A Very Merry Viscount

by Jane Charles

  Andrew reached out and patted the sleek chestnut neck but the horse stepped closer to Lady Tabitha.

  “Ah, ye prefer Lady Tabitha ta me?”

  The horse lifted his head and whinnied again.

  Andrew glanced back to the plaque on the back of the wall. “Solomon.”

  “I cannot blame ye. She is bonny,” Andrew spoke to the horse then glanced over at Lady Tabitha whose face was quite pink. “He likes ye,” Andrew said. “Ye should pet him.”

  Lady Tabitha met Andrew’s eyes and took a tentative step forward and slowly lifted her hand.

  Solomon nuzzled her palm and Andrew was rewarded when Lady Tabitha began to smile though her green eyes remained wary.

  “He’ll like ye better if ye give him an apple or carrot.”

  At that, Lady Tabitha reached into the bag and lifted a carrot up to the horse. Solomon sniffed and then ate directly from the lady’s palm in the most delicate manner. “He does seem gentle.”

  That’s because he’s gelded, but Andrew didn’t advise her of that fact because he didn’t want to have to explain if she didn’t understand the meaning. Instead, he moved further into the stall and ran his hand along the horse’s back. “Give me your hand?” he asked gently.

  Lady Tabitha bit her lip and then held it out to him. Andrew gently pulled at the tip of each finger, slow and deliberate until they loosened, then he drew the glove slowly off her hand, revealing a bit more skin with each tug. Her breath hitched.

  It may only be her hand, but Andrew’s mind went to removing each and every layer of clothing in the same deliberate manner until she was unveiled before him.

  He blinked and attempted to erase the thoughts from his mind. This was not the time to be lusting after Lady Tabitha, not in the stables and certainly not at Danby Castle where His Grace might read his mind.

  If anything, Danby was far too perceptive, and Andrew needed to guard his thoughts while in Yorkshire.

  Once he pocketed her glove, Andrew placed Lady Tabitha’s hand against Solomon’s neck. The horse whinnied again and moved his head closer to Lady Tabitha.

  “I do believe Solomon is smitten,” Andrew chuckled.

  Lady Tabitha’s face brightened.

  “Move closer to me,” Andrew coaxed.

  She hesitated a moment and glanced toward the entrance, as if gauging how quickly and easily she could escape.

  “He would never hurt ye, lass,” Andrew drew her to his side and her scent of roses wafted up to his nostrils, blocking even the most pungent odors from the stalls. Ah, Solomon wasn’t the only one susceptible to Lady Tabitha’s charms.

  Chapter 8

  A most pleasant shiver shot up Tabitha’s spine when Straffan’s hand touched hers and his breath caressed her cheek. When he’d removed her glove, it was almost as if more of her person was exposed than just her hand, and Tabitha’s body grew warm in the most delightful manner as a mixture of emotions from anticipation to comfort swirled within her. She’d never experienced the like and it was all she could do not to lean into Straffan and absorb the protection he offered.

  Even Straffan’s soothing tone eased her apprehension. Tabitha had been well aware that he was Irish, but until today she’d not noted the lilt in his voice, nor had he slipped into the comfortable dialect of his heritage. At all other times that she’d heard him speak, it had been in the proper, cool tones of an English gentleman. Oh, she much preferred his Irish inflection over anything else.

  The horse’s soft coat beneath her palm and the gentle touch of Straffan against the back of her hand, brought on waves of longing and remembrance. She longed for security, warmth and things she could not identify and it created an ache deep within her soul. Memories of an earlier time flashed in her mind. She’d once spent many hours in her family’s stables, brushing the horses and riding as often as possible, even cleaning the stalls to delay going inside, hoping that one day she’d own her very own horse. Tabitha had never been afraid until that one horrible afternoon when all security was taken away and she realized just how dangerous and strong, a magnificent horse could be. She longed to return to the time before fear had taken her.

  “Shall we take him out?”

  Tabitha glanced back and found herself practically nose to nose with Straffan. “Out?” she repeated, nearly robbed of breath as she looked into the deep blue of his eyes.

