To Win a Viscount (Daughters of Amhurst)

by Frances Fowlkes

  He was certainly the only one she wished to kiss.

  She flung her hands to the side, stretching out her fingers. Somehow, she had to rid herself of such ridiculous thoughts and focus her attention on the present. And how Mr. White was not walking toward the cross saddle to his right, but a well-oiled sidesaddle to his left.

  “I had hoped to ride astride, Mr. White.” She lifted a finger.

  “No.” He hefted the sidesaddle off the shelf. The leather creaked as his large hands gripped its edges.

  No? She frowned. Some resistance was expected, she supposed, but she had asked so nicely. She had thought, had assumed, really, he would cede to her request. Albina stepped in front of him, halting his progress. “But I—”

  “No.” His voice was firm, his gaze hard, and his stance rigid. He presented an impenetrable fortress.

  She, however, refused to yield to his stubborn, oafish, and irrational ways.

  “I demand it.” Albina’s hands fell to the swell of her hips.

  He chuckled and edged past her. “You can demand whatever you like, Lady Albina. The stables, however, are my realm. I am, as appointed by the earl, the master of this domain.”

  “Yes, but…” She paused and glanced around the barn bustling with the activity of multiple stable hands, all of whom were in possession of two ears and could undoubtedly hear their conversation. Lowering her voice, she added, “I had thought after this morning’s display of my competence and your admission that I am to be Mr. Abbot’s successor, you would wish for me to ride. As much as possible.”

  “Then you thought wrong.” He strode toward a docile-looking gelding and settled the sidesaddle over the back of the stall door.

  Was he playing a game? One with unfamiliar rules where she was some ignorant fool? Albina followed behind him, lengthening her steps to reach the stall with haste. “I don’t understand, Mr. White.”

  Picking a comb out of a wooden box, he sighed. “If you wish for your intentions to remain a secret, then you must do so under my instruction, my lady. As you can see”—he motioned toward the nearest stable hand, but a stall away—“your indiscretion will be seen and noted. After the sun rises, you ride aside.” His gaze lowered, lingering on the gathered neckline at her chest. “Dress or no dress.”

  Heat crept up her neck. Though, she would never admit it was more from the pleasure she found in his appreciative gaze than any humiliation born out of embarrassment or frustration at his refusal. Especially as he had a reasonable argument. She did not want the earl tipped off to her odd riding habits, especially after Henrietta had made him aware of her interest in Emberton. The earl was not a fool—he would see her astride runs for the true training they were.

  Which meant she would have to abide by Mr. White’s wishes. Her acquiescence did not mean, however, that he could not give her instruction while she rode.

  “I would ask that you accompany me out to the lake, Mr. White. Just last week I thought I saw a snake slither on the shore.”

  “Then I suggest you do not visit the lake.” He tossed the comb into the box.

  “But I enjoy the lake,” she ground out. She widened her eyes, attempting to alert him to her ulterior purposes. Was he daft? While snakes were present in the area, they were rare. Surely, he didn’t think she had actually beheld one of the creatures. She simply wished for a viable excuse to have him at her side in a matter suitable for both maintaining propriety and allowing for his training, of course.

  Mr. White frowned before recognition dawned and a brow lifted. “You wish me to accompany you.”

  “Yes, of course. You are the head groom, are you not?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “That I am.”

  “Then, who better to guide me?” she asked with a grin.

  “Who better, indeed.” He placed a blanket across the gelding’s withers and stared in her direction. Her insides churned, her stomach flopping in nervous anticipation as his eyes roved over her light-blue muslin.

  “Very well, my lady,” he murmured. “I shall accompany you out to the lake.”

  Albina clasped her hands together. “Excellent.”

  Mr. White smiled, the dimple in his left cheek deepening. Her knees threatening to buckle beneath her, she gripped the stall door.

  She closed her eyes. With a deep breath she composed herself, mentally replacing the groom’s smile with the marquess’s. Even if Lord Satterfield’s smile had never been given specifically to her.

