Page 4 of The Risky Wager of a Masked Lady
“Oh, I see. Well. Then I suppose there’s nothing more to discuss until we are wed,” Marjorie answered, a quiver in her voice as she fought back the rising nausea in her stomach. “I am grateful, to be sure, and I bid you good day.”
Despite the tremor in her knees, she managed a slight curtsey before turning and leaving the room. Harriet stared after her then looked to her father and their guest before following after her sister. The Duke fought back a sense of disappointment and smiled thinly at Charles Acton.
“I’m afraid the young lady does not find me an enticing suitor,” he managed to say, but the Marquess put a hand up to stop him. He glowered darkly in the direction his daughter had gone.
“Fortunately, Fenworth, it does not matter what she finds enticing. She will be a willing and fertile bride, and that is all that matters. I will see to it, you have my word.”
Chapter 2
“Good morning, My Lord,” a cheerful man called out as Evan Sedgewick rode up to the horse paddock astride one of his favorite horses. “Come to see to your newest arrivals?”
“Certainly, Donohue. How are they taking to country life?” the young Earl asked, jumping down from the saddle and handing the reins off to another stable hand, busy watching the skittish animals stepping tenderly in the grass.
“Well, to be honest, sir, it was a rough night.” The horseman sighed sadly. “They’re simply not used to the fine accommodations you’ve provided here. But give ‘em time, I say. They’ll be calmer and a good bit more familiar with the place in no time at all.”
Evan watched the newest arrivals with a mix of concern and pity. They’d been work horses in the city, lashed on a regular basis, forced to stand in the cold and the rain on slick cobblestones. As hired horses, they’d never once felt the soft loam beneath their hooves, never slept in a stable with sound walls and a roof that kept the storms off their heads. He’d been moved to charity when he saw one of them being beaten mercilessly on his last trip to London, insisting on buying all of them from their cruel owner.
“I gots no use for ‘em anyways,” the toothless old carriage driver had scoffed, eagerly accepting Evan’s money. “They proved useless to me. Was plannin’ to sell ‘em to the knacker for glue next month when I close up shop and move to me daughter’s cottage.”
Now, they’d arrived here in such terrible shape that Evan wondered if he’d ever see a farthing’s return on them. Not that profit had been his motivation, he thought with a sheepish smile. Still, it did his heart good to see them walking for the first time on the green grass of his estate, nibbling at the blades with some trepidation, as they’d never tasted fresh grass before.
“If you don’t mind me asking, My Lord, what are you planning to do with such a sorry lot? Surely you won’t be breeding them with your Arabians!” Donohue asked hesitantly.
“Oh no, not at all.” Evan still watched them with interest. “I’ll admit, I acted rashly when I made the offer of gold on the spot, but I’ve already sent out some letters on these animals’ behalf. I plan to give them a year’s respite from the horrors of that cruel employer, then sell them to friends about the county who want gentle animals for their little ones to ride.”
“You mean to put wee children on these beasts? After the way they’ve been treated?” Donohue looked horrified at the thought, but Evan shook his head in surprise.
“Certainly. There’s good in them, you can tell by the way they carry themselves. See how the one chestnut mare is the leader?” He pointed towards the small group who still clung to each other’s sides fearfully. “The others follow her naturally. If we can win her affection, the rest will be quite happy to be gentle. But look, the poor creatures… they’ve never touched a blade of grass in all their miserable lives. They don’t even know how to walk on God’s earth, having only known the misery of the streets.”
The horseman was quiet as he, too, watched the cluster of fearful animals. Finally, he nodded. “I have to say, My Lord, your gesture was truly one of the greatest kindnesses I’ve seen in quite some time. Your father had the same love for his horses that I see in you. It does my heart good to know that these stables and the fine creatures who live here are under just as good a watchful eye.”
“Thank you, Donohue. I wish I could say I deserve the comparison, but I strive to be like my father in every way. He had a reputation throughout the countryside for his kindness and generosity, and his fairness in all his business dealings. I can only hope to live up to his good name and be worthy of such an honor.”
Evan turned to go but stopped short. He turned back then added with a sigh, “But you’re correct, we don’t want them breeding with the racing stock. Let’s keep them in this paddock until I can have another one constructed just for them. The grass is better here, though, they deserve a holiday from… well, their once-miserable lives!”
The Earl took the long way around the front of the manor, enjoying the crisp misty air. As he crested the small hill that led to the stone and marble mansion, he saw his mother taking in the morning sun on the low terrace that joined her quarters.
“Good morning, my son,” she called when he was near enough that she need not shout. “Dare I venture a guess as to where you’ve been?” A smile pricked at the corners of her mouth, betraying her attempt to be stern or aloof.
“Now don’t go scolding me yet, Mother. It’s far too early. Besides, a good admonishment of disapproval is always more effective when the temperature has risen to unbearable degrees!”
Their contempt for one another was only in jest. Evan took the few marble steps in stride and seated himself at her table. He politely waved off a servant who came forward with another cup and saucer.
“No, thank you,” he called back. “I’ll take my meal inside after I’ve gotten done with these boots. My Lady Mother surely won’t have an appetite if she has to smell the horse pens on me while she dines!”
“Oh, Evan, you’re too much. But I’m not feeling up to much of a breakfast this morning, either. I’ve only come outside a few moments ago, you should have some coffee with me before you go on about your day.”
“If it pleases you, Mother. And if the topic of conversation centers only on horses, business, and whether milk or fresh cream is better in one’s coffee,” he said, smirking at her knowingly.
“Oh? You mean, no talk of marriage prospects, I presume?” The Dowager Countess of Lanercost reached for the cup of coffee that had only just appeared and took a slow sip, watching her son over the rim of the fine porcelain cup.
“That’s precisely what I mean,” he answered, refusing to meet her gaze. He’d all but memorized the look she most likely wore, a combination of polite interest, helpful suggestion, and downright intrusion. “I’ve no time at the present to think of these matters, not with the first race of the season less than a fortnight from now. Thankfully, I have the good fortune of not being a young lady, one who will be condemned to spinsterhood by the ton if she’s not well-matched by the eve of her nineteenth birthday!”
Evan stopped short for a moment, cringing inwardly. Both of his sisters, several years older than he, had been married and moved on by that age. It had broken a piece from his mother’s heart each time, having been closer to her daughters than most members of society were known to be. And here he’d reminded her of that fact while seeming to deride the idea.
“Well then, you shall simply have to endure a lengthy conversation about what I plan to wear to the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall’s ball in honor of their son’s return from the subcontinent!” she exclaimed happily, then launched into a full description of the gown. His mother laughed with delight when he pretended to fall asleep in his chair.
“All right then, go on with you!” she finally said, admitting defeat. “But I do hope you’ll be taking tea with me later on.”