  He didn’t answer at first, but stared at her, his eyes growing darker, as if he was as mesmerized by her as she was him.

  Slowly, he inched closer and in the next instant, Straffan pulled back and cleared his throat. “Yes…um…out of his stall.”

  Tabitha blinked. Had Straffan been about to kiss her?

  Then his words registered in her brain. “I’m not ready.”

  “Not to ride,” he assured her as he took her hand in his. “Only out to the stable yard and perhaps we can walk him around.”

  She bit her lip as she considered the option. As long as the horse was in the stall, Tabitha knew that she could get away if he became aggressive. Out in the open, she’d be left vulnerable.

  “I promise ta protect ye.” Straffan’s soothing voice calmed her nerves.

  Though she still wasn’t certain if this was wise, Tabitha gave a quick nod, and he slowly moved away to lift the bit and bridle off the wall at the side of the stall and settled them around Solomon. Tabitha slipped out into the stable yard in case Solomon did not turn out to be as calm as she and Straffan believed.

  As Straffan exited, Solomon clomped behind him and Tabitha held her breath as they came directly toward her. Then Straffan held out the reins.

  All she could do was stare at them.

  “I’ll be right with ye, ready to intervene if I must.”

  Tabitha took a deep breath then blew it out, casting a cloud of white into the afternoon air. Then she reached for the reins. Her pulse pounded and her heartbeat increased, but she was determined to take these next steps, and that was exactly what she did as soon as she began to lead Solomon around the yard, Straffan walking beside her.

  Lady Tabitha was as skittish as any mare he’d attempted to break in the past. Except, she wasn’t a horse, but a beautiful young woman. Andrew hated that Lady Tabitha had suffered such a trauma, but someone in her family should have forced the issue before now.

  Though he walked by her side, Andrew remained quiet, and began to note when her shoulders dropped with relaxation and she no longer had a white-knuckled grip on the reins.

  Blast, it was freezing out here and he’d removed her glove.

  “A moment.”

  She stopped and turned to him.

  “Your hand.” She lifted her gloved one. Andrew took it, then shifted it to the reins so that her ungloved hand was free then fitted the material over her fingers before squeezing them gently. “I wouldn’t want you to become chilled.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured and glanced away as if suddenly shy.

  Andrew had enjoyed his share of lovers over the years, though he’d never been drawn to any woman as he was Lady Tabitha. Was it because she appeared so delicate and in need of protection? Or was it her silent determination to overcome an obstacle. Or was it simply that she was beautiful, sensitive and kind? Few would cry over a horse years after it had been put down, regardless of the circumstances. Yet, she carried the guilt to this day when none of it was her fault. She was a victim of those circumstances as much as her beloved horse. Regardless of the reasons, Andrew was drawn to Lady Tabitha stronger than any other woman of his acquaintance, and he’d only known her a day.

  Quickly, he amended his thought. He might have finally learned her name, but his attraction had begun last spring when he’d seen her walk in Hyde Park. Would he court her yet?

  Immediately, he shut down the option. He would not be courting Lady Tabitha, now or in the future. She was of Danby’s line and not for the likes of him.

  Shaken by the contemplations, Andrew stepped away to put distance between himself and Lady Tabitha. It w
as as much for him as it was for her. Lady Tabitha needed to become comfortable being alone with a horse, and Andrew needed to quit thinking about courtship or worse—he’d nearly kissed her in the stables. She was right there, their noses nearly touching and nobody was about. It would have been so easy to press his lips against hers. Thank God he recovered when he did or who knows what might have occurred.

  “Where are you going?” she asked with alarm.

  “Not far. This is for ye and Solomon.”

  The horse neighed as if he approved of Andrew leaving the two of them alone.

  Andrew simply observed as lady and horse walked, and the distance between the two lessened until Lady Tabitha turned to Solomon and petted his mane.

  Time. That was all she needed. Andrew smiled at their affection just as the snow began to fall.

