by Brenda Hiatt
"No. No, there hasn't." Lady Adelaide's eyes flicked from Tessa to Quinn and back. She looked confused and hurt, as well she might, Tessa thought. Despite her own discomfort, she felt a flicker of sympathy for the woman, imagining how she herself would feel in Lady Adelaide's place. But surely Anthony hadn't really—
"I believe the Duchess chose to wait until Lord and Lady Anthony were in Town to make the announcement," Quinn said then, interrupting Tessa's unsettling line of thought. "They were married quietly in the country, as Lady Anthony's father is an invalid and therefore unable to travel."
"I see." Lady Adelaide's eyes swiveled back to Tessa. "Lord Anthony always did have a soft spot for hard luck cases. You are to be congratulated."
Then, without another word, she turned and swept out of the shop, leaving the shopkeeper and other customers open-mouthed.
"What cheek!" Quinn exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind her. "I'm certain that when I saw her and Lord Anthony at the same gathering last summer, he paid her no special attention. Clearly, her expectations were all on one side."
Tessa burned to ask about the "intimacy" Lady Adelaide had mentioned, but of course could not do so in front of the shopkeeper —not that Quinn would necessarily know the truth, anyway.
"I . . . I've decided on these flowers, I think," she said instead, desperate to divert her thoughts for fear she might cry in public, disgracing herself yet again.
Taking her cue, Quinn and Sarah fell to discussing the various items she needed to purchase, and a few minutes later the trio left the shop, rather more subdued than when they'd entered it.
"Pray take no notice of what Lady Adelaide said," Quinn implored her as they settled themselves in the carriage to return to their homes. "Whenever someone like Anthony marries, some ladies are bound to be disappointed. They weave fantasies about handsome and eligible gentlemen, and some manage to convince themselves that their fancies are truth."
Sarah nodded vigorously. "She's right. I've heard numerous stories of women making complete cakes of themselves, simply because they had convinced themselves that some man felt more than he truly did."
"Thank you. Thank you both," Tessa said, managing a shaky smile. She herself had been guilty of weaving fantasies about Anthony after meeting him—but her dreams had come true.
Hadn't they?
* * *
"You must be joking." Marcus eyed the tall, red-and-white skewbald gelding with obvious misgiving. "Not only is he foul-tempered, he's too big for a lady —and ugly, to boot. You can't possibly put your wife on such an animal."
Anthony grinned. "I might ask why you have such an animal in your stables, if he has nothing to recommend him."
His youngest brother grimaced. "Quinn saw him being mistreated by some tinker and insisted on rescuing him—by buying him. I believe even she has come to regret the impulse, however."
"I have to agree with Marcus," Peter put in. "We've looked at half a dozen horses that would make better mounts for Tessa than this monstrosity."
But Anthony was firm. "I want her to try this one first."
"As far as I know, he's not even broken to sidesaddle," Marcus cautioned him. "Certainly we haven't attempted to put one on him. In truth, he'd be better suited for a cart horse —or the knacker."
Peter shook his head. "He'd overturn a cart, I've no doubt. I still don't understand, Anthony —but I presume you have some method to your madness?"
"I do, indeed. Let's see if we can find a sidesaddle to fit him, shall we?"
He wasn't about to tell his brothers about Tessa's crisis of confidence last night, but he thought a difficult horse might be the very thing to restore it, reminding her that she was indeed special. While he'd have preferred a prettier animal, that really wasn't the point. She needed something to distract her from her worries about being accepted by his parents and Society, and he was fairly sure this fellow would do just that.
Tessa arrived back at Marland House only a few minutes after Anthony, two footmen trailing her from the carriage, laden with purchases.
"You appear to have made quite a haul, my dear," he greeted her cheerfully. "Shall we go upstairs so that you can show me all of your new fripperies?"
"If . . . if you'd like." Though he'd have expected such a shopping expedition to lighten any feminine heart, Tessa's expression was subdued, even guarded.
