Page 45 of A Virgin for the Cruel Duke

“Don’t you feel even a little bad for the poor birds?” Diana asked, peeking around Celia towards where there were preparations being made for the beaters and the assistants for the afternoon’s activities.

Selina laughed. “Sweet sister, if we had sympathy for all the living creatures on the earth whatever would we eat? You like roast partridge and grouse fine enough when it’s on your plate!”

“I don’t like to think about how it got there, though,” Diana said with a shiver.

“And so you shouldn’t, Lady Diana,” Mr. Carter said, passing by. His brows were angled solicitously but Elizabeth was sure that no matter what the conversation was about, the topic would swiftly be changed to Mrs. Carter. “Why my own dear wife will simply not allow talk of hunting in the house. It was only because of the deep admiration that we hold for your family and the Duke that she was willing to come to the party, for she will surelybe alarmed with the talk of what we have caught and how we have caught it.”

“I shall stick to her, then,” Diana cried. “We shall avoid the talk together!”

Mr. Carter was so pleased at this that he dropped his hat, then his gloves and then finally his cane and he had to bend three of four times to gather them up again.

Elizabeth moved on from the small group to where the men were discussing stratagems. While the partridge was not a particularly wily opponent, it seemed that the gentlemen were all keen to show their shooting prowess and come back with the best brace for the kitchens, and they were briskly debating the merits of beaters and the foul play that poachers were wont to get up to.

“Before the main event this afternoon and everyone else arrives, let us have a small wager,” Herbert was saying. “Whoever can get the most partridge and pheasants in the woods without any aid shall have the first attempt at the driven game when the rest of the party starts this afternoon.”

“Ah Lord Herbert,” Perceval said, a beaming smile on his face. “That sounds like sport indeed, but let us not wager for so small a trifle. Let us each man put a purse in the pot to be won by the lucky winner.”

The rest agreed heartily to the plan as she approached, and then looked somewhat embarrassed to be caught in the act by a lady,even Stephen taking the air of a man trying to check the time on his watch and the sky for clouds at the same time. Elizabeth had by now spent enough time with Celia to know the Marchioness disliked gambling enormously, which was enough to make those near her nervous of speaking of it where she might find out.

“I shall go with Herbert, we shall keep each other right,” Perceval said briskly, breaking the awkward silence.

The Duke of Seymour looked a little disappointed, Elizabeth thought, and then gamely said that he would pair with Dudley who pretended that he did not notice the hesitation.

“I see that I have been left to my own devices,” Stephen drawled in amusement.

“Not at all,” Elizabeth said. “I shall come with you, Westall.”

He looked up at her, surprised. “Elizabeth?”

“Indeed,” she said, carrying on as quickly as she could so he would not see how nervous she was. “It sounds like an entertaining way to spend the morning and I should not like you to be alone. The honor of the house demands that you win the wager, after all.”

This was at least part true. She did not know if he could see it in her face but the idea of him alone in the woods with his enemy or enemies near him and armed made her stomach turn over in fear.

Perhaps he could see how much it meant to her for he nodded, his face softening a little. “I shall be glad of the company. Come, let us find some horses and be started. You shall be my luck today, wife.”

“Whoa Captain, whoa,” Stephen drew in the rein of his stallion and glanced cautiously at Elizabeth who was sat like a bag of old washing on the back of Cleopatra, one of the gentler horses in the stables.

In truth he should have suggested she ride while he led the horse on a longe line, but she had been so excited at the idea of riding out with him that he hadn’t had the heart.

“Tell me again how it is that you’ve never ridden a horse before,” he called over his shoulder, keeping Captain on a short rein so they would not outstrip Cleopatra who was enjoying the chance to meander the woodlands.

While Captain had aspirations to be some sort of war horse and would gallop all day if Stephen would let him, his glossy black coat rippling over his lean muscles and his proud head tossed back in delight, Cleopatra was a dappled gray who was a cat at heart and loved to poke her muzzle places and properly explore.

“Why on earth would I have ridden before?” Elizabeth called back, trying gamely to urge Cleopatra to a slightly brisker walk. “The horses in the Rosenburg Estate were not for my use,husband. I might have gotten ideas quite above my station if I had been allowed on one.”

Stephen pulled Captain to a halt and glanced at her again, his brows furrowed. The more she spoke about her life before they had met, the more he felt the best course of action before him was to ride to the Rosenburg Estate and push Rosenburg’s head into a horse trough.

How had she remained such a spirited, intelligent and kind woman with everything she had been against?

“Oop!” Elizabeth pulled on her reins. “Why does she want to go off the path so greatly?”

“She desires knowledge,” Stephen said dryly, moving Captain over to take hold of Cleopatra’s reins.

“And who are we to keep her from it?” Elizabeth said with an amused smile as he drew them on down the path. “I cannot help feeling that it would be easier for me to urge her onwards if I were able to ride the way that you are.”

He laughed. “Perhaps, I am sure I simply lack as a teacher for the appropriate way to manage the horse side saddle.”

“Are you saying that there is something you cannot do, Your Grace?” Her smile was impish, mischievous. It was an expression he was beginning to see more of, it was charming onher face. It made him catch his breath a little, how beautiful she was.

---