To Win a Viscount (Daughters of Amhurst)

by Frances Fowlkes

  The black whinnied and reared. With a gasp, Lady Albina lurched backward, toward the gelding’s flailing front hooves. Edmund thrust his arm out, wrapping it around her torso and pulling her from harm’s way.

  “Something must have startled the horse,” he said, holding her fast and tight against him. A brown snake slithered out of the grasses, the telltale black pattern on its back chilling Edmund’s blood.

  “An adder,” he whispered.

  Lady Albina stiffened his arms, her eyes widening. “Here? But they are—”

  “Venomous, I know. Which is why we need to take care. The warmth of the sun must have drawn him out of his hole.”

  “But the horses,” she hissed.

  “They are as aware of the danger as we are. They will defend themselves if necessary.”

  “And endangering us in the process.”

  “Not while I am here.” Edmund held fast to his charge, the very real danger the situation presented clearing his mind. Should the snake veer to its left, the horse would rear again, possibly smashing the reptile. But should the adder slither right, the potential of a strike on one of them was a possibility he did not want to consider. The thought that any harm might be brought to the lady trembling in his arms…

  “Move ever so slightly to your right,” he whispered into her ear. “Slowly. We want to avoid startling the horse and the adder.” With a subtle nod she did as he asked and inched to the side. Edmund clutched her in a brief squeeze. “Good. Now do it again.”

  With another slow step, they distanced themselves from the threatening reptile. Their movements seemed to bore the snake, who, with a flick of his tongue, darted back into the grass and out of sight.

  Lady Albina fell against Edmund’s chest with a small gasp. “I cannot thank you enough for your bravery, Mr. White. I fear I would have run right into its path. You, however, were a pillar of courage and strength, and for that, I must express my deepest gratitude.”

  “I did only what any gentleman would do under the same circumstances.”

  “I would not know, as I’ve never been in this particular situation. Though now that I have, I am quite relieved I was with you.”

  Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against his. He wasted no time in returning the kindness, his mouth moving against hers in a tender kiss. She responded with delicate pecks on his lips, along his jaw, and down his throat to the top of his cravat…

  Jesus.

  Edmund groaned, unable to restrain the verbal pleasure wrought by Lady Albina’s gentle touch. She brought her lips back to his, his hands slinking down her back…

  She broke the kiss and gave him a smug smile. “Shall we continue tomorrow? After a good morning run?”

  “Tomorrow?” he asked in a haze.

  Her gloved finger touched the tip of his nose. “Tomorrow, Mr. White. I fear I’ve had more than enough excitement for one day. My nerves will not allow for any more.”

  Chuckling, he released his hold and hoisted her onto the sidesaddle. “Tomorrow, my lady.”

  “I look forward to it.” With a jerk of her ribbons she took off, leaving him standing along the rocky shore and contemplating another dip into the lake’s icy waters.

  Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

  Chapter Nine

  Splotches of early-morning sunlight filtered through the budding, high branches, the small copse of oak the perfect respite for the snorting horses after a particularly grueling training run. Edmund’s stallion snorted its eagerness for rest as he followed Lady Albina’s bay, their heavy hooves snapping the fallen twigs underfoot.

  “Here is as good a place to rest as any,” Edmund said, his voice loud in the serene setting.

  “You don’t think it too secluded or far from the pasture?” Lady Albina asked. Glancing at him over her shoulder, she arched a dark brow.

  Of course the dense thicket of trees was isolating and a fair distance from their usual run. He had selected the area precisely because of it. Unseen by Lady Albina, the earl had observed their training from afar on more than one occasion. Four weeks of his sporadic and unannounced visits had taught Edmund to secure his compensation in less visible areas, free from potential viewing and reprimand. The man’s visits brought enough anxiety to Edmund’s instruction, and he didn’t need further pressure placed on his shoulders whilst engaging in what was the most pleasurable part of his tutelage.