He waited until they were alone in Tessa's chamber to ask, "What's wrong? Is it the money? I know it must seem excessive, when you've had to pinch pennies in recent years, but—"
"No. Well, that is part of it, I suppose. Quinn told me that the Duke and Duchess had agreed to bear the cost, if necessary." He noticed that she did not face him as she spoke.
Anthony felt a spurt of irritation. "Kind of them," he said, knowing full well that such an offer was rooted in self-interest, "but it won't be necessary. I've a bit laid by. No fortune, of course, but more than enough to dress my wife properly."
"That . . . that is good to know." Still she did not meet his eye. "I would prefer not to be indebted to your parents."
He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "There's something else, isn't there?"
She hesitated so long that he thought she wasn't going to answer at all, but then she said, in an expressionless voice, "We, ah, met an acquaintance of yours while shopping today. A Lady Adelaide."
"Lady Adelaide?" It took him a moment to place the name, but then he remembered the forward brunette who had been one of several reasons he'd left Town early last summer. "Oh, yes. But— what did she say? Was she rude to you?"
"Quinn thought so, but I imagine she was simply too surprised to think before she spoke. She seemed quite . . . taken aback when she learned of our marriage."
Anthony grimaced, remembering Lady Adelaide's triumphant smugness when she'd inveigled him into a most unwise kiss at the Creamcroft ball last Season. They hadn't been seen, thank heaven, and he'd been careful not to be alone with her again, but she'd made it clear she considered his moment of weakness tantamount to a declaration.
She'd begun accosting him at every gathering, even going so far as to write his name on her dance card herself on one occasion. He'd been pursued by other ladies —or their mamas on their behalf —but Lady Adelaide had been the most importunate. He'd felt like a fox on the run from a very determined hound.
Between her pursuit and that of two or three other determined young ladies, he'd decided to go North immediately after Marcus's wedding to shoot grouse before cub hunting and then fox hunting began. Now he wondered if that had been wise, for there was no knowing what stories Lady Adelaide might have put about in his absence.
"Lady Adelaide formed, ah, expectations based on the slightest of attentions and refused to be discouraged, though I did try, believe me," he finally told Tessa. "I promise you she was nothing to me."
"I see," Tessa said quietly, though he wasn't sure she really did. "Quinn said the same, though of course she was not in London until summer." She turned away again. "Lady Adelaide is very beautiful."
Anthony took two quick steps to grasp Tessa by the shoulders, then turned her to face him.
"Lady Adelaide is pretty, yes, like a hundred other simpering London misses, but she holds not one tenth the attraction for me that you do, Tessa. Not only are you far more beautiful than you realize, but you have a strength of character that is exceedingly rare —and that appeals to me far more than mere beauty ever could."
Finally, she brought her gaze to his, her lovely brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Truly?" she breathed.
"Truly," he replied firmly. "You are the only woman I care for, Tessa. The only woman I've ever really cared for. Why do you think I insisted upon marrying you?"
For a long moment she stared at him, as though trying to divine his true thoughts from his expression. Then, to his relief, she smiled —not a happy smile, but a smile, nonetheless. "Thank you, Anthony. I'm sorry I doubted you."
Bending down, he kissed her lingeringly on the li
ps. "I can't help feeling it is yourself you have doubted, more than me, Tessa. But come, show me what you've bought. After that we'll have a spot of tea and then I have a surprise for you."
He was doubly glad now that he hadn't listened to his brothers' advice in the matter of that horse. That snappish skewbald was just the thing to restore Tessa's confidence.
* * *
Tessa was feeling much more herself after a light luncheon accompanied by light conversation about London and Society, which allowed her to momentarily forget her worries. The Duchess and Lady Bagstead largely ignored her, but she didn't mind that. Quite the contrary, in fact.
They had just finished eating, and the other two ladies had gone upstairs to dress for an afternoon engagement, when Quinn, Sarah, and their husbands arrived.
"Marcus tells me you've found a mount for Tessa, but he refuses to tell me which horse it is," Quinn said.
Tessa glanced at Anthony. "Is this the surprise you spoke of?"
He nodded. "Let's all walk round to the mews and you can tell me what you think. Then, if everyone is amenable, we can take a ride in the Park, as the fog has lifted for the moment."
