“Lord Granger will be coming for them? He has been more than anxious.”
“Yes. And I believe he intends to bring his third cousin. I have not met him, but the man is interested in several of our studs. He wants to assess them, so it will be good for you to meet him as well.”
“I warn you, it will not be the usual peace at Notlund.” The duke’s forefinger swept around the room. “This madness is to follow us, on a smaller scale, of course—or so I have been promised. Wynne and the Silverton sisters have concocted a full summer of visitors—all of the top suitors from the season will be clunking through the estate.”
Sebastian sighed, shaking his head with a feigned frown. “That is unfortunate.” He sipped his claret as his attention went back to the crush. “But Notlund is large, so I am sure I can stay out of the fray.”
Sebastian’s eyes landed on Miss Silverton once more, now chatting with the duchess. She looked parched, as she always did at this point in the night. Miss Silverton did not drink spirits of any kind, no matter how many bubbling glasses were set into her hands.
He smiled. Once at Notlund, he would have to explore that fact more deeply.
Only a week away. One week, and he could set his plan in motion.
He had hidden his prior knowledge from Rowen, but Sebastian already knew about the many suitors to visit Notlund—who was coming and when—as he had sunken to spying on his own best friend, rather than being upfront about his plan.
But he couldn’t let Rowen be privy to his scheme just yet.
Not if his plan was to work.
~~~
Leaning back on the dark blue squabs of the open-air carriage, Brianna Silverton looked down at her younger sister. They had just escaped the final strained chords of the string quartet at the ball, and Brianna sighed in relief. She was almost—mercifully—done with the debacle that had become her life.
No longer filtered through the glow of candles in the ballroom, the bright morning sun burned through the London haze, showing just how foxed her sister truly was. Bleary blue eyes closing, Lily sank awkwardly into the corner of the carriage, dead to the world.
At least she wasn’t throwing up this time.
Brianna reached over and shifted her sister’s arm from the awkward angle it had landed, setting it gently across her sister’s stomach.
She had been beyond mortified the first time Lily had thrown up in the Duke of Letson’s carriage. The coachman had politely cleaned up after them and had continued to do so the three subsequent times it had happened.
After the fifth time, though, the duke had requested that Brianna take her sister to and from the soirées in the open-air carriage, as long as weather permitted. As polite as the duke had been in asking, it was in that moment that Brianna realized what true mortification really was.
Since then, Brianna had gotten adept at recognizing the moment before Lily upheaved. And she had also figured out how to drape her sister outside a moving carriage—safely—so Lily could retch in the cleanest manner possible.
The horses jerked forth, and Brianna removed her gloves, staring at her sister’s mouth, waiting for the twisting lips and quickened breath—the surest sign the ride home would not be pleasant.
A few minutes passed, and Lily remained asleep, heart-shaped lips still. A small grace.
Brianna allowed herself to relax slightly, letting the muscles in her neck stretch back and forth as she let down her tight shoulders. Standing all night, vigilant over her sister, did nothing but put aches into her back and throbs down her left leg.
It had been a particularly trying night, this last ball of the season. The desperate had become exceptionally daring, fraying the edges of politeness. Brianna was a spinster—a companion—and it annoyed her to no end how often men thought they could still ask for an introduction—still talk to her.
She had enough running madcap through her mind to stop and converse with them.
But it was almost over—she just had to last another three months through the summer. Three more months of politeness, of watching her sister’s every move.
Three months to determine which one of the final three suitors would be the appropriate one for her sister.
They hid it well, these men, but Brianna knew all of them drooled over Lily’s dowry. She had thought to give her sister the best chance of finding a worthwhile husband when she had declared herself a spinster and combined her dowry with Lily’s.
It had taken some machinations with the solicitor, but since she was in control of the Silverton estate, the man had done as Brianna had asked. It had effectively doubled Lily’s dowry, but now Brianna was second-guessing the wisdom of that decision.