  His body warmed in anticipation of receiving his compensation. A month’s instruction had not only made Lady Albina a more confident rider, but a more assured kisser. His instruction had yielded a lean, intuitive racer, yes, but even more so, a curious, bold, and passionate lover.

  That he could not wait to have in his arms yet again.

  “I think the location fine.” Edmund stilled his horse and slid off the beast’s wide back. “The shade allows the horses a nice respite from the sun’s heat.”

  “It is only dawn, Mr. White. And I am still cool in my jacket. I hardly think the horses overheated.”

  “You are yet cold?” he asked. Coming alongside her horse, he offered up his hand, which she grasped as she fell forward, into his embrace. He held her against his chest, the floral bouquet of her soap firming his lower half. “I had thought the new jacket warmer than the previous one.”

  She glanced down at the wool coat he had given her a few weeks prior. While larger than her last, it was thicker, the standard uniform issued from the earl to his staff. Edmund had given it out of his own collection, not wishing to overstep or push the boundaries of the earl’s generosity.

  Trembling in his arms, she said, “The jacket is quite fine, Mr. White. The temperature, however, a bit cooler here than in the sun-filled pasture.”

  “A problem I can easily rectify.” Edmund gathered her close and nuzzled his face into her hair. “Are you warmer?”

  A trill of laughter escaped her lips, accelerating his heartbeat. “I am. Though only by a degree.”

  “A degree? I shall have to do better than that.” He slid a hand under her chin and tilted her face upward.

  “Yes, though, however shall you manage?” she whispered.

  “Oh, I think ways might be found, my lady.” Dipping his head, he pressed his lips against hers. She parted her mouth on a sigh, the small exhalation the welcome encouragement he sought. Without hesitating, he moved his mouth over hers, increasing the pressure. She responded in kind, her teeth grazing across his bottom lip.

  His hand slipped behind her head, his fingers digging into the plaited hair at her nape. He wished for nothing more than to unweave her tresses, for the cool, silky strands to drape over his fingers.

  Lady Albina tugged at his lip. He growled, the sound low and deep in his chest.

  She pulled away, taking a deep breath as she did so. “Well, Mr. White, I think you thoroughly recompensed for your time this morning. Should my estimations be correct, I believe the hour later than recommended. We must return shortly.”

  “Shortly.” He had no intentions of relinquishing his hold on the dark-haired beauty. “I think today, after such a taxing run, more compensation is required.”

  “Is that so?” she asked, a playful smile lifting her lips. “I suppose another kiss would not go amiss. Though”—she paused, touching a finger to his swollen mouth—“it must be short. Time is of the essence, Mr. White.”

  He nipped her gloved finger. “Then I suggest you make it count, my lady. Quality over quantity, and all that.”

  Giggling, she leaned in, touching her mouth to his. He kissed her, daring to deepen the intimacy with a tentative brush of his tongue between the small parting of her lips.

  Bold as ever, she repeated his action, delving into his mouth, tasting of him as he was of her. With an almost carnal urgency, she intensified the action, clasping her arms around his neck and giving in to the pleasures wrought by their joining.

  He didn’t want the moment to end. No. In fact, he very much wanted to continue on this course, to see how muc
h farther she wished to explore.

  His instruction had borne fruit far more tender and plump than he could have hoped to harvest. Her eagerness to please made her a quick study, and one upon whom he wished to impart far more of his knowledge.

  He lowered his hands, spreading his fingers over the full swell of her bottom as she abruptly pulled away.

  “The time,” she whispered. Turning, she gathered up the mare’s leads and clenched them in her fist. “No doubt your staff will be starting to arrive for the day.”

  “They are well trained. They do not need me to begin their duties.”

  “Yes, but should any of them catch sight of me—”

  “I shall tell them you are the earl’s jockey. Have no fear,” he added, reaching for her. “No one will uncover your true identity. Should they be bold enough to question it, I will increase their duties to make certain they do not question it again.”

  Stepping out of his reach, she gave him a sly smile. “But what of the members of the house? The earl is known to enjoy an early ride or two. What if he should recognize me?”

