Candice Hern

by The Regency Rakes Trilogy

  Sedge smiled and continued his meal. Mrs. Lattimer entertained him with local gossip—long, involved tales of people completely unknown to him. But he was thankful for the diversion.

  Just as he bit into the apple tart, Meg swept in the open door with her usual long stride, and Sedge almost lost the ability to swallow. Quickly choking the tart down before he disgraced himself, Sedge stared open-mouthed at the young woman chattering away and bending down to kiss her grandmother's cheek. She wore a pair of tight buckskin breeches and high, black riding boots that displayed the shapeliest hips and longest legs he thought he had ever laid eyes on. She wore a green woolen jacket buttoned tight over a thin lawn shirt. Her hair was pulled back into its usual knot at the back of her neck, but enough unruly locks had come loose so that her face was framed in soft red curls. But his eyes kept returning to those breeches and all the delights they did little to disguise.

  "Really, Meg!" Mrs. Lattimer scolded after accepting her granddaughter's kiss. "What will Lord Sedgewick think of you? Must you come in wearing those horrible breeches?"

  Yes, he thought, she must. She must.

  "I am sorry," Meg said, "but I was too excited to take the time to change." She turned to Sedge with a huge smile. "He did it, Sedge! I took Bristol over the most difficult stretch of the north field, and he did not falter once! Not once! He handled the high ground with ease, took all the hedges and fences. He even jumped a ditch—a ditch with flowing water—without the least skittishness. Oh, I am so proud of him!" She practically bounced with enthusiasm.

  "You should be proud of yourself, Meg," Sedge said. "It is your own good training that has made him so surefooted."

  "And he is so fast," she continued. "I felt as though I were flying. It was so wonderful, I tell you it quite took my breath away."

  Her eyes flashed and her cheeks were still pink from exertion, and excitement. He watched through the tightly stretched jacket as the swell of her bosom rose and fell with her rapid breathing. It was indeed wonderful, and she quite took his breath away.

  She chattered on about the successful ride, oblivious to the fact that Mrs. Lattimer had quietly left the room. Sedge smiled to think that the old woman's tactics were not necessary to help him notice and appreciate her granddaughter. In fact, Meg needed no help from anyone at all in that respect. She did it all by herself.

  Meg took the chair her grandmother had vacated and dragged it close to the bed. She swung it around and straddled it backward, perching her elbows on its top rail. The glorious, long legs wrapped around the chair in a manner that would have given her grandmother forty fits, and almost did the same for Sedge, for very different reasons.

  "I cannot wait to show you Bristol," she said, reaching for his tray and breaking off a piece of apple tart. "I am going to train him to race, you know. And if you are a betting man, my lord, I tell you now that he is going to be a formidable competitor. Goodness, I am starving." She popped the piece of tart in her mouth and then looked up at him sheepishly as she licked the sticky syrup off her fingers. The slow, sensual strokes of her tongue caused Sedge's groin to tighten in a most uncomfortable manner. He was grateful his lap was covered with the tray.

  And suddenly his mind was filled with a vision of Meg's beautiful white body, naked beneath his own. He thought she might be the one woman in the world he could actually look in the eye while he made love to her, instead of having her face buried somewhere in the middle of his chest. Or contorting himself into a knot to reach her face. He was used to women who were some twelve inches or more shorter than his own six feet three inches. But he and Meg could look into each other's eyes. A perfect fit. There were all sorts of advantages to that beautiful, tall, long-legged body. But if he thought of them all just now, he might truly embarrass himself.

  She was a gently bred, innocent young woman, after all. She was not a woman to be casually seduced. He should not even be having such improper thoughts about her. Unless ...

  "Thank you. Sedge, for allowing me to rattle on and on like this," she said, offering a puckish smile. "I know you are a captive audience, so to speak, but you are such a good listener. I have so enjoyed the times we have spent together."

  He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. "It has been my pleasure, ma'am."