Thank goodness the duke had convinced her not to add more into it, as she had planned.
The coachman turned left onto the block of the duke’s townhouse.
Brianna poked her sister. A grumble, but no open eyes.
She poked her again. Nothing.
With a sigh, Brianna slid her arm behind Lily’s back, the blue silk of her sister’s gown soft on her forearm. She set her other arm in front of Lily, pulling her upright.
At least the next three months at Notlund, the Duke of Letson’s estate in Yorkshire, would give her a slight reprieve from the constant hovering over Lily. Give her a chance to breathe.
In the two months they had spent at Notlund before the season began, Brianna had grown to love several of the young mares in the duke’s expansive stables. Grown to love the far-reaching estate and the wide-open stretches where she could set her mounts to flying fast.
She had come to depend on those rides to keep her sane and had missed them bitterly in London.
Hopefully, the rides would allow her some precious quiet away from Lily to focus—focus on determining the right husband for her sister.
There wasn’t anything more important.
For she wasn’t about to ruin her sister’s life. Not as she had done to her own.
{ Chapter 2 • Earl of Destiny }
If Sebastian had any lingering doubts about his plan, they dissipated into the summer morning breeze the second he saw the vision in front of him.
He pulled up on the reins of his horse, leaving several rows of trees between him and the bank of the stream. He was well hidden, even if at that moment he wished he wasn’t.
Caution held him back. Caution would be crucial to his success.
Hell-bent, her white horse thundering along an open field, Miss Silverton flew, half of her hair spilling from her bun and trailing her like a flag.
Skillfully guiding the horse, she slowed, the pair turning at the opposite bank of the stream, and the horse eased them down to the water.
At the stream’s edge, Miss Silverton jumped from the sidesaddle, a laughing smile beaming across her face as she patted the horse’s creamy neck. Miss Silverton’s face was flush, and Sebastian could see she was panting through her smile, out of breath.
It was the first time Sebastian had seen a true smile grace her face, and it was a sight he was not likely to forget soon—or ever.
Sebastian could not make out the words, but he could hear her voice floating in the air above the running water as she rubbed the horse’s nose. The horse whinnied, and Miss Silverton chuckled, stepping aside as the horse went to lap up water from the stream.
Stripping off the violet jacket of her riding habit, she tossed it back to the edge of the grasses further up the bank. She turned, walking to the edge of the stream as she pushed up the loose sleeves of her white shirt and then pulled several pins from her hair, fluffing her hair as she let all of her loose curls fall down her back.
Still in animated one-way discussion with the horse, she bent, balancing on her heels. Her skirts dipped into the stream, but she seemed to take no note as she scooped water into her cupped hands, first dousing her face, and then pulling her hair aside to splash water onto the back of her neck. She fished into a pocket in her skirts, producing a handkerchief and sinking it into the str
eam.
Everything about her was at ease. Completely relaxed. Her shoulders weren’t high and tight. Her mouth wasn’t set in its constant slight frown. Her brow wasn’t furrowed in concentration. Her ice-blue eyes were aglow. She wasn’t jabbing her own fingernails into the pads of her thumbs as she constantly did at parties.
Free. She was completely free, and Sebastian recognized it instantly.
Face upward to the sky, her words stopped as she closed her eyes. Holding the cloth to her neck, the water dripped, trailing onto the front of her chest as she stretched her neck, rubbing her own shoulder.
The dripping water soon began to take over her white linen shirt, her shift, and the top of her stays, and the darkness of a nipple started to show through the fabric.
Damn. She was beautiful. More beautiful than he had thought.
For all that he had planned, this—her true beauty—he had not expected. Sebastian could feel himself starting to harden.
He shifted in his saddle, frown setting on his mouth. He was going to have to go about his plan more delicately than he had thought. He had known she was beautiful, but he hadn’t expected to physically react so instantaneously to her. The slightest show of a nipple, and he was gawking like a besotted whipper of eighteen.
