Page 40 of An Earl Unmasked
His valet bustled about the room laying out some ensemble. “Ye received another invitation from Lord Drake, this time to accompany the men on a hunt, should I decline?”
“No. A good hard ride might be exactly what I need.”
“But ye despise chasing down innocent creatures.” Cartwright picked up the day outfit and shook his head, mumbling, “Ye needs to be hunting down Lady Diana, not some poor creature.”
Hunting for a wife versus a fox hardly seemed an appropriate analogy, yet some might agree that in both cases, a gentleman was out to trap an innocent.
Brushing his wayward thoughts aside, Randal said, “I heard your remarks, Cartwright. I am quite aware of my need of a wife; however, I do not see any reason to simply select the first woman I come across by happenstance.”
Standing at the ready with Randal’s hunting jacket with shiny brass buttons, Cartwright rolled his eyes heavenward. If the man hadn’t saved Randal’s life a time or two, he might have considered firing his valet for such insolent behavior. But Cartwright was as loyal as they came, and he’d never toss the man that rode by his side for years.
Randal had walked the perimeter every day, wishing Diana would come dashing across the field as she had a fortnight ago. That one chance encounter turned all his rational plans to dust. He found himself laying in the grass, making out shapes in the clouds, all in the hopes Diana might find him again—an utter waste of time. Time he could have spent on reviewing the estate ledgers.
Randal was not suited to the life of an idle gentleman. He shoved his arm into his coat sleeve. He longed for the simplicity of military life. At least on the battlefield, his days were routine—wake up, fight, and try not to get killed. Predictable.
Randal stood still as Cartwright buttoned his coat.
After a deep sigh, Cartwright said, “I’ve known ye fer too long, me lordship. Ye needs organized chaos.”
Randal’s mind caught and mulled over his valet’s words—organized chaos. Mayhap his valet was right. But even if he was, it was clear Diana was no longer vested in solving his papa’s riddle, let alone interested in him. Her failure to appear was all the evidence he needed.
Randal blinked as Cartwright waved a hand around in a circle and then pointed at Randal from head to toe. “I’m not sure who ye are.”
Randal tugged on the hem of his sleeves. “I’m the Earl of Chestwick, and I’m off to join the hunt.” He turned and marched toward the door.
“Ye at least look the part,” Cartwright mumbled from behind him.
Randal ignored the jab and lengthened his stride, making quick work of making his way through Chestwick Hall. Stepping out into the fresh air, Randal paused and inhaled deeply—he couldn’t deny the truth any longer—the structure he came home to reclaim was now too large and too empty without Diana and her family.
A cold chill ran down his spine, accompanied by images of the last time he saw the Malburys. He had believed Diana had understood why he had countered and positioned himself to potentially win and thus agree to marry Minerva. He could have easily decided to win the game, but in the end, he chose to end it in a tie as Minerva had originally established. Each time he had been poised to win, he could feel the warmth of Diana die.
Forcing himself to move, he headed for the stables, attempting to recall what the rules of etiquette dictated for a hunt—to hell with etiquette, he would present himself unannounced as they had shown up on his doorstep. At least he had been invited.
*
There was noneed for Diana to look over her shoulder to know who was fast approaching from behind. Isadora wide-eyed, mouthed, “Oh my, what a striking image.” Isadora blinked and continued, “It’s Lord Chestwick! It is no wonder his enemies turned and fled at the sight of him on the battlefield.”
Diana resisted the urge to look. It had taken all her energy to try and banish his image from her mind this past week and had utterly failed. The man haunted her thoughts day and night. Eyes closed, she inhaled, fortifying herself to come face-to-face with the man Kent had assured would not be present at today’s hunt.
The beating hooves were slowing, and Isadora closed her gaping mouth to smile. “With Lord Chestwick’s arrival, the hunt shall be immensely more entertaining.”
“Whatever gave you that impression?”
Isadora ignored her and urged her mount forward to join their brothers and the rest of the hunting party, which consisted of Drake, Cunningham, and a handful of footmen.
She should have stayed at home with Minerva. A shudder rolled through her at the thought of spending another day being questioned by her mama, who was curious and anxious to meet the Beast, especially since both Minerva and she had denounced theton’s claims Randal was ghastly and horrid.
“Are you chilled?” Randal’s smooth baritone voice was laced with concern. Concern for her. Being the youngest sister of three and not the babe of the family, not many concerned themselves with Diana’s welfare, which she preferred.
Avoiding meeting Randal’s gaze, she looked forward and uttered, “Not in the slightest.” How she managed to keep her voice neutral and devoid of her inner want to throw herself into his arms once more was beyond her comprehension. She wouldn’t be able to avoid him for the entire day. Turning at the waist, Diana was taken aback by Randal’s dark scowl. Finding her voice and courage, she asked, “Shall we join the others?”
“Perhaps I should decline and return to Chestwick Hall.”
Seated casually upon his steed, Drake approached. “Lord Chestwick! Glad you could join us today.” Drake eyed him curiously. “You are joining us, are you not?”
Rarely was Diana torn between two wishes. She cursed herself for wanting the attention of a man who had ignored her for fourteen days straight. Every morn she had held out hope of receiving an invitation to return, even if it was simply to use the library. Every night she went to bed disappointed. She refused to mirror her mama’s behavior of staying up each night waiting for her husband to finally pay a moment’s notice.
Diana’s lips betrayed her, she smiled at Randal.
