Miss Adeline froze, glancing down the front of her as her face paled.
“I will change immed—“
“Do not bother, Miss Adeline,” he drawled. “It is not your fault the habit was delivered for your use. You could not have known the significance. However, my servants are well aware.”
Jasper had no need to glance upward again because Emily’s gasp had been all he needed to hear. The servants had been warned—if not directly—that their meddling was unwarranted and unwanted.
At least, he was confident there were a few loyal Ailesbury servants not plotting against him. The woman would see soon enough it mattered naught that her attire was suitable and her bow at the ready, if she were unable to keep up when he mounted his steed, she would have no recourse but to remain at the Abbey.
With a satisfied smile, Jasper turned toward the front door as Abbington pulled it wide—revealing not one, but two bloody horses held by none other than his stable master, Watson.
Jasper clenched his jaw to keep from demanding to know why a second horse had been prepared when he’d made his wishes very clear to all involved. The notion of instructing the whole lot of them to pack their possessions and depart Faversham for good would be highly satisfying.
“Which horse shall I ride?” she asked, hurrying past him to coo to each beast in turn as she placed quick kisses to their muzzles.
Bloody hell if that damned riding habit did not cling to her curves as if the blasted thing had been tailored especially for her.
* * *
* * *
ADELINE GLANCED SIDEWAYS at Lord Ailesbury, rigid atop his mount as they cantered across the open meadow behind the Faversham stables in the direction of the wooded area beyond. While the storm clouds had receded to the horizon, an entirely different bank of clouds had settled upon the earl. He’d barely uttered a word after he assisted her onto her horse—a grey mare with an even step and solid stature—but she refused to allow his outright refusal to look at her to dampen her spirits.
This was her first hunt.
No matter that she’d been an unwelcome addition to the hunting party.
Adeline was determined to enjoy herself.
Certainly, she knew she’d one day be invited to take part in a house party that boasted a spirited stage hunt, but she’d never dreamed of hunting with the purpose of feeding an entire household. It was a daunting thought. What if they returned with nothing? Would several servants go without a meal? What if she did something wrong and scared away…bollocks but Adeline wasn’t even aware what exactly they’d be taking aim at.
Fowl? Poultry? Or perhaps something far larger?
She’d never shot her bow from a horse before, especially a moving horse. And what if her target also moved?
If Theo were present, she’d quickly assess all information and instruct Adeline on the most successful course of action in such a situation. But her friends were in London, and Adeline was stranded in the wilds of Kent with a most fierce lord.
She should be, at the very least, a bit wary of the stranger and his servants. Yet, Adeline had the odd sense she’d been at Faversham for years, not less than a day. Strange, especially knowing she’d never particularly favored country life, and the Abbey was far more remote and removed from society than even her family’s country estate.
Relaxing in her sidesaddle, she spurred her horse into a full gallop and took off across the meadow toward the strand of trees she assumed was their destination. It only took a moment for Ailesbury to match her pace…and race past her.
The man did not know her well if he thought she’d allow him to best her.
With a more pronounced kick, Adeline laid close to her mare’s neck as the beast jumped into an outright run. The wind pulled at her carefully coiffed hair, sending pins scattering to the earth in her wake. Adeline shook her head, sending her curls tumbling down her back as the breeze caught them, creating a trail of locks behind her. She’d never before felt so free…and alive. Never had she been allowed to ride a horse in such a brazen manner. Leaning closer to her mare’s neck, she cooed to the beast, imparting words of gratitude and prodding the animal ever on. She shook her head back and forth against the horse’s neck, sending the last of her delicately placed hairpins cascading in the wind as the cold numbed her nose and her eyes watered. She cared naught; instead, she embraced what once would have been a discomfort.
Almost too quickly, they each pulled up on the reins and slowed their horses to a canter as they approached the trees.
She risked a glance over her shoulder and spotted Faversham Abbey in the far distance, tendrils of smoke drifting skyward from at least seven chimneys. The manor appeared larger from across the meadow, if that were possible. She wondered if a servant looking out the tall windows, perhaps on the third or fourth floor, could spot them across the grassy expanse separating them from the Abbey. Adeline doubted it, but what a grand view the servant would have.
Turning back, Lord Ailesbury had dismounted his horse and slung his quiver and bow over his right shoulder before stepping toward her to assist her to the ground.
Adeline shook her head and waved him off as she jumped down, landing with a slight bounce and a smile. Once again, the habit moved seamlessly with her as she reached up to untie the cord holding her own bow and quiver to the horse’s side. There was obviously a story behind the garment, though no one had seen fit to inform her of it. Was it possible that Lord Ailesbury had once been wed, and the habit had belonged to his wife? That would explain his dour mood upon seeing her and during their ride across the meadow.
The cut and fabric of the garment were much like the rest of Lord Ailesbury’s home: in excellent condition for such a dated piece. The material was far stiffer and sturdier than was popular among the ton in recent years. In fact, it appeared new and hardly worn, if anyone had donned the riding habit at all. The color, a scarlet so deep it mirrored the hue of freshly spilt blood, suited her complexion and hair color splendidly. The hem reached just below her ankle and grazed the floor when she’d walked through the foyer earlier. Both Poppy and Emily had gone on and on about how well the garment hugged her frame.
