by Laura Landon
For years Brent had been convinced there wasn’t a woman alive who shared his passion for horses. Yet sitting within his reach was a woman who not only shared his same passion, but was more beautiful than any female he’d ever seen.
And Fellingsdown had found her first.
“You must also have a fine stable of Arabians, if the horse you rode belongs to you.”
Brent couldn’t help but smile. “It does and I do. I have a dozen more beautiful Arabians at Charfield Manor.”
“A dozen?” she said with raised eyebrows. “I’m impressed. That’s nearly as many as Harrison has at The Down.”
Harrison.
The knot tightened in his stomach. If there was any question that the emotion he experienced when she spoke of their host was a form of jealousy, that doubt evaporated with the ease in which she’d used Fellingsdown’s given name.
“We reached that number when Danza presented us with a beautiful filly foal last March. Her name is Xenna.”
“Does she have any of her mother’s markings?”
He couldn’t help but smile. Her interest was refreshing. “Yes. She even has the white cross on her forehead. I’m afraid she’s everyone’s favorite and will be too spoiled before she’s old enough to ride to get any good out of her.”
She shook her head. “You can’t spoil a horse too much. Especially an Arabian. The more you pamper them the more devoted they become. A loved horse will race her heart out for you.”
He sat back in his chair and another surge of admiration for her exploded inside him. How on earth could he pay court to Fellingsdown’s reclusive sister for the next fourteen days when the woman of his dreams sat not two feet away from him? How on earth could he pretend a fascination for someone else when his every thought would be focused on the beautiful woman beside him? “How did you ever become so wise about horses?”
“I told you I spent most of my youth around them.”
“Yes, you little minx. Which led me to assume that your father perhaps was employed at The Down.”
She laughed.
Ah, hell. Even her laugh was mesmerizing.
Endearing.
Captivating.
“I admit that my attire was a little misleading. Harrison always tells me I look like a castoff when I go out riding. But it’s much easier to ride when you’re dressed for comfort rather than style.”
“I take it you and Fellingsdown have been acquainted for a number of years.”
“Oh yes, forever.”
A spike rammed through his heart. If Fellingsdown had known this delightful woman forever, why on earth hadn’t he married her? Surely she wasn’t his mistress. He’d never heard Fellingsdown’s name linked with anyone except Lady Cassandra Waverley before she jilted him for the Marquess of Lathamton, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Especially if he kept a mistress in the country and never took her to Town.
Brent experienced an undeniable rush of anger. If there weren’t so much riding on the bargain he’d struck with Fellingsdown, he’d demand the blackguard make an honest woman of her. Or he’d offer for her himself.
The air caught in his chest. What the bloody hell was he thinking? He didn’t even know her name. How could he consider trying to rescue her when he knew nothing about her?
He mentally shook his head and studied her. He found her looking at him with an equally serious expression.
“What?” A curious little frown changed her features.
He relaxed in his chair and smiled. “I just realized I don’t even know your name.”
She laughed. “Most people would consider it highly improper for me to carry on a conversation with you when we haven’t even been properly introduced.”
“Then perhaps we’d better take care of that small matter. I am Brentan Montgomery, the Marquess of Charfield. And you are?”
She hesitated as if she wasn’t sure she wanted him to discover her identity. Or perhaps she wasn’t sure how to explain her illicit relationship with their host.
Brent made a promise that he wouldn’t show the slightest reaction when she imparted that she was an intimate friend of Fellingsdown’s.
She gave a sigh that spoke a thousand regrets before she opened her mouth to speak. “I am—“
“Ah, Charfield,” Fellingsdown’s deep voice said from behind him. “I see you’ve already discovered the most beautiful woman in the room. Have you been introduced?”
“No, we were just taking care of that detail.”
“Please, allow me to do the honors.”
The beautiful lady tipped her head back and gave Fellingsdown a warm, generous smile. Brent wanted to slap away his host’s possessive hand as it rested on her shoulder. Instead, he smiled as he waited to hear how the marquess would introduce her.
“Elly, allow me to present Brentan Montgomery, Marquess of Charfield. Charfield, this lovely young woman is the Lady Ellyssa Prescott...
“...my sister.”
The floor dropped beneath him and he reached out to steady himself against the chair where he’d been sitting only moments ago.
Sister?
Fellingsdown had called her his sister.
Brent wanted to cry out for joy. He wanted to offer a prayer to Heaven. He wanted to thank Fellingsdown for giving him this opportunity.
But most of all, he wanted to wrap his arms around Lady Ellyssa Prescott and tell her how happy he was that she wasn’t who and what he’d feared she was. Except—
The terms of his agreement with Fellingsdown came back with glaring clarity. For the next two weeks he was to shower Lady Elyssa with his complete attention.
He smiled. Oh, that wouldn’t be hard to do.
And he couldn’t in any way threaten her reputation.
His smile faded. He looked at those full, lush lips and thought he’d die if he couldn’t kiss her. And not just once.
And of the utmost importance, he couldn’t allow her to fall in love with him.
What little remained of his smile died. There wasn’t a chance in hell he could comply with that term.
