Charity? May was far too proud to accept charity.
“Lady Iona and I are friends, my lord.” Since no one else was going to defend her, May determined she would simply defend herself. “Lord Nathan had suggested I join the group, explaining how you are so very adept at judging horseflesh. He wished I be impressed by your great knowledge, I suppose.”
The corner of Radford’s mouth twitched. Whatever was going on in his head couldn’t be good. He dipped an exaggerated bow. “A thousand pardons, ma’am,” he said. “Please forgive me for overlooking you. I suppose I am doomed to fall prey to all sorts of humiliations today.”
With that said, Radford strolled from the room, leading the way to a large empty field beside his house. May lagged behind, hoping to remain in the parlor, until she noticed his mother also planned to remain there. Lady Evers stretched out like a treacherous tiger on the velvet sofa.
“Don’t be anxious.” Iona took May’s arm and pushed her outside.
“But horses are such large animals . . .” May said.
“You are frightened?” Radford asked. He lazily leaned against one of the portico’s Ionic columns while Iona and May emerged.
May’s heart skipped a beat. She fought a fresh attack of embarrassment, realizing he had overheard her put voice to her silly fears. She was the only lady she knew who didn’t have a rudimentary knowledge of riding or horses. Having been raised in London with an aunt who shared May’s unhealthy fear of the beasts, May hadn’t been given much of an opportunity to learn how to even approach a horse—much less sit atop one.
“I have no experience, my lord,” she said somewhat stiffly. “I don’t know what to do with them.”
He chuckled. “I will hold your hand, Miss Sheffers, and guide you so you can pet her velvet nose.” He took May’s arm from Iona’s then and walked between the women out to the field. A man in a tweed cap and baggy breeches stood holding the reins to a very tall cream-colored horse with a brown dappled rump. The filly tossed her dark brown mane and danced sideways as they approached.
May would much have preferred to try and pet Lady Evers’ perfect nose than tempt one’s fate with the foul tempered beast looming in front of her. What could Radford be thinking suggesting she dare touch such a wild thing?
“Ooooo,” Lady Lillian sighed. The filly danced sideways again. “She is ever so lovely, is she not? May I ride her? She must glide like the wind. Does she, Lord Evers?” She pushed her sister out of the way and latched onto the arm Radford had used to hold his cane, tugging on him as if he were a child’s wooden pull toy. “Does she ride like the wind?”
Radford stiffened. May felt the very air about him grow still. How thoughtless of Lillian to ask such a question. His injuries had obviously kept him from riding. A condition that surely created deep wounds in his pride.
“She will go well enough,” he said after a lengthy pause. He shrugged away the tension and his eyes lit up as he studied his beast. “She is a beauty, Lyles. Her legs look strong. Perhaps we should enter her in the races.”
“Aye, m’lord, I believe so. She has the frame for speed,” Radford’s stable manager drawled. He smiled, a wide grin showing a line of missing teeth. “She’s a beaut, m’lord, jus’ like her pa’.”
The filly tossed her head as if agreeing.
“She wants to run,” Radford said.
“Aye, my gig’s horse trotted far too slowly for Princess’ liking.”
“Princess? Is that her name?” Lillian asked, her soft voice growing ever milder. Her expression sparkled as she gazed up at Radford. “How delightful. Oh, how I would love to own such a horse.”
May fully expected him to promise Lillian the filly as a wedding present, or at least hint that he might do something so foolishly romantic. He shocked May when he ignored the comment.
Instead, his gaze turned sharply away from Lillian and toward her. “Princess will be part of my foundation stock. I may race her, but she will principally be a breeding mare.”
“Lord Evers, you are scandalous. You make me blush,” Lillian said and batted his arm.
May found herself blushing as well because Radford had begun to trace tiny circles on the inside of her wrist with his forefinger. He probably didn’t realize he was doing so, but there was a hint of heat in his gaze that made her suddenly suspicious.
No, she was being foolish again. He had baldly told her that there could never be anything between them. That he wouldn’t even ask her to be his mistress.
By the time May pulled herself out of her thoughts, Radford had released her arm and returned his attentions to Lillian. He fawned over the young lady in a way no one, not even May’s aunt, had ever done with her. She needed to be careful. There was nothing but pain waiting for her if she allowed her fantasies to run away with her again.