They waited while Tessa went up to change into her best riding attire —the fashionable new habit she'd ordered wouldn't be ready for two or three days —then they all walked down Grosvenor Square and around the corner to the mews that ran between Brook and Grosvenor Streets.
"I hope you don't mind the walk," Quinn commented as they approached Lord Marcus's stables. "I suppose most people would drive, even though it would doubtless take longer."
"Goodness, no." Tessa tried to hide her amusement. "Why, it's three or four times as far from the house to the stables at Wheatstone, and I walk it several times a day." Were people in London really so lazy —or so bound by propriety? If so, she really would never fit in.
"Here we are," Anthony announced then. "What think you of this fellow, Tessa?"
She looked up at the rangy red-and-white blotched gelding he indicated and blinked. It was perhaps the least attractive horse she'd ever seen, and the angle of its ears implied that its disposition by no means made up for its appearance.
"Anthony!" Quinn exclaimed before she could speak. "This is a joke, is it not? Which horse have you really chosen for Tessa?"
Sarah, carefully keeping her distance from the gelding, looked to Lord Peter, who shrugged. "This is the one he insisted upon, is it not, Marcus?"
Lord Marcus nodded. "We both tried to dissuade him, believe me. But he was quite insistent. Perhaps now you can tell us why?"
Tessa glanced up at Anthony, who was grinning. "I thought Tessa might enjoy the challenge. Though of course, my dear, if you think he will be beyond you, we can find another mount —one of your choosing."
"I should think so," Quinn declared. "This brute isn't—"
"I'll try him," Tessa interrupted her, glancing back at the gelding, whose ears pricked forward at the sound of her voice. "He is already saddled, after all."
Quinn stared at her, openmouthed, then turned on her husband. "And how did you even manage to get that sidesaddle on him?" she demanded. "I know just how bad-tempered that horse is, Marcus —not that it's his fault. He was badly mistreated by his previous owner," she explained to Tessa.
"It did take two grooms and a stable lad to saddle him," Lord Marcus confessed. "Really, Anthony, I must insist—"
But Anthony shook his head. "It's Tessa's decision."
"Tessa, you mustn't," Quinn pleaded. "His mouth is like leather and he's a biter, as well as a kicker. I know Anthony says you're a remarkable rider, but this horse could do you a serious injury —and I'd never forgive myself if that happened."
"You can trust Quinn," Marcus said, "for she's an exceptional rider herself —but even she wouldn't try to sit this brute."
Tessa kept her eyes on the gelding, gauging his mood, examining his lines. He would be fast, she thought, though probably not smooth-gaited. "I appreciate your concern," she said. "Truly. But I'd like to try my hand at him."
Quinn tried to protest again, but Marcus shook his head and she stopped, though she still looked extremely worried. "Let's get mounted ourselves," he suggested. "Anthony, you're riding Mephisto, I presume. Peter, Sarah, a groom has your horses down there, at the end."
While the others were occupied mounting their own horses, Tessa moved toward the skewbald gelding. "There, now, you funny looking beast, you're not so bad as all that, are you?" she asked in her special singsong lilt. "You'd enjoy a bit of exercise in the Park, wouldn't you?"
He was nowhere so testy as Nimbus had been, much less Vulcan, and in less than a minute was willing to let her place a hand on the side of his long neck. She stroked him, still talking, and he nodded his head, his ears now in a relaxed, forward position.
"There," she said to the open-mouthed groom. "You can lead him out, now."
Still gaping, the man complied and Tessa walked alongside the gelding, one hand on his flank. They joined the others, who were already mounted. Quinn's mare, Tessa noted with approval, was both pretty and spirited, while Sarah sat on the most placid little gelding Tessa had ever seen —though she still looked rather nervous.
They turned to watch as the groom tossed Tessa into the sidesaddle, all but Anthony staring in amazement. The gelding sidestepped, but quieted at once with a soft word from Tessa.
"I don't believe it," Quinn breathed. "How on earth—?"
Lord Peter shook his head. "It appears you weren't bamming us, Anthony. She really does have the touch."