He shook his head, irate at his own lack of restraint.
The white horse nudged Miss Silverton’s shoulder, and Sebastian could hear a distinct groan come from her.
Hands on her knees, she rose, quickly yanking her hair backward and twisting it into a tight bun. Pins pushed in to hold the bun in place, she fetched her jacket from the bankside, quickly buttoning the front.
Sebastian’s eyes stayed stubbornly trained on her ample chest until the violet cloth swallowed the view.
She sidled the horse, stretching her foot up into the stirrup and gripping the top pommel. A few hops, and she heaved herself upward into the sidesaddle. Awkward without a stump or a platform to step up upon, she managed the motion somewhat gracefully.
Settled on the white mare, her eyes went to the stream. She watched the rolling water for a few long moments, and Sebastian could see she was hesitant to leave the tranquility of the spot.
But then the set of her shoulders tightened and the smile slipped from her face. A few more moments, and her back straightened, somberness setting into her eyes.
The change was fascinating.
Fascinating. And unsettling.
Sebastian’s head tilted, and he watched as she pushed the horse up the bank and disappeared from view.
He smiled to himself, clicking his horse into motion.
Maybe it was time Miss Silverton knew of his existence.
~~~
Brianna’s eyes went to the sky, trying to make out the sun through the thick cover of the summer haze. Without the sun to guide her, she had ridden longer than she had intended, but it had felt so good to escape she couldn’t quite bring herself to turn Moonlight back to the stables.
She set Moonlight to an easy walk. The way the horse had taken to the fields earlier, Brianna guessed that Moonlight had missed her just as much as she had missed the mare.
Grabbing the front of her form-fitting jacket, Brianna tried to fan a waft of air onto her chest. In only a few minutes, her wet shirt had matted to her skin, hot in the warm weather. It had been worth it, though, cooling off by the stream.
Her eyes flickered to the sky. Hopefully, she still had a few hours before Lily would be awake and moving about, and she could change and be ready before she needed to start trailing her sister.
The flurry of traveling here to Notlund and of their first guests arriving had consumed too much of the last week, and Brianna had far too much to do.
Of all of her sister’s suitors, Lord Newdale was still the biggest mystery to her. She wished she had directed the bow street runner she had hired to investigate her sister’s final three suitors to gather information on Newdale first, as society was very tight-lipped about him.
So far, Newdale was the biggest risk as a husband for her sister. And Brianna was not about to allow her sister a risky marriage.
Nonetheless, Newdale was now here at Notlund, arriving with his mother and two sisters the day before. Brianna would just have to be extra vigilant when Newdale was near Lily.
The sound of horse hooves broke through her thoughts, and Brianna turned just in time to see a man on a tall black horse slow and fall in line with Moonlight’s gait.
Her spine instantly straightened.
No. This would not do.
“Hello. I do apologize for interrupting your thoughts, miss, but are you on your way to the Notlund stables?”
Brianna tried to ignore him, her eyes straight ahead while keeping Moonlight at a steady pace.
What was a strange man doing in this area of the Notlund estate? She had never encountered anyone on these grounds, save for the gamekeeper that once.
“Again, miss, I do apologize. Approaching a lady such as yourself is not done, but you are riding without a groom, and I warred between slowing to chat with you, or rudely moving past you without acknowledging your presence.”
“You may still choose to move rudely past me, sir. That would do us both well.” Brianna did not let her eyes even flicker in his general direction. The duke had always said the grounds were quite safe, and she had believed him until this man just appeared out of nowhere.
The man chuckled. “I am afraid it is too late for that, Miss Silverton.”
Her face snapped to him. “You know who I am?”
The man smiled at her. Handsome. Dark brown hair. Warm chocolate eyes. A devil grin.
He nodded.