  She dropped her eyes, and her long, auburn lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. Cheeks tinted with a faint pink blush. She kept her fingers curved slightly over his for a moment, and then slowly—reluctantly?—pulled them away. When she looked up again, it was to reward him with a smile of such warmth that Sedge was singed all the way to his toes.

  "It is just that..." She paused and flashed a self-conscious grin. "Well, you are so easy to talk to. I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I can, and frequently do, tell you all my thoughts and feelings. And you never dismiss them or belittle them or make me feel silly. You listen. I... I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate that."

  His friends had been right, after all. There were no fireworks. It was indeed a quiet sort of thing.

  Chapter 9

  "So, cuz, tomorrow is the big day?"

  Sedge looked over at his cousin, who stood with an arm propped against the wide window embrasure, looking out at something below. "Yes," he replied to Albert's back, "the doctor wants me to try my hand at crutches tomorrow." And he could not wait to get even as far as that window. He had studied every inch of this room from his position on the bed— every chair, every table, every painting, every cushion. He had memorized the patterns in the curtains, in the rugs, in the bed hangings. He had traced the shapes carved into the paneling, the chair legs, the picture frames, the bedposts. He could describe every detail of the room with his eyes closed.

  If he could only get as far as the window, he could at least expand his world beyond these four walls.

  "At first," he continued, wondering what Albert found so fascinating outside, "I will probably only be allowed to hobble across the room and back. But you can be sure that I will be stumbling all over Thornhill before you know it. I cannot wait!"

  Albert turned and smiled at Sedge's excitement "You must be simply itching to get out of that bed."

  "Indeed, I am ready to climb these walls. I am anxious to be up and about again."

  "And then," Albert said, "you can be on your way. You must be wanting to get back home."

  Sedge shrugged and grinned. "Oh, I don't know," he said enigmatically, eliciting a deep chortle from Albert. "But I tell you, I am more than ready to get out of this bed. You cannot imagine how stiff I am. Not just the leg, but all over. I fear my body may have completely forgotten how to move properly. I am desperate for some exercise."

  "Did you have any particular type of exercise in mind?" Albert asked with a sly grin.

  "Why, Bertie, what can you mean?"

  Albert chuckled and moved to stand next to the bed, his arms folded across his chest. "It has not escaped my notice, Sedge, how taken you are with Miss Ashburton. I thought perhaps you might be considering a bit of diversion while here in the country. She is quite beautiful."

  "So she is," Sedge said.

  "Were you really thinking of a dalliance with our host's sister?" Albert shook his head in disapproval. "Not like you to court danger, Sedge."

  "Breaking my leg is more than enough danger for me, Bertie. Do not worry. I am not planning anything foolish." Wasn't he? He had thought he might actually begin a real courtship of Meg, once he was on his feet again. But perhaps that was indeed a foolish notion. The ultimate goal of a courtship, after all, was marriage. Is that what he really wanted? He had toyed with the idea of marriage to Meg. There were advantages, to be sure. But the very idea of marriage still tended to strike terror in his bachelor's heart. He had not quite settled in his mind if he really wanted to go through with it, if he was ready to go through with it. And he was confused by these new feelings she inspired in him. He still had much to consider.

  "I am glad to hear it," Albert said as he reached for a chai
r and pulled it closer to the bed. He sat down and crossed one leg languidly over the other. "Could have been awkward. Sir Terrence might have insisted on a formal offer." He chuckled softly. "And we both know that you would run screaming from such a situation. If you could run, that is."

  Sedge laughed, but did not respond.

  "You had better be careful, cuz," Albert continued, "since you are in no condition to flee. Don't allow yourself to be lured into any traps."

  "Don't worry, Bertie. I have said I will do nothing foolish."

  "Yes, but I remember a certain conversation we had at Witham Abbey during your mother's Christmas party. Do you recall? You were in your cups and bemoaning the loss of your friends—Bradleigh and Pemerton."

  "I do have a vague recollection of polishing off several bottles of the Abbey's best claret with you one night. Got a bit maudlin, did I?"

  "You could say that," Albert replied, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Mostly, you talked about marriage."