  Oh, this was ridiculous and utterly pointless.

  “My lady?”

  Albina opened her eyes. Mr. White had the gelding’s ribbons in his hands. His auburn brows were lifted in questioning silence.

  Straightening her back, she shook off her foolishness and lifted her chin. “Have you finished readying the gelding?”

  “I have. If you return to the entrance, I’ll have the horse brought to you while I have another readied for me to ride out.”

  “Yes. Of course.” She spun around and made her way to the end of the barn. Brushing off a layer of dust from her sleeves, she cleared her throat and lifted her gaze to the sky.

  He was a groom, yes, but one she enjoyed being around. He shared a keen interest in her beloved horses. He made her feel…wanted. Desired. And like she was worth the second glance the Marquess of Satterfield always gave her sister. There was no harm in enjoying herself whilst in his company. She was, after all, only human. And in need of his racing insight, as he was an excellent teacher. She was hardly guilty of anything beyond a mutual appreciation for horseflesh and a business agreement.

  She smiled. That they were of two different sexes meant nothing. Did not Sarah share an easy relationship with her dearest friend’s brother, Mr. Annesley?

  Of course, Mr. Annesley was not requesting kisses as compensation for his company, at least not that Albina was aware.

  A horse snorted behind her, and Albina turned. Mr. White led a chestnut gelding alongside hers. “Ready, my lady?”

  “I am.”

  Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifted her onto the saddle.

  And her head into the clouds.

  “Thank you,” she said, far more breathy than she had intended.

  “My pleasure.”

  She didn’t doubt it was, his smug smile a firm testament to his statement. She clutched the ribbons and clicked her tongue. The gelding spurred forward, the usual exhilaration she experienced at being on top of a horse replacing the anxiety of being at Mr. White’s assessing side.

  Adjusting her posture as she went, she led her ride outside the range of listening ears. It took but a moment for Mr. White to join her, the chestnut coming alongside her.

  “I am not foolish enough to believe you have asked me to quit my duties to search for elusive reptiles, my lady.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”

  “I am to deduce then that your wish was for my exemplary company.”

  “Humility, Mr. White, is not one of your finer points.”

  “I never claimed it was.”

  “It may surprise you, then, that I did not call you out for your conversation, but for your instruction.”

  “My instruction?” he asked.

  Truly. It seemed the man’s wits dimmed as the sun’s rays lengthened. She held up the ribbons clenched in her fist and swept an arm over her body. “I am on a horse, Mr. White.”

  “As am I.”

  “I do not have time for childish games.”

  He quirked his brow. “Then please advise how you best wish me to instruct you.”

  “In racing horseback. For the derby.”

  “Ah, I see.” He narrowed his eyes and gestured toward her hand. “First, you must hold your ribbons in your opposite hand.”

  “Like this?” She switched the ribbons from her left to her right.

  He nodded. “And straighten your back. Thrust your chest forward.”

  Albina did as he asked, altering her posture.

  “Now
let me see you ride at a nice trot.”

  “A trot.”

  “To the grouping of trees, just there,” he said and pointed to a copse of elms.

  Albina nodded and urged the horse forward. She held her posture, her body bouncing on top of the gelding as she made her way to the selected copse.

  Mr. White came alongside her.

  “Excellent.”

  Excellent, indeed. The rigid stance had her muscles aching and her back sore. While her body had protested against the rigorous demands of her morning runs, it had not screamed at her as it did now.

  “Mr. White,” she wheezed, her breath restricted from both her posture and the rigid bones of her stays. “Is the posture crucial for winning Emberton?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not at all.”

  Albina brought her gelding up short, the beast snorting its displeasure. “Then why do you have me performing as such?”

  “Because it best displays your figure,” he said simply.

  Albina choked. “My what?”

  “Your figure. You look quite fetching in your gown, and I wished to see it displayed to its best advantage.”