Brianna swallowed a groan, giving him her coldest eyes. “Then I am at a distinct disadvantage, sir, as I do not think I know you. And I am finding this conversation vastly ruder than it would have been to taste your horse’s dust.”
“Forgive me.” His head bowed to her. “Since there is no one present to introduce us, I will have to do the honors. I am Sebastian Rallager, Earl of Luhaunt. I am a good friend of the duke’s.”
“Lord Luhaunt?” Brianna’s panic at a rogue man appearing beside her subsided. She had been preparing to bolt, as she knew she could outride just about anyone on Moonlight if she needed to. So while she wasn’t particularly worried about bodily harm from the man, she was unnerved—but then she recognized the name Luhaunt. At least this man was a known rogue, even if she had never met him.
She glanced at Lord Luhaunt again. He had settled his horse into Moonlight’s easy pace quite comfortably. Too comfortably.
She gave him quick, flat smile. “I have heard your name, I believe. You are the one that produces the many fine horses for the stables?”
“Yes. Such as the very one you ride.”
“Moonlight? You brought her here?”
“Yes.” He shrugged. “Though the name is new to me.”
“The duke asked me to name her since we have gotten on so well.” Brianna glanced down at Moonlight’s twitching ears then back to Luhaunt. “She is fine. And fast. Very fast. Where did she come from?”
“Hungary. The man who had her said she was displaced by the wars, but his character was suspect. I imagine she came to him through nefarious means.”
“Did you question him?”
“No. I thought it most important to remove her from an owner that was ill-equipped to care for her. Questioning him would not have helped to that end.”
Brianna offered the smallest nod. “The duke has said you have uncanny instincts when it comes to horses.”
“I do not know about ‘uncanny.’ But when I do trust my instincts, there is more often than not, great reward.”
His eyes did not leave her.
Brianna looked away, searching the trail along the stream for familiar foliage. Buggers. Still minutes away from the stables.
“Do you always ride without a groom, Miss Silverton? An unmarried lady such as yourself?”
“I am a spinster, Lord Luhaunt,
and not in need of a companion.” She didn’t bother to hide the sharpness in her voice. “There is no danger here, and once the duke was convinced I knew the trails well enough, I have had his blessing to freely go about. I do prefer to ride alone.”
She emphasized the word “alone” a little too harshly, and Moonlight reacted from her tone, springing an excited sidestep.
Brianna contemplated giving the horse rein to run again—it would remove her from this man’s presence—but unfortunately, also be entirely rude. And she wasn’t about to be rude to a good friend of the duke and duchess. Dismissive, yes, but not outright rude.
Luhaunt’s eyes finally left her, and he looked ahead, his head bobbing in unison with his horse’s steps. “Ahh, I had forgotten you had labeled yourself a spinster. I did hear mention of that in London. That has been vital to your sister’s successful season, has it not?”
“You know of my sister?”
“I know of both you and your sister.”
Of course. Of course he was here at Notlund for Lily. It made sense. But her sister had never mentioned this man. And Brianna truly did not want to deal with another admirer to investigate.
Her eyes narrowed on Luhaunt’s profile. “I do not recall you meeting my sister. And I have kept a very watchful eye over her. Why are you truly here at Notlund, Lord Luhaunt?”
His gaze remained forward. “I will not lie to you, Miss Silverton. I am here for a wife.”
Blast it. Her sister would look the fool if Luhaunt showed up, vying for Lily’s attention in front of Lord Newdale. “Truly, Lord Luhaunt, you should have inquired about proper introductions to my sister in London. The season is over and she now has a very short list of men she will be considering.”
“I was in London, but I thought Notlund would be a much better place for my strategy.”
“Strategy? You have a strategy where my sister is concerned?” Brianna shook her head. “Lord Luhaunt, you will be disappointed if you think to get to my sister through me. I do not intend to let Lily anywhere near the likes of you—friend of the duke’s or not.”
Lord of Fates: A Complete Historical Regency Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 30