  A moment later, Peter Storm rode into the stable yard and the magic was broken. Lady Tabitha distanced herself from Solomon as if she feared him rearing or bolting at the sudden appearance of another horse.

  Storm dismounted and then turned to his sister, hands fisted on his hips as a stable boy ran out to retrieve the horse.

  “How was your ride?” Lady Tabitha asked her brother.

  “Not as eventful as what is happening here.”

  Then he turned and gave Andrew a pointed look.

  “Solomon should be returned to his stall since the snow is growing heavier,” Andrew said instead of answering the unvoiced question in Storm’s eyes.

  The stable boy who was leading Storm’s horse away paused and took the reins from Lady Tabitha as well. “I’ll see that he’s settled in.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Shall we return inside before Mother begins to worry?” Storm offered his sister his arm.

  “Yes.” Lady Tabitha accepted her brother’s arm, though her gaze never wavered from Andrew. “Thank you.”

  He wasn’t certain what she was thanking him for, but Andrew was glad to have helped vanquish a few of her demons.

  Chapter 9

  Goodness! Tabitha never thought she’d ever be so close to a horse again. Solomon had been as docile as a newborn mare. Docile as Guinevere had been at one time.

  The memories flooded back, but she shook them away. Though she’d always mourn the mare, Tabitha refused to let incidents of the past control her future. With those thoughts she glanced out of the drawing room window. A gentle snow continued to fall, unaccompanied by wind. Simply watching the little white puffs fall from the sky and blanket the ground brought an unexpected peace.

  “Goodness, I’d not been aware that Danby had invited Mr. Lymington,” her mother exclaimed with delight. Tabitha turned to note the pale, gaunt gentleman entering just as her sisters groaned.

  Lymington was a gentleman farmer who owned land not more than an hour from their family estate. Mother would give nearly anything for one of her daughters to marry him. However, none of her daughters wished to be married to Mr. Lymington, Tabitha included.

  “Come along.” Mother latched onto Tabitha’s wrist. “We must greet him.”

  “I have no wish to do so,” Tabitha hissed under her breath, irritated that her serenity brought by the snow had been shattered.

  “You’ve barely given yourself the opportunity to know him, Tabitha.”

  “I’ve known him since you began inviting him to dinner on a regular basis.”

  “Mr. Lymington would make an excellent husband,” her mother said, ignoring Tabitha’s objections. “He’s landed and wealthy. What more could you want?” her mother whispered as she practically dragged Tabitha across the drawing room.

  “I’d want a husband who is pleasant and kind. Someone I could love, and love me in return,” she argued. And one whose breath didn’t make her nearly gag, and whose high opinion of himself didn’t make others wonder if they’d ever measure up. The last person Tabitha wished to wed was someone who believed she should be honored to have been chosen.

  “Love,” her mother scoffed. “That grows in a marriage, not before. Now behave,” she hissed right before they came to a stop before the abhorrent gentleman.

  “Mr. Lymington, how pleasant of you to have joined the family for Christmas,” her mother gushed.

  “Yes, well, it was kind of His Grace to include me.” He then turned to Tabitha and stared down his long beak of a nose at her. “Lady Tabitha, you look well.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured and held her breath as he leaned closer.

  “Would you care to take a turn about the room?”

  “I believe they will be calling us into dinner shortly,” Tabitha offered as an excuse.

  “Do go on,” her mother gave Tabitha a slight shove in the middle of her back, pushing her closer to the offensive gentleman.

  “Yes, of course.” Tabitha turned her face away from his.

  “I’m very pleased to find you here,” Lymington began. “I’d hoped to call on you following Christmas.”

  “You did?” she asked cautiously, dreading to know the reason why.

  “As Lady Hannah is away visiting her brother, I thought to call on you instead.”

  Did that mean if Tabitha wasn’t here, he’d turn his sights on Deborah as if any Storm would do?

  “I am certain that my sister will return by March at the latest, so you might wish to call then.” Hannah would be quite irritated at Tabitha for encouraging the man.