  He would applaud Edmund on her improved posture and handling of the horse, that’s what. But Edmund could not very well admit that to her—the earl had been clear in his expectations. Lady Albina was not to know of his involvement; she was to remain ignorant of his occasional presence, his approval of her riding instruction.

  Edmund stepped toward her, hoping to soothe her anxiety. “You have evolved into a rider who no longer resembles the inexperienced girl the earl would expect to see, should he have you in consideration. Your growth is marked, my lady. You look and ride as well as any man.”

  Her cheeks flushing, she rolled her lips and glanced away. “You seek to flatter me for another kiss, Mr. White.”

  He chuckled and smiled. “I flatter because it is the truth. I do not deny, however, that a kiss would be a welcome recompense for my honesty.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt. But my original concern is valid, Mr. White. The hour grows late, and any eager rider may visit your stables—though I am somewhat appeased that my progression is noticeable.”

  Lifting his hand, he touched his thumb to her chin. “That it is. So much so, when the Marquess of Satterfield visited the stables the other day, I had no qualms in relaying my confidence in an assured win at Emberton.”

  She flinched, her eyes filling with surprise. “You spoke to the marquess?”

  Frowning, he nodded. “I did. He came by to inquire after the horses as he always does.”

  “The horses?”

  “Yes.” Picking up on Lady Albina’s sudden agitation, the mare shifted uneasily behind her. Edmund placed a placating hand on the horse’s neck.

  “Did he…did he inquire after anything else?” She stuffed an errant strand of hair into her hat, her gaze darting to the horse.

  What had wrought the abrupt change in her behavior? The agitated stance? The nervous edge to her voice? Was it possible the marquess influenced her thusly? Made her uneasy?

  However disquieting Edmund found her sudden lack of confidence, he supposed it was more than warranted. The marquess was, after all, her main competitor in the derby. His jockey, Mr. Garrington, was a noted racer. She was undoubtedly rattled by the threat of defeat the marquess’s presence may impose.

  “The marquess is a fierce competitor, my lady. One who is used to winning.” She nodded knowingly, the creases of her forehead puckering into a frown. “But I would not dwell on his inquiries. He is a man informed, with facts I supply. He does not know of anything other than the bare essentials of the earl’s stables. He is not even aware of which horse will ride at Emberton or precisely who will ride it. I have been intentionally vague, as instructed by the earl.”

  Her lips twitched, the right corner of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Thank you, Mr. White. I am certain the earl is in your debt for your discretion. As am I.”

  “Should you wish to show your gratitude, I am at my leisure, my lady.”

  With a flirtatious swat of her hand on his arm, she deepened her smile. “Should we tarry any longer, the earl will not be nearly as gracious. I’m afraid my appreciation will have to be heard in my words of gratitude and not in any physical remuneration.” To enforce her speech, she cozied up to the mare and hefted her foot into the stirrup.

  Not to be dissuaded, Edmund touched his fingers to the brim of his hat. “You know where to find me, my lady. If you feel inclined to offer your appreciation in a more physical manner, I will not decline your offer.”

  A grin lighting her exquisite mouth, Lady Albina gracefully settled herself onto the saddle. “Until our next ride, Mr. White.” With a click of her tongue, she brought the mare around and began her way back to the pasture.

  Not one to be left behind, Edmund ran back to the stallion, eager to pursue the lady.

  Both in a physical and emotional nature. He could not get his fill of Lady Albina Beauchamp. And he doubted he ever would.

  …

  Albina slunk through the servants’ hallways on her way back to her chambers, pausing whenever she heard rushed footsteps or the occasional cough of one of the household’s staff. After a month of sneaking about for her riding lessons, she had become familiar with the comings and goings of the servants. This morning, however, she was later than usual, the increase of traffic in the halls an indication the house was waking for the day, and should her maid not find her in her bed as expected—Albina’s mother would be alerted, the earl notified…

  She hastened her steps, thankful for the thin carpet stretched over the floorboards to dampen the staff’s footfalls. Her scuffling masked, she skidded to a halt in front of her door. Lifting the latch, she slipped into her room—and straight into the disapproving glare of her twin sister.

