freddy’s horse took a misstep. Serena exclaimed, “Oh no, Freddy, have you lost a shoe?”
Freddy jumped down to investigate. When he picked up his horse’s leg and bent it at the knee, even from her vantage Serena could see the hoof was loaded with mud and debris but had no shoe.
“Aye,” he said. “We’ll stop at the blacksmith’s when we get to town.” He moved to her and touched her booted leg as he looked up at her. Worship absolute and complete was in his eyes, and Serena frowned.
She saw he was going to say something romantic and immediately stuck in, “We must hope he will not put a crack in it over the rough stones in town—”
“Serena, my dear sweet …” Freddy said, obviously trying to bring matters back to what he had in mind.
* * *
A light-stepping flash prime-blood horse trotted around the bend in the road, ears flickering. The dark horse was alert to something ahead. His rider, Daniel Pendleton, soothed him with quiet authority but looked ahead as he slowed him to a walk.
What the blazes? His nephew Freddy was on foot with his hand on a lady’s boot, and that said lady was frowning down at him.
What, just what, do we have here?
He had been seriously concerned about extricating his nephew from his involvement with the Moorely chit. He knew, after making inquiries, that she was the niece of Squire Moorely and that while the estate was modest when compared to Freddy’s, it was a respectable estate. It was obvious she must have a dowry and could make a very good match if she wanted. The question remained, had she set her sights on his nephew?
Looking at the ravishing creature before him made him blink. He would, he realized at once, have his hands full.
The two were in deep conversation, and he wondered what they could be talking about as the lady in question appeared harried and concerned. His nephew, on the other hand, looked like a puppy protecting its dinner.
His lordship adjusted the beaver top hat on his head so that it sat both jauntily and just a bit angled over his eyes. He sat a bit straighter in his saddle as he continued to approach. The closer he got, the wider his eyes opened.
She was completely ravishing though, he could see, a bit disheveled. Whatever had the two been doing?
His imagination took flight, and he cursed softly under
his breath. He had a tough road ahead, but, damn, he was up for the challenge.
* * *
Neither Serena nor Freddy heard the approach of horse and rider, although both their horses told them with body language that someone approached.
Serena was so involved with keeping young Freddy at a distance, and he with making headway, that they missed the signs.
Serena bent to put a hand on his shoulder and told him as sweetly as she could, “Freddy, I fear our friendship is perhaps—”
“In the way, at the moment. Our friendship is in the way of what I really want from you, Serena …” came his strangled reply.
She straightened and sighed. “Freddy … dear, dear friend … you know that …” The sound, an all too familiar sound of horses’ shoes scraping against stone, brought her head up, and with some surprise her eyes widened.
The big roan, she thought, must stand at seventeen hands, but its rider? She was for a moment struck dumb by the vision of the rider. He sat tall and broad in the saddle. His black locks sparkled in the sunlight. His clothes hugged a massive, beautifully proportioned and masculine body, and his eyes … his blue eyes, had they not looked as though he wanted to give her a thrashing, would have been absolutely captivating. Something happened to her, and she wasn’t sure what. It was as though her brain stopped functioning and her heart began to pound for release from her chest. Its beat was so loud she nearly put her hands to her ears. She had never seen a man more captivating!
Seeing her expression, Freddy looked around and cursed right out loud, “Fire and brimstone!” He then folded his arms across his chest and stared accusingly at the well-dressed, high-styled Corinthian bearing down upon them. “My uncle …” he said out loud to Serena.
“Ah,” Serena remarked.
“No doubt sent down by m’mother to haul me off and make certain I return to school,” he added, obviously attempting to show her the full horror of the situation he now faced. “Does no one understand I am a man and can make up my mind just what I want to do? The title is mine, the estate of Radburn is mine, and my decisions are mine to make.”