  She hadn’t heard him correctly. The beating of her pulse had drowned out his words. For surely he wouldn’t be so brash as to have her parade about like some sort of strumpet on display for his perusal, when she had specifically asked him to instruct her on racing. Even if she had wished for him to glimpse her stockings.

  That, however, had been on the stipulation she would be allowed to ride astride, not clipped to a sidesaddle as she was now, all prim and proper, and, well…very ladylike. And the farthest thing from an ill-bred woman.

  “You would play me the fool, Mr. White?”

  “Not a fool, my lady. A naïve, and far too trusting innocent, perhaps, but never a fool.”

  “Too trusting.” She frowned. “I had thought you honorable in your methods. I have mistaken you for a gentleman.”

  His smile thinned. “It is my duty to remind you of my place. Always.”

  Albina gripped the ribbons and ground her teeth. “Of all the low-handed imbecilic—”

  “Might I point out that I am unable to train you to race in your current…state,” he said.

  “My current state, Mr. White, is one of humiliation and mistrust.”

  “Humiliation?” he asked. “I realize my trust is not highly valued at present, but believe me when I say you have no reason to be humiliated. Your figure is most pleasing. If you are forced to endure a sidesaddle, why not display it to your fullest advantage?”

  Albina blinked. Her figure was pleasing? And not only a mere pleasing, but a most pleasing? A simmering heat flared low in her belly, quickening her pulse.

  “You find me attractive, Mr. White?”

  His lips curled into a sensuous grin. “Very much so, my lady.”

  Her mouth went dry. He found her attractive. Not Henrietta. Not Sarah. But her. She near burst into a smile at the compliment. He was, however, her teacher. Her trainer. And not the marquess. Clearing her throat, Albina sought to redirect the conversation. “Well, then. Shall we forgo the copse and head to the lake?”

  His smile deepened, and he tipped his hat. “As you wish.”

  Ignoring the rush of pleasure licking at her insides, she clicked her tongue and spurred the horse in the direction of the lake, making certain her posture was as he had directed, the stab of her short stays digging into her ribs be damned.

  …

  A trained horse was a marvelous thing, especially when it knew to follow another rider’s lead. Edmund had little to do but hold the ribbons loose in his hand as he admired the enchanting creature riding in front of him.

  He was, after all, following orders. He had been asked to accompany the delectable Lady Albina out to the lake. To protect her. Specifically from snakes. That he had not seen one of the villainous creatures in his short time at Plumburn was of little consequence, as was the time allotted for the diversion. If his other duties suffered from a lack of his attention, he had but to offer his very valid excuse to an earl who had no qualms, whatsoever, with his sister-in-law riding out unchaperoned with a groom. In particular, him.

  A slow smile tugged at Edmund’s lips. He should feel ashamed for taking advantage of the earl’s generosity, but while gazing at Lady Albina’s bouncing backside, the only thing he felt was yearning—a deep and very tangible desire for a woman who was so far above his social circle, he’d have a better chance of winning Emberton himself than of ever courting the earl’s kin.

  Their relationship ended when the race was won. But that certainly did not mean he could not enjoy the bounties afforded him in the here and now.

  The dark-blue waves of Plumburn’s lake lapped against the rocky shore as their horses stepped up to the frigid waters. Spring may have thawed winter’s frost, but it had yet to warm the lake’s interior, which Edmund knew to be truth. The deep water had provided an excellent remedy for his desire-heated body on more than one occasion.

  He swept his hand toward the best fishing spot on the estate. “May I present the lake, my lady?”

  Lady Albina laughed. “Ah, yes. The lake.”

  Edmund slid off his horse and offered his hand to hers. “Shall we explore and make certain there are no snakes in the area?”

  Her heart-shaped lips spread wide into a smile showcasing her even set of teeth. “It is our responsibility, Mr. White. For the protection of the horses, of course.”

  “We would not want to shirk our duties. Or take them lightly.”

  “No. We would not.”