  “You’re late,” Sarah huffed. A dark brow rose archly over her left eye.

  “I lost track of time.” A complete and absolute truth. While on the mare, Albina had focused intently on her form, her time, the horse’s nuances, and Mr. White’s firm yet encouraging voice.

  She tugged on the quickly done knot at her neck, loosening the linen and unwrapping the cravat. Her sister glanced at the window and the beams of sunlight pouring through the glass. “You’re lucky mother sleeps late. And that I told your maid you did not sleep well and were out on a walk.”

  “Both truths. You did not tell any falsehoods.” As she often did, Albina had tossed and turned with anticipation of the morning’s lesson. She’d struggled to close her eyes, falling asleep only moments before having to wake for the day. To say she hadn’t slept well at all was an understatement, not that her sister would appreciate the verification. Her toe tapping impatiently on the wool rug, she glared at Albina. “You were with the groom.”

  Albina shrugged out of her waistcoat, tossing it onto her bed. “He is my instructor, Sarah.”

  “Yes, but of what, Albina? Kisses? Of intimacies reserved for the titles of husband and wife?”

  She shot her sister a dark look. “Of racing, as you very well know.” Albina kicked off a boot, the offending footwear smacking against the bedpost.

  “And was it racing that has you an hour late?”

  An hour? Her fingers fumbled with the last button on her breeches. She had known it was late, that the time was extending beyond her allowable limits, but Mr. White had been so accommodating, so kind, so…committed. His desire to see her succeed was evident in his instruction…both of riding and kissing. Heat crept up her neck, a physical reaction obviously not unnoticed by her far too perceptive sister.

  “Albina,” Sarah scolded. “You allow him too many liberties.”

  “At least he wants them.” Albina tugged her breeches loose. “The marquess has not made any overtures or shown any interest.” Indeed, the last time she had been in his presence, his gray eyes had barely glanced in her direction. Were it not for Henrietta standing beside her, he would not have noticed her at all.

  “Because he is a gentleman.” Albina
lifted the sheer linen of her shirt over her head and snorted. Sarah grasped the fabric and snatched it off Albina’s frame. “I have cause to believe his interests have changed.”

  “His interests in what?” Albina asked, keeping her arm close to her bare chest and reaching for her chemise.

  “The earl received notice the marquess has requested to go riding this afternoon.”

  “No doubt the two of them will have a good time. Though I hardly see how that merits a change of interests when everyone knows of Lord Satterfield’s friendship with the earl and his fondness for horseflesh.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “The earl invited us to go along with them.”

  “Us?” Albina stilled, one arm encased in the chemise.

  “Yes, us, you ninny.” She tossed Albina a brush. “You have grass in your hair.”

  Catching the brush, Albina held it in one hand and began to undo her plait with the other. “Did the earl do so under the marquess’s instruction?”

  Sarah’s gaze flitted to the floor. “I…I am not fully certain.”

  It was Albina’s turn to roll her eyes. “I take that as a no.”

  “He may not have, but don’t you see?” Sarah grabbed Albina’s shoulders and squeezed. “He is visiting Plumburn. Again. Whilst you remain in attendance.”

  “As does Henrietta.” Albina shrugged off her sister’s hands. “You have yet to convince me of a change in his interests.”

  “He knows full well that Henrietta is no longer an option for his wife. I admit, I may have had a few reservations about the marquess and his attraction to you”—Albina tossed the brush at her sister—“yet he was here but two weeks ago,” said Sarah with an oomph as she caught the silver-handled heirloom. “No man would return so soon if he did not appreciate the company.”

  “As much as I would love to believe it was my company he sought, there will be others in our riding party, one of them being the earl himself. Perhaps this is another friendly inquiry into the horse Amhurst has settled upon entering into the derby.”

  “Or,” her sister persisted, “he is pressing his suit.”