  “I cannot wait so long.” Lymington stopped and turned to Tabitha. “I hope to marry before the spring as I’ll have little time for courtship once the planting season begins. In fact, I’ll have very little time for my bride quest until the final harvest, so you see, it is imperative that I not waste valuable time in finding my wife.”

  All Tabitha could do was blink at him.

  “I know that your mother would have no objection to my suit.”

  True, however…“It is my brother, the Earl of Kinley you must speak with if you wish to court one of my sisters.”

  “Though I would have preferred Lady Hannah, I would be quite happy marrying you instead.”

  Her mouth popped open. She couldn’t even utter the words of being flattered since she was clearly his second choice. “You must speak with my brother,” she insisted again, though Tabitha had every intention of writing Benjamin to warn him and threaten never to forgive him if he even gave a moment of consideration to Lymington’s suit.

  Lymington smiled at her. “I have your mother’s permission and she is the one who suggested that I speak with the Duke of Danby, as he has the final say in these matters. At her suggestion, I did write to His Grace and received an invitation to join the family for the holiday.”

  Tabitha’s heart began to pound, a panic much stronger than the one she’d ever suffered when near any horse. She’d run away and become a spinster before she married Lymington. She’d run all the way to Barbados and insist her brother, Samuel provide refuge until the man married someone else.

  At that moment, supper was announced and Lymington offered his arm. Tabitha frantically glanced around for rescue but everyone already had a partner for dinner. Then she saw Straffan lead her distant cousin, Lily, into the dining room. The two had sat beside each other the evening before as well. Was that who Danby decided to match Lily with? As much as she adored her cousin, and Tabitha would happily give her nearly anything, she was not about to relinquish Viscount Straffan.

  Tabitha paused at her chair once they reached the dining room, irritated that they were too far away to overhear any conversation Lily and Straffan might enjoy. Worse, once she was settled, Lymington turned and leaned in close. “I’m happy we will have these days to come to know each other.”

  As his breath hit her face, any appetite Tabitha may have had earlier quickly disappeared, and she sought the location of her great-uncle. On any given day and at any given time, Tabitha would do just about anything to avoid the Duke of Danby, but at this very moment, he might be her only savior.

  Though Andrew tried to b
e attentive to Lady Lily, he often looked the length of the table to Lady Tabitha and Mr. Albion Lymington, who was quite focused on his dinner partner. However, Lady Tabitha appeared to be watching His Grace as if she wished to gain his attention. He’d been under the impression that Danby’s relatives would do just about anything to hide from His Grace and not bring attention to themselves. Unless Danby had decided to match Lady Tabitha with Lymington…

  Not possible. Those two would never suit.

  Andrew had met Lymington only a handful of times and tried to avoid him whenever possible. Pompous ass!

  Lady Tabitha couldn’t be interested in the bloke, could she?

  As the ladies departed, Andrew welcomed the port though he declined a cheroot. What he wanted was for this part of the evening to be over so that he might determine if Lady Tabitha would be lost to him to the likes of Lymington.

  Andrew straightened and paused just as the glass reached his lips. Lost to him?

  He really must stop thinking of Lady Tabitha in terms of courtship, kissing and belonging. He barely knew her and further, Danby would never approve. Yet, that didn’t stop the draw deep from within that pulled him in her direction.

  What was it about her, besides her obvious beauty?

  Were the poets correct?

  Andrew had always scoffed at the idea of instant emotions as souls connected, and other nonsense, preferring to believe that it was instant attraction that led to passion and was merely confused as love. Now he wasn’t so certain.

  He mentally shook his thoughts away. It served no purpose to dwell on whatever it was that made him search for Lady Tabitha in whichever room he found himself, as he knew any match was impossible. However, Andrew could barely stomach the idea of Lymington taking his place

  “How did you manage it?” Peter Storm asked as he slid into a chair near Andrew.

  “Manage what?”

  “To get Tabitha to actually walk a horse? We’ve tried for years, but she’d have none of it.”