  "I did?"

  Albert laughed. "You did. Talked about how it might be time to settle down and fill up your nursery. The most confirmed old bachelor I know actually speaking of marriage! You had me laughing for hours."

  "I am pleased to have amused you, Bertie, I am sure."

  "Well, you must admit, old man, that it is certainly unlike you even to consider such a subject." Albert slid further down in the chair, leaned his head against the back rail, and laughed at such an absurd notion. "But you will never marry. You know that you will not. You have said so often enough. That sort of settled, routine way of life is not in your nature. Never could be."

  "No doubt you are right, Bertie," Sedge replied as he considered the truth of his cousin's words.

  "You were simply mourning the loss of your close friends to the bonds of matrimony," Albert continued. "Feeling left out, I suppose. And I can understand that, Sedge. I know how close you and Bradleigh and Pemerton had been all those years. But things change, you know. Their lives have taken a different turn from yours, that is all. I should hate to think that you were considering marriage simply as a means to reclaim those old friendships."

  Is that what he was thinking of doing? Using a wife to get back into the circle of friendship he had so missed? To make himself a part of a couple so that he was no longer the odd man out? Was he that desperate to bring things back to the way they had once been?

  "Besides, you cannot turn back the clock, you know," Albert said, as if he had read Sedge's mind. "Things can never be the same again. Life moves on. Didn't Bradleigh's wife have a child recently?"

  "Yes," Sedge replied. "Last fall. A little girl."

  "Ah," Albert said with a lift of his brows, "then you can be sure there will be other children until Bradleigh has a son. No, cuz, once children enter the picture, there is no looking back. The past is in the past."

  "I know that, Bertie. I know that."

  Albert hunched a shoulder and flashed a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Sedge. Didn't mean to lecture. I just wanted to make sure you weren't allowing your confinement to warp your judgment where Miss Ashburton is concerned."

  Sedge heaved a weary sigh and sank back against the pillows. Perhaps he was spinning foolish dreams about Meg. Perhaps when his leg had healed and he had resumed his active life in Town, Meg Ashburton would no longer seem so extraordinary. Perhaps.

  "I appreciate your words of advice, Bertie," he said. "But I promise you, I will not do anything foolish. And, as you say, once I have thrown off this wretched confinement, I shall be moving on. And believe me, I would not for the world do anything to hurt Miss Ashburton. She is much too delightful a young woman to be trifled with."

  "Well, then," Albert said, "we must think about getting you back to Town soon, old chap, where there are plenty of women willing to be trifled with."

  Sedge threw back his head and laughed.

  Albert changed the subject and launched into a ribald tale of one of their mutual friends, whose two mistresses, each unaware of the other, happened to meet and compare notes. The man had been forced to leave Town to escape their dual wrath.

  Sedge listened to Albert with only half an ear. His mind was still full of questions about Meg, his feelings for her, his motivations, his plans for her. This was all so new for him, this swelling of emotion he felt for her. And despite what he had told Albert, he was certain it had nothing to do with his confinement to bed. Had he met her in any other circumstance, he would have felt the same.

  He had come to recognize her step in the hallway as she approached the door to his bedchamber, and his heart quickened at the very sound. Each time she entered his room, with a radiant smile as if nothing pleased her more than just to see him, he was filled with a sudden rush of longing. It was as though there had been an empty place in his heart, and she had somehow slipped in to fill it.

  His friends had told him he would know when the right woman came along. Well, he knew it. At least, he thought he knew it. He was fairly certain that he knew it. In thirty-six years, no other woman had affected him so. She must be the one.

  But he would not rush his fences. He wanted to court her properly, once he was up and about. He wanted to do things right.

  And he would not tell Albert or anyone else. He wanted to be absolutely sure of his own feelings, and he wanted to attempt to determine her feelings as well. He was fairly certain she was attracted to him. She occasionally gave him a look that seared him to the bone, though he suspected she was unaware of the desire written so clearly on her face. She had admitted how much she enjoyed being with him, and talking with him. If nothing else, they had developed a wonderful friendship. But he must be certain that she might be interested in more than friendship before making any decisions.

