“Oh, just go,” she retorted as she padded toward her dressing room. “I know you’re trying to slow me down and I won’t have it. And bring my chocolate in here, Mattie.” She threw open her wardrobe. “I’ll wear the brown velvet riding habit with the braided green trim. The one piece that Madam Celine designed.” She accepted the chocolate her maid offered and took a sip. “Are my black boots polished?”
“Yes, milady.”
“Has hot water been brought up yet?”
“’Tis on its way,” Mattie said as she pulled out the garment.
She took another drink of her chocolate. “Excellent. Because if I’m not at the stables by four minutes past, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Twenty-nine minutes later Cecelia rushed into the stables where Rand was perched on the top rail of a stall just inside the entrance. She was flushed and slightly out of breath and he guessed she had run the distance from the house to the stables. Her hair was a bit untidy but he thought she looked remarkably polished for a female who had dressed in such a short period of time. She was stylishly turned out in the brown velvet and a tricorn hat sporting a black plume that curved toward her shoulder. He couldn’t fault her sense of style. She knew what suited her.
She stopped an arm’s length away from him. “Would you have the time, sir?”
He made a show of consulting his watch, yawned then said, “Oh, you’re finally here? Almost nodded off while I was waiting.”
She put her hands on her hips and grinned. “Admit it. I made it, didn’t I?”
“With a minute to spare,” he admitted.
“Brilliant.” Still smiling, she leaned against the railing and pulled a small napkin wrapped bundle from her skirt pocket.
Rand watched as she unfolded the napkin and took out a thick slice of bread wrapped around a chunk of ham. He waited until she had taken a bite before saying, “What have we here? Would this be your breakfast?”
“I didn’t have time to eat and get dressed. Oh, drat.” Obviously realizing her mistake, she quickly shut her mouth.
He cupped a hand to his ear. “I beg your pardon? Did you just say there wasn’t time to do both? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe my words were ‘get dressed and have breakfast in half an hour’s time.’ You’ve only accomplished one. And if you attempt to polish that off in the ten seconds you have left, you’ll likely choke on it.”
“Unfair,” she protested.
“How so?”
“It just is.” She turned away and ignoring him completely, ate her bread and ham while they waited for stable hands to bring down Penny and Hudson.
It wasn’t long before they heard the clipped rhythm of hooves against the packed earthen floor. Penny led the way with Hudson directly behind her. Rand thought he’d never seen two more splendid animals. Beautifully sculpted of smooth muscle and sleek lines, they moved with grace and arrogance. Penny’s coat gleamed like a copper penny; Hudson’s like polished ebony. Both had liquid brown eyes that shone with intelligence. He watched with amusement as Penny forcefully nudged aside the wiry stable lad who held her, in order to reach her mistress.
“She’s feeling her oats today, milady,” the lad muttered with embarrassment.
She turned a sunny smile on him. “She’s a handful, isn’t she? I’m afraid she’s inherited her arrogance from her sire. He was forever knocking stable hands to the ground.” Stroking the mare’s muzzle, she crooned, “My sweet girl. Are you looking forward to a good gallop?”
Rand lifted her into the saddle then picked up the satchel holding their provisions and strapped it onto Hudson’s saddle. He turned to the oldest lad. “We’re headed to the ruins, Jake. What’s the easiest way to get there?”
“Ride ‘cross the fields ‘til ye reach the stream. Follow the stream to the bridge. On the other side ye kin take the road wot runs ‘longside the woods or ride straight ‘cross the meadow. Stream feeds a lake right close t’ the ruins. It’s pretty.”
“Tell Mrs. Brice we’ll be home for dinner.” Rand hoisted himself into the saddle and Lord and Lady Clarendon were on their way. They trotted past pens and paddocks and several cottages that housed the stable hands and Rand couldn’t help but think of all the work waiting to be done. Some of the pens needed to be rebuilt; nearly all of them needed painting, more stables and cottages needed to be built and the existing stable roof leaked in spots. Whitley was in the process of hiring more help and building materials had been ordered. Things were progressing, though not as quickly as he would like.
The interest he took in the land went beyond a proprietary or fiscal interest. Fenton Abbey was beginning to feel like home and this was a new and still somewhat surprising experience for him. His bachelor quarters in Mayfair had simply been a place to sleep. The townhouse was his mother’s domain and Bryony Hall had not seemed like home since that last encounter with his father. He and Cecelia would need to visit the other estates and he knew she would want to spend time at Bryony Hall, but this was their home and hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before there were a couple of Clarendon brats to complete to picture.
He shot a sideways glance at Cecelia. She controlled the mare with expertise, but the animal’s ears were pricked back and her muscles quivered with barely contained impatience. It was obvious that rider and mount were both bristling to be given free reign. He understood Harris’s exasperation with her. On horseback, she was fearless and containing that fearlessness was not an easy task.
A few minutes later they passed the last outbuilding and the land opened up, vast and unencumbered. “Are you up for a race, my dear?”
The black plume fluttered as she turned her head toward him. Two spots of color showed on her cheeks. He saw the gleam of competition in her eyes. “I’m always ready for a race, my lord.”