Maybe she’d ask Lord Ailesbury if she could keep the garment when she left Faversham Abbey. Certainly, Alistair would send the coin to pay for it, if the earl did not demand payment in excess of the habit’s worth. There was time, when they returned to the Abbey, to inquire on the matter.
“We leave the horses here.” With both sets of reins in hand, he pulled the pair toward the nearest tree and tied them loosely to a low-hanging branch, giving the beasts ample line to graze at the base of the tree—or sample any low-hanging fruit from above. A pear tree, if she was not mistaken.
Relief eased the tension caused by Adeline’s assumption that they’d be hunting from atop a horse. The ground was preferable, a steady surface was key to a superb stance and accurate aim. Another lesson Theo had drilled into her head from nearly her second day at Miss Emmeline’s School.
“I do not doubt your competency with a bow; however, taking aim at a moving target requires much practice.” He did not spare her even a glance as he spoke—or more accurately, lectured her—about the finer points of bow hunting. “Our bounty today is turkeys.”
“A question, my lord?” When he halted, but did not turn to face her, she asked, “Why does a servant—your gamesman—not fulfill the hunting requirements for Faversham Abbey?”
Even her father had kept a gamesman at their estate. He’d been very accomplished at the position and had seen fit to send fowl and other meats to London for Lord Melton and his children to enjoy.
“I am the only gamesman at Faversham.” His words were clipped, spoken through clenched teeth. “Follow closely. Do not stray from my side. Do not make any commotion. And whatever you do, do not become lost. I will not take on the responsibility of notifying your family of your demise.”
“That seems rather morbid and uncalled for, Lord Ailesbury,” Adeline huffed. “I
resent the implication that I am incapable of caring for myself while on the hunt.”
“You were certainly incapable of taking care of yourself on a proper roadway…” he mumbled, his words trailing off but stating all he’d meant to impart. “Regardless of the situation at hand, I have a responsibility to my people to provide sustenance, and I cannot allow anyone to jeopardize my ability to feed those who depend on me.”
She pursed her lips and inspected the man’s back as he moved farther into the trees ahead of her. If she’d had a proper floor beneath her, she’d have stomped her foot at Lord Ailesbury’s wicked rebuff. The earl acted as if his pantries were not stocked with vegetables, fruits, nuts, cheeses, and bread aplenty. Judging from the repast set before her that very morning, no one under Ailesbury’s care was in jeopardy of starving—at least not in the foreseeable future.
However, even if they found no turkeys this day, Adeline was reluctant to give the man any further cause to lay the blame at her feet.
“This way, Miss Adeline,” he hissed, motioning to the path he’d chosen into the underbrush, both of them keeping their bows slung on their shoulders. “We must hurry in case the storm decides to shift course and return with a vengeance.”
She carefully followed his progress deeper into the wooded area, lifting her feet high and mimicking his movements. The trees overhead were eerily silent except for the remnants of the wind that still lingered from the storm. Eventually, Adeline had need to use both hands to hold her skirts high to avoid them snagging or ripping on the thickening undergrowth. This was made all the more difficult as the canopy overhead blocked more and more of the sparse light attempting to penetrate the foliage.
From the angle in which she trailed him, she gained a clear view of the scars that covered the lower half of his cheek and down his neck, leaving his ear unmarred. They were unlike anything she’d seen before, and she could not pinpoint what could have caused them. Had he been born with them, or injured at some point? And how much of his body did they cover?
In the dining hall, his sleeves had been rolled to his elbows, and the scars had shown there, as well.
Suddenly, Adeline collided with Lord Ailesbury’s back, his solid warmth pressed to her front. She nearly fell to the ground before he reached out and steadied her, a frown marring his face at her distracted stumble. Far too quickly, he released her, and the spike of longing that followed was foreign to Adeline.
He pointed to an area not far off where a group of large birds—turkeys?—ambled about, obviously unaware of the hunters stalking them. They were huge, enormous in height for a fowl and wide in girth. She’d eaten turkey on many occasions, the Christmastide season being one of them, but never had she thought the creatures so colossal.
From his smirk, Adeline knew her shocked expression gave her away.
But, how were they to transport one massive turkey, let alone several, back to Faversham Abbey with only their horses for assistance?
“They are massive,” she whispered close to his ear. “One alone would be enough to feed my entire family.”
Lord Ailesbury’s chest puffed in pride. “Faversham is praised far and wide for our quality turkeys and pheasants. Will you take the first shot, or shall I?”
It was a challenge. Ailesbury was, in a way, calling her bluff. In that moment, Adeline had a choice. She could pass the first shot back to him, or retrieve an arrow from her quiver and load her bow. The large birds were grazing, much as livestock did in a pasture or meadow. If Lord Ailesbury took first shot, the group would likely be on the move, and Adeline’s chances of taking one down and bringing food back to the Abbey would be significantly decreased. Again, Theo would be able to calculate the exact decrease and variances in both scenarios, but there was no time to dwell on that.
Removing an arrow from her quiver, she set her stance, loaded her bow, and took aim.