Though gratified by their evident admiration, Tessa felt suddenly embarrassed. "Shall we go?" she suggested.
With lingering, disbelieving glances from the others, they set out for Hyde Park. Tessa was careful to keep her mount well away from Sarah's so as not to make her inexperienced sister-in-law any more nervous, but Quinn had no qualms about bringing her mare alongside the skewbald.
"Anthony told Marcus you had an almost magical touch with difficult horses, but I confess I credited it to the besottedness of a new husband," she said. "I see now that I was mistaken. But how did you become so skilled?"
As they rode through the crowded streets of Mayfair, Tessa explained about her mother and her own gift with horses. "So I can't exactly take credit for it," she concluded, "any more than I can take credit for my eye color."
"But you can take credit for the use to which you've put that gift," Quinn said. "Someone blessed with a head for numbers can choose to use it to make a business successful, or to falsify account books for his own profit. I can see that this horse is happier already with you riding him."
Tessa smiled, but Quinn's analogy troubled her, for she had used her gift for profit —and not necessarily in the most honest way possible. She would never do so again, of course, but other than making dumb beasts more comfortable, what real good had ever come from her ability?
They found Hyde Park nearly as congested as the London streets, so many people were taking advantage of the rare good weather. Anthony explained to Tessa that during the Season one could scarcely move along the paths, particularly at the fashionable hour of five o'clock. Now, of course, people tended to congregate earlier, as the days were shorter —and colder.
It was frustrating to keep to a decorous hand canter when her mount so clearly needed a good gallop, but Tessa realized that she was drawing enough attention already from the fashionable throng. Heads turned as she passed and she heard snatches of conversation.
Some comments were complimentary. "—excellent seat," was a phrase she heard more than once, mainly from gentlemen.
But more than one feminine titter of laughter followed her progress, along with comments like, "ugly horse," and "hopelessly outmoded habit."
She hoped Anthony wasn't noticing, for he'd been both kind and perceptive to realize she needed the challenge of this mount to snap her out of the doldrums. Still, she couldn't help worrying that her appearance —in her old habit, on this odd-looking horse— would r
eflect poorly on him in the eyes of Society.
They had completed two circuits of the Park —or, more accurately, Tessa, Quinn and their husbands had, while Peter and Sarah completed one, much slower circuit —and were preparing to head back to Grosvenor Square when Tessa saw Lady Adelaide driving toward them in a smart yellow phaeton.
"Why, Lord Anthony," she exclaimed. "What a surprise to see you in Town at this season. Was the hunting so poor this year?" Her eyes flicked toward Tessa and then away.
He bowed from the saddle, a certain tightness about his lips. "Not at all, Lady Adelaide. I merely wished to bring my wife to London for a few days. I believe you have already met?"
She looked startled for a moment, as though surprised Tessa would have told him of their earlier meeting, but then flashed a brilliant smile. "Of course. I already expressed my congratulations to Lady Anthony, and now I can convey the same to you. Your new bride appears to be quite an . . . original."
Tessa could not help flushing at the woman's tone, which was anything but complimentary, as her haughty eye swept over Tessa's mount and attire. Anthony, however, responded without hesitation.
"She is indeed, Lady Adelaide. Not only original, but quite superior to any other lady of my acquaintance, I assure you. No doubt you—and the rest of Society —will agree, once you come to know her."
His words warmed Tessa, but there was a dangerous glitter in the other woman's eye. "Indeed?" Her voice was now rather shrill. "Well, we shall see, shall we not? Good day, Lord Anthony." With a sharp word to her driver, she continued on her way.
"Poisonous woman!" Quinn exclaimed. "Honestly, Anthony, I can't imagine what you ever saw in her."
"Nor can I," he said with a grimace, but Tessa felt chilled again. Clearly there had been something between Anthony and Lady Adelaide at one time, despite his earlier assurances.
"You won't let her jealousy bother you, will you, Tessa?" Lord Peter asked, riding up then. "For that's all it is, you know. Both Quinn and Sarah have had to endure backbiting from the London tabbies, but they've both survived it—and come out the stronger for it. I'm convinced you'll do the same."