“You won’t win of course,” he taunted. “Hudson’s a powerful beast. But I suppose we could give you a head start.”
Her eyes sparked defiantly and she tossed her head. “How terribly generous of you, sir. As a mere female, I’ve no chance of besting you in such a masculine sport unless you grant me some advantage. I gratefully accept your offer of a head start.”
He cocked a single blond brow. “I’m pleased to hear you understand how things are. On occasion, you seem to forget.”
She tossed her head again. “Pray tell, what is our destination?”
Grinning, he looked at the field stretched out before them trying to discern something that would make a tangible finish line. In the distance, a white fence snaked across the grass.
Before he could say anything, she called out, “See the fence up ahead? Whoever jumps it first, wins.” And without waiting for a response, she and Penny surged ahead.
He heard her laughter as she leaned over and encouraged the mare. He counted to ten and nudged the trembling Hudson, who plunged into the race as if the devil were at their heels. The broad-chested stallion was rippling muscle, sinew and steel, unwilling to ignore a challenge and hell-bent on victory. Rand crouched over the animal as they pounded the earth. Other than the head start he would make no concessions in this competition. He felt the raw power in Hudson’s flanks and the ground beneath them became a blur as the stallion ate up the turf. Three-quarters of the way to the finish line, they pulled ahead. The mare stretched forward as she valiantly tried to regain the lead but it was a futile attempt. As magnificent as the mare and her rider were, they were no match. The stallion lengthened his stride preparing for the jump ahead. The fence was no more than five feet tall but Rand felt sheer exhilaration as they soared. It lasted mere seconds. They hit the ground and he reined in.
Cecelia whooped as she landed safely not far behind him. She landed safely. He went cold. Christ! Talk about idiocy! They’d made the jump without having the faintest idea what was on the other side of the fence. He couldn’t believe he’d been so foolish.
Her voice rang out. “I’ll concede you your win, but one of these days I’m going to best you, though I’ll likely need
to wait until that beast of yours is put out to pasture. He’s simply outstanding.”
He wanted to rant and rave and shake her for taking such a foolish risk. But he was at greater fault. He was her husband and therefore responsible for her safety. That this eighteen year old had scrambled his brains was no excuse for his own recklessness. He gave himself time to calm down before he turned to face her and spoke in a clipped tone, “What we just did was foolish. We had no idea what was on the other side of this fence. There could have been a ditch, a pile of stones, anything. We’re damned lucky we didn’t break our necks.”
Unconcerned, she reached up to straighten the tricorn hat. “Oh, but I knew it was safe. This is the only fence I can jump without Harris having a fit.”
“You’ve ridden here before? Why didn’t you mention it?”
She shrugged. “I was occupied taking advantage of my head start. Does it matter?”
“I suppose not.” What mattered was that he hadn’t known it was safe and he had
allowed the risk. Had he joined the ranks of the other Clarendon idiots? He was known to take risks, but once he’d accepted the trappings of maturity, the risks he took were generally calculated. He hadn’t put a second’s thought into the outcome of sailing over the bloody fence. He closed his eyes a moment and sighed heavily trying to force the tension from his body.
“Aren’t you being a bit overcautious?”
His eyes opened. “I’d rather be overcautious, than reckless.”
“From what I understand that hasn’t always been the case.” She cocked her head and pursed her lips. “Tell me. Is it true you scaled a three story brick wall for a romantic interlude with the wife of one of your tutors when you were at Oxford?”
“Don’t believe everything you hear. My exploits have been greatly exaggerated. If I did half of what it’s been said I did, I’d be dead by now.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“And I don’t intend to,” he muttered. It seemed his past would follow him for the rest of his days.
Cecelia nudged the mare forward. “The stream isn’t too far ahead but you won’t see it until we reach the top of the rise,” she called over her shoulder. “It’s a lovely spot. It’s wide but doesn’t appear too deep. We could probably ride through the water, but I daresay, you’d rather take the bridge.”
“I daresay, you’re right,” he said pointedly as he and Hudson caught up to her.
They cantered up a gentle slope enjoying the warmth of the sun on their faces and the
sweet summer scent of crushed grass and honeysuckle. It was only a matter of minutes before they reached the stream, a swift moving, glittering surface close to forty feet wide. At its edge, silvered water tumbled over smooth rocks. Poplars and tall grasses grew along the banks. They stopped long enough to let the horses drink, then picked their way along the water’s edge until the stream narrowed and they reached a stone bridge just wide enough for a carriage to pass over. Rand dismounted and headed toward it. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Cecelia brushed a stray curl from her cheek. “What are you doing?”
“There’s a crack along one side and some of the stones have tumbled down into the water. I’d rather we didn’t tumble down with then and take an unexpected swim.”
She watched as he knelt down to examine the damaged concrete. He’d taken to riding bareheaded and the sunlight glinted off his lightened blond hair. His skin had tanned from his days riding the estate and she knew from their lovemaking that he’d developed a few calluses. A smile tugged at her lips. A bit of the town bronze was wearing off and she liked the changes. When he headed back their way, she called out to him, “So how does it look? I really don’t mind getting wet.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but it’s fine.” He swung back into the saddle.