As they’d journeyed deeper into the woods, the wind had died down and could barely be felt, but the dim light would certainly affect her alignment.
The turkeys were as large, if not bigger in size than the targets she and her friends used in Hyde Park and during tournaments. Her aim could be slightly off and still hit its mark. The bullseye was not as important…or was it?
“Is there a specific place it is best to aim for?” she asked.
“I think it wise to concentrate on hitting one before we speak of aim.” His shoulders lifted and fell several times as if he chuckled to himself over Adeline’s concerns.
The man did not believe her an expert markswoman.
“The heart it is.” She would show the fool that underestimating a woman, especially Adeline, was something many had lived to regret.
She drew a deep breath to quiet the thrashing in her head, aimed, and released her arrow.
It soared through the air in a straight line, veering slightly but correcting itself to drive deep into where Adeline assumed the bird’s heart lay. Her aim had been so accurate and her bow so silent, that none of the other turkeys seemed to notice their fallen comrade.
Triumph soared through her as she held her fist high and gave it a solid shake.
In quick order, Lord Ailesbury released one arrow and then another…felling two more large birds.
Adeline stared wide-eyed at the man. How dare he ignore her skill—worse, overshadow her accomplishment with his speed. She lifted her bow.
Chapter 8
JASPER GLANCED AT the horizon, noting the growing layers of storm clouds that would, with all certainty, travel in their direction shortly. They’d be caught in the coming gale if they did not hurry back. With two turkeys tied securely to his pommel and one on the back of Miss Adeline’s mare, they were ready to depart the wooded area a short ride from Faversham Abbey.
The plan had been for him to take down a turkey before Miss Adeline did aught to frighten the finicky birds away. To Jasper’s continuing befuddlement, the woman had executed a brilliant shot and taken down the first bird. Not to be outdone, he’d shot in rapid succession to take down two more. Not that his estate required three turkeys, but his pride would not allow him to…
He shut his mind down before that train of thought took over. He was not an envious or jealous man. He was not easily prodded into competitions of strength or skill. Especially where a woman was concerned. He’d held his first bow at age six, and he hadn’t expected Miss Adeline’s skill to compare to his in any way—though that was unfair of him. Nonetheless, she’d surprised him with her aim.
More accurately, she’d baffled him completely. He kept his eyes trained on the area before him to keep his reaction hidden. The last thing Jasper needed to do was show the woman he was impressed by her skill.
At some point in their short association, he’d viewed her as helpless and in need of protection. That had been a misguided notion on his part.
“Very well done, Miss Adeline.”
The woman did not so much as bless him with a glance at his words of praise.
He’d need remember to keep any and all acclaim to himself in the future—not that the pair of them had a future.
Standing close to her mount, Miss Adeline attempted to tame her wild hair that had been pulled free of its pins by the wind as they raced across the meadow, but with nothing to secure it, her task was nearly impossible. Jasper didn’t remember his aunt—or his mother—having so much hair. It cascaded over Adeline’s shoulders and down her back, with plenty left over to fall across her face in wild abandon.
They should return to the Abbey with all due haste. With all likelihood, her carriage was repaired and awaiting her departure.
However, something kept him from rushing home.
Jasper untied a length of cord from his quiver and handed it to her. “This may help.”
Miss Adeline stared at the cord he held out to her, her brow furrowed as she continued to struggle with her light brown curls. Finally, she accepted his offer and made quick work of knotting the cord at the base of her neck, giving it a tug to ma
ke certain it would hold.
The silence between them seemed to stretch on until Jasper found himself shifting from foot to foot, tugging at his ear, and sweeping his own loose hair from his face. Anything to banish the uncomfortable quiet.
“Did you learn your skill with a bow from your father?” he asked. Why had he asked about her sire—or anything of a personal nature at all? It would open the way of conversation to his own family, and that was something Jasper had no intention of speaking about. “Ummm, I mean to say...”
His words trailed off when her face lit with a smile.
It was obvious to Jasper now that Miss Adeline had been awaiting his praise.
“Heavens, no,” she said, running her hands down her skirts. “My father, the Lord keep his soul, was well into his advanced years when I was born. And while my eldest brother is adequate with a bow, he cannot claim prowess over me.”
“I am sorry to hear that your father is not still unto this earth.” Again with the unwise topic of family, but Jasper would not be a gentleman if he allowed her words to go on without comment. “However, if you did not learn from your father or eldest brother, perhaps another relation?”
“Abel has no interest in sports. If Alfred and Adrian fancied themselves accomplished with a bow, I would not have been present to witness it.” She shrugged, leaning down to retrieve her bow before looking at her mount. The turkey was secured where her bow had been on the ride here.
He wanted to question her more on her skill with a bow; however, it was none of his business.
“You see, I was sent away to an all girl’s school at twelve. My youngest brothers were only eight and five at the time; they were not allowed outdoors with the rest of us.” She paused, some inner debate clouding her face. “I was actually returning to London after escorting my younger sisters, Arabella and Ainsley, to Miss Emmeline’s School of Education and Decorum for Ladies of Outstanding Quality in Canterbury when the storm hit. Do you know the school?”
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