  After all, Meg was well past the age when most women married. Perhaps she was not interested in marriage. He could not imagine that in all these years no other man had shown an interest in her. In fact, he had more than once caught a certain look in Dr. Garthwaite's eye as he glanced at Meg. His eyes often followed her across the room when he thought she was not looking. Sedge wondered if there were any expectations from that quarter? But he had never seen Meg look at the doctor with anything like desire.

  Perhaps his own vanity clouded his judgment. Most women of his acquaintance were fairly open in their desire for him.

  But Meg Ashburton was not most women.

  He wanted to know how she felt, to know what she wanted. And once he had made his decision, he did not want to make any mistakes. He wanted to do things right.

  He wanted to court Meg properly.

  * * *

  Meg ran the stiff-bristled dandy brush over Bristol Blue's back in long, firm, sweeping strokes. It was an activity she had been doing since she was a child, and she performed the task almost absently as her mind wandered from stable matters, to minor household crises, to Gram's problem in the stillroom, to Sedge. It always came back to Sedge. Her mind was full of him. And so was her heart.

  Brushing backward and downward over the roan's flanks, she wondered how Sedge was progressing with the crutches. She had spoken to Dr. Garthwaite as he left earlier that morning, and he had encouraged Meg to leave the viscount alone with his valet for a few hours so that he could practice in private.

  "Several weeks in bed can make a body stiff and uncooperative," the doctor had said. "His use of the crutches is still somewhat feeble and awkward." He gave her a knowing glance. "I am sure you would not want to embarrass him by being witness to his weakness, Meg. Give him a little time."

  Meg had turned away, conscious of her heightened color. But then the doctor had confirmed that Sedge was impatient to be mobile once again, and knew that with practice he would soon manage the crutches with steadiness and skill.

  "He should not be allowed to hobble beyond the bedchamber for a day or two," the doctor had told Meg. "And when he finally does, he will require assistance on the stairs. But let him wander a bit. He needs the exercise."

  "Is the
re anything further we need to do for him?" Meg had asked.

  "I have adjusted the splint," he replied, "and tied it slightly differently to make it easier to walk. I gave several extra sets of bandages to his valet and showed him how to replace them, how to braid the tails to keep the splint tight. He seems a competent man. Lord Sedgewick is in good hands, Meg. He will be just fine."

  Meg had been anxious to go to him, anxious to see him walking again. But she had taken the doctor's advice and left him alone with Pargeter for the entire morning, while she took Bristol Blue for a long run.

  She flipped Bristol's dark gray mane to the other side of his neck, then began to bring it back again with the brush, one lock at a time. She no longer bothered to deny her feelings for Sedge. They had grown stronger and stronger with each hour she spent by his side. She had never before felt this way about a man, except for the brief infatuation with this same man six years ago. But it was different now. Then, she had been captivated by his smile and a few moments of kindness. Now, she knew him as a person.

  During the hours she had spent with him she had discovered that the charm and affability went beyond the smile. He was a genuinely kind, sweet-natured, generous, compassionate man. She loved talking with him. It was as easy and comfortable as talking to Terrence. But she had discussed subjects with Sedge that she had never broached with Terrence. Or even with Gram. Somehow, he put her so at ease that she shamelessly and effortlessly bared her soul to him.

  He was also incredibly handsome, Meg thought, smiling to herself as she continued to brush Bristol's mane right out from the roots, to make it shine like gun metal. She held the silky mane in her hands and thought of Sedge's hair. She adored his long blond hair, which was mostly the color of honey, but also contained several lighter streaks, especially in the front. She hoped he would keep it rakishly long, as it was now, but suspected he would cut it short when he returned to Town for the Season. And she loved his brilliant blue eyes, even when they almost disappeared from sight as they crinkled into slits as he grinned. Often, they flashed with shared amusement or mischief or enthusiasm. But occasionally she had noticed them darken as they locked with hers, and at such times the air seemed to tremble between them.