  She took his hand, the warmth of her palm seeping through his gloves and setting his blood afire. With a hop, she settled herself on the ground, right, precisely, in front of him. She was mere inches away, the scent of her honeysuckle soap catching on the slight breeze.

  He couldn’t help himself, really. He was a man first, as she had stated, and in the presence of an intoxicating and intriguing woman.

  Which was why he dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers.

  She stepped back, her eyes wide.

  His insides coiled. Perhaps he had misread the situation. Perhaps she was not as fond of him as he was of her. “Forgive me, my lady. I had thought—”

  “That you saw a snake?” she asked. “And wished to prevent me from crying out? I must commend you on your quick thinking, Mr. White. For I certainly would have alerted half the countryside to the reptile’s presence.”

  Her eyes twinkled with amusement.

  And his heart near stopped. A rush of relief washed over him. So, too, a surge of gratitude at her humor and a swell of appreciation for her understanding. She was a rare creature, an enigma, and one he wanted more than anything to know better.

  Edmund smiled. “You are most welcome.” Though he was full aware it was he who should be giving thanks.

  “Should we continue our search?” she asked.

  “You lead, I’ll follow.” He snatched the ribbons from his horse as Lady Albina did the same. With the geldings flanking the outside of their party, Edmund matched Lady Albina’s slow but purposeful gait.

  She licked her lips and peered out at the lake. “I used to ride out here often as a child. The distance afforded a good ride, while the trees provided just enough coverage to hide from Plumburn’s highest windows and my governess’s ever-watchful eyes.”

  Edmund lifted a brow. “And what activities did a young lady engage in that she required privacy?”

  Lady Albina gave him a mischievous smile. “Riding astride, of course. In clothing better suited for your sex than mine.”

  Edmund let out a deep laugh. “I should have known.”

  “Indeed. My mother would have greatly disapproved, should she have been made aware of my unorthodox interests, but my father, he supported them. He was the one who first led me to the lake’s shore, and the one who furnished me with my attire.”

  “The earl encouraged you to ride?” Edmund asked.

  She
nodded. “So long as I remained out of sight of the house. And my mother.”

  “Your father sounds like an exemplary man.”

  “He was. We did not speak often, but when we did, it was of horses and painting.”

  “Painting? I was not aware the earl enjoyed art.”

  “Only mine,” she said with a laugh. Her eyes glazed over, her face taking on a distant look, as though she were lost in a time long past. After a moment’s silence, she shook her head.

  “Of his three daughters, I had the most masculine inclination, what with my riding interests. I was the closest thing he had to a son.” Her gaze fell to the ground.

  He had the strongest longing to wrap his arms around her and pull her tight against him. Were it not for the horses and her forlorn expression he would have acted on his urge, but he held back and instead said, “He must have loved you a great deal.”

  Her gaze lifted to his. “Of that I am certain, Mr. White.” She bent down, retrieved a flat stone from among the endless number lining the shore, and ran a thumb over its smooth surface. “He loved me for who I was. Not for who I should have been.”

  “A son?” Edmund asked.

  She shook her head. “A daughter.” She flung the stone into the lake. It skipped across the water, sinking farther out than Edmund would have wagered. She might not have been a man, but she threw better than most.

  And she certainly threw better than him, not that he would ever admit as much.

  Lady Albina turned toward him. “Do you have siblings, Mr. White?”

  “I do. Though my sister passed away seven years prior.”

  “I am so very sorry for your loss.”

  Edmund shrugged away the condolence as he always did. His comfort was not found in words, but in the thrill of a good ride. “I fear my company today was not warranted. No snakes have dared to make an appearance.”

  No sooner had he spoken than a rustle of movement caught in his peripheral vision. He stepped to the right, toward Lady Albina and the fine black she held tethered to her hand. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” She followed his gaze to the grassy area in question.

  A gentle breeze stirred the grasses, and Edmund shook his head at his foolishness. “Nothing.”