Not even for a colt sired by El Solidar.
Chapter 5
He knew.
Elly tried not to stare at his face after Harrison introduced her but she couldn’t pull her gaze away. His broad smile faded in slow, agonizing degrees as both the shock and surprise of who she was registered.
She wasn’t sure what he expected. Perhaps someone ugly beyond description with warts and hairy moles to mar her complexion. Perhaps a screaming lunatic the Prescott family hid away in the country because she wasn’t fit for polite company. Or...
...perhaps he’d simply heard the truth about her.
Elly swallowed hard. The Marquess of Charfield wouldn’t be the first nobility she’d met who couldn’t abide being in the company of someone who wasn’t perfect. He wouldn’t be the first person who used the excuse that there was someone across the room with whom they needed to talk as their reason to escape her.
And he hadn’t even seen her deformity yet.
The familiar painful weight pressed against her chest and she steeled her defenses. She knew what to do to protect herself from hurt. She’d done it often enough.
She lifted her chin that telltale notch and waited to see which line of escape he’d use.
“It’s...it’s very nice to meet you, Lady Elyssa,” he stammered more awkwardly than she was sure he’d been the first time he was introduced to a young lady.
“Please, excuse me,” he said, recovering a little more quickly than most people did. “I didn’t expect Fellingsdown to have such a beautiful sister.”
Charfield turned to give Fellingsdown his full attention. The look they shared seemed to indicate there’d been a misunderstanding between them.
“The world is indebted to you, Fellingsdown, for inheriting all the family imperfections and gifting your sister with such remarkable beauty.”
Harrison laughed with an appropriate amount of good humor. “I see y
ou haven’t changed since we were together at school.” He looked down at her and winked. “Be careful what you believe, Elly. Charfield has always had a remarkable way with words. Our last year at school he almost convinced the head master that the goat they found eating his way through the kitchen had not only found its way there on its own, but had the ability to close and lock the door behind it. Luckily for him, it was so near the end of the term they let him finish just to be rid of him.”
“I wasn’t the only one in on that minor debacle, Fellingsdown.”
Elly shot her brother a look of disbelief. “You, Harrison?”
“Of course not. I would never take part in anything so reckless.”
“I’m afraid he’s telling the truth, Lady Elyssa. In fact, several of the lads, myself included, owe your brother a great debt. He spent several hours in the headmaster’s office speaking in our defense.”
“You proved the goat guilty?”
“No. I convinced the headmaster that expelling Charfield and the others might remove them for the remainder of the current term, which would be finished in a few short weeks, but that they would most certainly return for the following term, during which time the school would have to put up with any number of additional shenanigans. It didn’t take a great deal of talking to convince the head schoolmaster to allow them to finish out the term and be done with them.”
“Oh, so you were only an accomplice. I’m ever so relieved. I feared you might have actually been involved with a crime of sorts.”
“She’s got you there, old man,” Charfield said on a laugh that caused a look of exasperation to cross Harrison’s face.
“You will soon learn that Elly seldom allows anyone to get the better of her.”
“Is that true?” Charfield lifted his eyebrows.
“I’ve had a hard life, Lord Charfield.” She raised a limp hand to her forehead in a pose of faintness. “I’ve had to hold my own against the badgering of four domineering brothers. I must admit, such a hardship sharpened certain skills.”
“You have my sympathies, my lady. And my admiration.”
Harrison threw up his hands. “I’ve taken enough abuse for one evening.” He took a step away from them then stopped and gave Charfield a serious glance. “May I rely on you to see Elly in to dinner?”
“Of course. It would be my pleasure.”
Elly experienced a jolt of shock, followed by a stabbing of panic. She couldn’t believe Harrison was handing her over to someone else. Especially someone who made her heart race every time she was near him. Which was exactly why she had to stay as far away from him as possible. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than seeing the look of pity and disgust in his eyes when she took her first step with him.
“That won’t be necessary, Harrison. George will see me in to dinner.”
He nodded his head to where George stood on the other side of the room deep in conversation with a lovely blonde. “I think George has intentions of partnering Lady Brianna Thornton in to dinner. He seems quite captured by her.”
Elly followed his gaze. “Then I’m sure Jules will—“
“As you see, Jules is deep in conversation with Miss Amelia Hastings. I’d hate to interrupt them. She’s a lovely young lady. And Spence,” he said, holding up his hand to stop her next words, “has promised to see Lady Hannah Brammwell in to dinner. Have you met her?”
Elly shook her head.
“You really must. She’s charming.”
Elly was incapable of saying anything. Why was Harrison doing this? He must know she was counting on one of them to keep her company tonight. But if Charfield escorted her, there’d be no hiding from him or from the other guests. He drew attention like fireworks at a celebration.
How could she remain hidden when she was beside the most handsome man in the room? And how would she survive sitting beside him without being obligated to carry on a conversation with him for endless hours?
She clutched her hands together in her lap. Sitting next to him didn’t bother her; talking to him didn’t either. He was as easy to talk with as any of her family. In fact, she looked forward to finding out as much about him as she could.
