Page 15 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

Chapter Five

Evan had surprisedhimself by inviting Rachel St. Clair to ride with him. If he were wise, he would have joined the other male houseguests and gone shooting.

He’d never claimed to be a wise man.

The second surprise had been when he spontaneously asked her to ride to Edgemere with him. He’d wanted to visit his estate in the next day or two. With the pleasant weather and a beautiful companion, now seemed the time to go. She’d readily agreed and they’d struck out on the main road that would pass by his estate.

“Can we ride faster?” Rachel called to him. “This horse is chomping at the bit. I want to see what he can do.”

Evan nodded and she took off on the coal black steed, its coat as dark as her luscious, thick hair. He decided tonight’s lesson might extend to touch for he very much wanted to run his fingers through her dark locks.

As he urged his horse forward, he wondered if she would show up at midnight tonight. He thought she would. If anything, Rachel St. Clair was curious. She would want to see how the next lesson unfolded. Evan could kick himself for offering to teach her how to kiss. He didn’t want to become involved with any woman at this time. He was still nursing a bruised ego from practically being kicked out of the army, plus he had much to do in order to get Edgemere up and running again. More than anything, he wanted total quiet after years of the noises of war. He believed a solitary life would suit him well.

Truth be told, he was a little afraid of this woman. She was independent, spirited, and opinionated. He’d always preferred docile women, who did as he asked and then went away when he wished, no commitment between them. Rachel was idealistic enough to believe in love.

Evan didn’t think it was possible for him to love.

He blamed his past for it. He’d been so young when his mother was killed. He supposed she’d loved him but it was hard to even remember what she looked like. His only interaction with his father had been when the duke gleefully beat him, only to send him away, never speaking to him again. His uncle paid very little attention to Evan, favoring his son in every instance. Laurence had no use for Evan, much less showed him any family love. Instead, Laurence tried to bully him. When Evan stood up to his cousin, Laurence resorted to telling outrageous untruths about him to the other boys at school.

Thank goodness Evan had made friends with Alexander Lock. Alex’s parents had been warm toward him every time Evan visited but he doubted they loved him. The army had made it clear that fear and discipline were the only factors that guaranteed success. Living for years in a war zone, Evan had never truly relaxed. He became self-contained and self-reliant.

Except for his men. He’d tried his best not to become too attached, knowing that death was only a shot or bayonet away. And when, after years, he finally did open his heart to them, he’d gone and gotten most of them killed. The lesson he’d learned was to lock his heart away. Keep to having no emotions. It was safer that way. If he didn’t feel, he wouldn’t hurt.

The trouble was, Rachel St. Clair had stirred feelings within him, ones that threatened to escape faster than a team of runaway horses. He needed to watch carefully and not become involved with her. He’d still tutor her so that, one day, when she did find that man she determined to be her soulmate, she’d have a leg up on how to please him. Evan would show the young beauty what she needed to know—but even when things turned physical, he would need to divorce himself emotionally and keep his distance from her.

He caught up to her, astonished at how well she handled her mount. When they reached the turnoff for Edgemere, he signaled and she turned her horse as they headed to the east.

Her cheeks were flushed and those emerald eyes sparkled as they slowed their horses to a canter.

“I haven’t ridden so fast in months!” she exclaimed. “Rotten Row is terribly sedate. I would have been proclaimed a pariah if I’d ridden this way in London. Thank you, Evan. This was wonderful!”

“Merrick,” he corrected.

“Oh, bloody hell. We’re alone. I’ll call you whatever I want.” Her mouth set in determination and she took off again, flying down the lane.

His heart jiggled in his chest.

Evan knew he was in trouble.

He chased her down again and she finally slowed as they approached the main house.

Rachel tugged on the reins, bringing the black horse to a halt. “Oh, this is beautiful. It’s even larger than Fairfield.” She grinned at him. “Of course, youarea marquess. I suppose you should own a larger house than an earl.”

He looked at it with new eyes. The last time he’d seen his home, he’d been twenty-one, a young man fresh out of university. He returned now war-weary, his life experience resting solidly on his shoulders. Yes, the house was beautiful. Much needed to be done, though, to make it livable again.

“I let all but one gardener go,” he told her. “I’ll need to hire more to help him clean up the landscaping. I’m sure the gardens are in atrocious shape.”

“What about your household staff?”

“I dismissed them. I didn’t know how long the war would last—or if I would even come back.”

“And your tenants?”

“They remained, along with my estate manager, Mitchell Finfrock. I saw no reason to displace them. Finfrock sent me brief reports. The estate has thrived in my absence.”

“Which would you rather do first—visit with Finfrock or see the inside of the house?”

“The house,” he determined. “The stables are empty. Let’s take the horses to the pond and let them drink their fill. They deserve it after being ridden so hard. This way.”

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