Cecelia touched her fingertips to the brim of her hat. “Lead on, my lord.”
Once they’d crossed the bridge, Hudson and Penny were given their heads and moments later they were galloping across the meadow. The wind whipped at her hair and the skirts of her riding habit billowed behind her. This was no race. They were riding hell for leather for the sheer pleasure of it. Joy thrummed through her as they flew over a blur of green and she was beginning to hope the ride would never end. However, when they reached the summit of a steep rise and the ruins came into view, she changed her mind.
“Oh, how lovely,” she said as she reined Penny in.
The Abbey rose a majestic four stories high from the center of a deep valley. It was flanked on one side by a cluster of partially intact outbuildings and on the other by a large pond whose surface mirrored the sky above. Ivy covered the exterior walls of the Abbey, obscuring much of the pale gray stone. The roof was missing and portions of the walls had fallen, but its splendor was still obvious.
Rand urged Hudson forward and they traveled down the incline, sidestepping fragments of stone and tile that littered the ground. A gatehouse set between two soaring columns, appeared to be the only formal entrance. They passed beneath a thick archway that dripped with ivy. Inside a maze of both crumbling and undamaged walls made up the various cells and chambers. A curving staircase set off to one side would have led to the second and third levels had the floors remained.
“One could get lost in here,” Cecelia said with a sense of wonder. “I had no idea it was so large. Anyone who would try to tear down something this wonderful should be cursed.”
Still mounted, they wandered about trying to guess what the various rooms were used for. When satisfied they had seen everything, Rand turned to her and said, “You must promise me that you will never bring Rosie and David out here. At least, not without a leash. They would take off running and we would never see them again.”
“You’re awful, but I daresay you're right. I'll wait until they're older.”
“Twenty one at least. Now, where would you like to have lunch?”
She smiled. “By the pond.”
The water’s surface was still, reflecting the blue skies and scudding clouds overhead. Marsh grasses grew along much of the edge, hiding the family of ducks that had fled at the sight of their visitors. Seagulls soared overhead. Cecelia nudged Penny forward, inspecting their choices, before deciding that the shaded area beneath a willow that grew near the pond’s edge was the perfect spot for a picnic.
She turned to her husband. “Isn’t it wonderful? Do you think the ducks might come out of hiding? I had them eating out of my hand at Reardon. I’ll leave bread close to the water before we leave. Maybe, once they get used us, they’ll come looking for food.”
Her face was alight with pleasure and Rand wondered what it would be like to live in a world where everything seemed wonderful. At times, he envied her innocence.
He shook his head as she slid gracefully off her saddle and onto the ground. She was incorrigible. “Must you do that, Cecelia? You should wait for me to help you down.”
She spun around and put her hands on her hips. “But, why? I can get down perfectly fine without assistance. I know it isn’t quite the thing in society, but no one else is around to see. I wouldn’t think of doing it if they were.”
“I’m beginning to wonder how you survived the Season. Your independent nature won’t be appreciated by most of the ton and you know how cruel they can be. You’ll have more gossip directed at you than you know what to do with.”
“Don’t fuss. I survived the Season quite nicely. I understand the rules. And since when do you care what the ton thinks?”
“Since I married you,” he said pointedly. “And since we’ve made plans to have children.”
She was quiet for a moment then dipped an exaggerated curtsy. “I beg your pardon, my lord husband. I shall make every attempt to curb my independent nature.”
“Excellent. I love a docile woman.” He dismounted, unbuckled the saddle pack and placed it on the ground. “There’s a flagon of burgundy in there and I’m thirsty. Pour me a glass of wine, wench, while
I tether the horses.”
This time her curtsy was so low, she almost toppled over. “Yes, my lord and master. Whatever you wish is my command.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Truly?”
“Of course. I would never knowingly tell you a lie.”
“In that case, I wish you naked.” He grinned, then sauntered off leading Penny and Hudson to an area more suitable for grazing.
When he returned a few minutes later, he found the blanket laid out along with the flagon of wine and two glasses, but no Cecelia. Assuming she had left to attend to private matters, he sat down on the blanket to drink his wine and wait. But after another ten minutes of waiting he began to wonder what her game was. Or even if something had happened to her.
He stood, cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Cecelia!”
Her voice came from the wooded area behind him. “It took you long enough! I’ve been waiting here forever.”
He turned to look but there was no sight of her. “Where the devil are you?”
“Did you really think I’d let you get away with calling me a wench? If you want me, you have to find me.”
Rand scowled. He wanted to make love to her, not play nursery games. “Come on out, Cecelia. I don’t want to spend my time playing hide and seek.”
“Don’t be such a grump. I’ll give you a clue.” A rustle of leaves came from the right and when he turned in that direction a boot came sailing toward him. He heard laughter and she danced out from behind a tree about twenty feet away and the other boot came flying at him followed by two balled up silk stockings. “Come and get me, my lord husband. That is if you can.” She did a little twirl then disappeared behind the trees.
The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy) Page 24