She clenched her hands tighter. What she wasn’t sure she’d survive was the long journey from the drawing room to the formal dining room. Walking at Charfield’s side, having him feel every uneven step she took would be an unbearable torture. She wasn’t sure she could hide the embarrassment and humiliation she always felt when she was beside someone so perfect.
And no one was physically more perfect than the Marquess of Charfield.
She darted a desperate glance at Harrison as she scrambled to think of another excuse to keep from having to expose herself so completely. But she couldn’t. Nor did she have the opportunity.
Before she could say more, Fitzhugh, the butler, appeared in the doorway to announce dinner. An uncontrollable jolt of panic raced through her and even though she tried to hide it, she knew Harrison could see the fear in her eyes.
“Allow me to help you up, Elly,” Harrison said, stepping to the side of the sofa to retrieve the cane Lilly had placed out of sight.
She had no choice but to slide forward like she had to before she could rise. When she’d reached the edge of the cushion she lifted both hands to grip the arm Harrison held in front of her and pulled herself onto her good foot. When she was steady, Harrison handed her her cane.
A part of the self confidence she harbored died. She knew her cheeks were fire red and she kept her gaze focused on the familiar pattern of the carpet beneath her.
“If you’ll see Elly in to dinner,” Harrison said, transferring her hand from his arm to Charfield’s, “I’ll escort our other guests into the dining room.”
“Of course,” she heard Charfield say, but she wasn’t brave enough to look at him.
Her heart thundered in her chest. She’d known it would come to this. She’d known that eventually he’d see the unsightly way she moved, the ungainly manner in which she rose from a chair, her awkward movement as she walked from one place to another. But she’d thought perhaps it wouldn’t be just yet. She thought she might be able to observe him throughout the night without him getting such a close-up view of how clumsy she was.
She looked up to give Harrison a final pleading glance, praying he’d realize how uncomfortable she was and change his mind. But when she focused on Harrison’s features, every word she’d readied herself to speak escaped her mind.
Harrison stood ramrod straight, his hands balled into tight fists, his teeth clenched so tightly the muscles on either side of his jaw jumped in agitation. Every hint of color drained from his face.
Elly noted the fury in his expression and followed his gaze to the other side of the room. The object of his hardened glare stood in the open doorway looking as magnificently beautiful as Elly had ever seen her.
All thoughts of her own discomfort faded as a frigid tension filled the room.
She glanced at Harrison, hoping to find the right words to make the situation easier. His voice stopped her.
“Who the bloody hell invited her?”
___
It took more courage for Cassandra Waverley, Marchioness of Lathamton to stand in Harrison Prescott’s home than she thought she possessed. Not because she was afraid of Harrison or cared about his reaction - she was far past caring what he thought or what he’d do, but because being under the same roof with him was the last place she wanted to be.
All that made the coming scene the least bit tolerable was knowing he didn’t want her here any more than she wanted to be here. And if his look of shock and barely concealed fury was any indication of his feelings, her unexpected appearance had at least achieved the goal of putting him at a disadvantage. That small victory gave her an immeasurable sense of pleasure.
For a long time neither of them moved. She held a relaxed pose as the guests looked first at her, then at Harrison. Her heart picked up speed as one second stretched into another without
his making a move to greet her.
Then his lips moved.
Cassandra nearly laughed aloud when she realized what he said. Even if no one else in the room heard his words, she’d read them with blatant clarity.
“Who the bloody hell invited her?”
Elation welled within her.
She smiled and stood her ground, forcing him to make the first move. Oh, she’d give anything if she had the option of turning on her heel and giving him the cut direct. But she didn’t.
Shortly after receiving her invitation, she’d received a note. The contents of the message left her with no choice but to attend Fellingsdown’s summer party.
Somehow she had to survive the next two weeks or she’d lose everything.
For several seconds longer she kept her gaze locked with his, then she broadened her gloating smile. Propriety would force him to greet her. Even if he’d refused to come to her aid before, that had been a private matter. This was public and she knew he wouldn’t dare commit such a breach of etiquette before his family and several of his peers.
She slowly lifted her brows and tilted her head, her gesture a dare to ignore her any longer.
Elly placed her hand on Harrison’s arm and said something Cassie couldn’t make out. Whatever it was caused the muscles in his jaw to clench tight. He gave her a final lethal glare, then put a smile on his face as he turned to his guests.
“Please, everyone. Dinner is ready. George, would you lead our guests in to dine?”
Cassie took a step to the side to let the dinner guests walk past her. Each guest greeted her with a smile or a nod or a word of welcome. She paid special attention to both Patience and Lilly as they walked in to dinner on their husbands’ arms. But she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary in their expressions.
Elly was the last to exit the room, but that wasn’t unusual. She was always embarrassed because of her uneven gait and chose to hang back rather than walk at the front of a crowd. Her expression didn’t indicate if she were the one who’d sent the invitation. The only look Cassie recognized was embarrassment.
Cassie knew her friend’s discomfort was because she was on the arm of the very handsome Earl of Charfield.