No man wanted her.
Well, Mr. Tumblestone did—but May still couldn’t figure out why.
Lord Nathan, Iona, and Lillian were all speaking at once, praising the horse, while standing far closer to the beast than what May thought could possibly be safe. The filly stomped her heavy foot as if angered by their presence and kicked up a spray of mud that splattered on May’s cotton dress. No one noticed the stain or May’s growing distress.
She retrieved a handkerchief from her sleeve and patted at the mud. It was hopeless, she knew. She would be mud-splattered until she could change out of the gown.
Radford didn’t spare her a passing glance once he’d pried his arm from Lillian’s clutches and stepped away from his friend’s praises to speak with his stable manager.
Lillian didn’t seem to notice him missing. She chattered on as if he were still standing between herself and May. “Papa will absolutely be thrilled to hear how skilled you are at judging horseflesh, Lord Evers. The last two horses he purchased came up lame within a month. He has no eye for such things, you must know. I will tell him first thing . . .”
One of the ostrich plumes on Lillian’s bonnet dipped forward and teased the filly’s nose as she continued to explain how she dearly wished her father could see Princess. Her head bobbed with her words, and the feather continued to strike the young horse. May watched as the skittish filly’s eyes began to roll.
Something bad was going to happen. May could feel it in the way her heart began to pound. The filly was going to bolt and stamp them all to death. Poor, poor Radford. He would never forgive himself if his prize horse were to injure his beloved Lillian.
Princess whinnied and ducked her head, as if trying to escape the brightly dyed feather. She stomped her foot and whinnied again when the troublesome feather seemed to follow her.
“She’s a spirited one, she is, m’lord,” the stable manager drawled and pulled the leading rein tighter.
“She is a pretty horse,” Iona said. “Just look at the unusual coloring.”
“You’ve done well this time, Evers,” Lord Nathan said. “All your hard work at the stables is beginning to pay off.”
No one other than May sensed even a whiff of danger. Lillian’s feathered bonnet continued to bob and torment the horse, her speech continuing without pause.
Such a great beast, May couldn’t help but think. She shall kill us.
She fought the urge to escape to a safe distance away. But she was never one to cower. If the others weren’t afraid, she wouldn’t show her budding terror . . . even if it meant risking her neck in order to protect her pride.
Oh what a foolish sin, pride. May had noticed more than ever how such a stubborn emotion could be the cause of some quite unnecessary troubles.
The filly snorted after the feather danced in her nostril. She tossed back her head, reared up, and made a horrid sound.
Everyone froze. Even Lillian closed her mouth long enough to send the filly a wary glance.
“I say, my lord,” she then said rather shrilly. “I have never seen—”
Whatever Lillian hadn’t seen, no one would know. Princess landed with a thud and nipped the bonnet right off
Lillian’s head. Lillian shrieked and tossed herself into Lord Nathan’s arms. Both Radford and the stable manager struggled with the reins, trying to calm the great beast. As she strained forward, her large, square teeth showing, she looked as if she was going to nip off a hunk of Lillian’s thick blond locks.
Without much thought for her own safety, May snatched the offending bonnet from the ground and leapt between Lillian and Princess. “Here is your enemy,” she said in a firm voice and pushed the bright bonnet into the filly’s mouth. It was the hat, not Lillian, that had offended.
Princess took the bonnet and shook it to bits while the stable manager used sheer strength to drag her a goodly distance away.
May stood frozen, her eyes tightly sealed now that the immediate danger had passed, and listened to the commotion all around her. Lillian whimpered while Lord Nathan and Iona tried in vain to sooth her.
“There now, that was a damned brave thing,” Radford said.
May’s heart skipped at the sound of his voice. He’d come to praise her for her quick thinking. She peeled open one eye and then the other.
The breadth of her gaze was empty.
Radford had bypassed her completely and taken the trembling Lillian into his arms. “I should expect any gentle lady to be frightened out of her wits after such an experience. Horses are so large, are they not? Their grand size must be offputting to women, especially those as dainty as yourself. You were so very brave, my lovely Lillian.”
Lillian clutched Radford’s coat and sobbed into his cravat.
“You seem shaken yourself, Miss Sheffers.” At least Lord Nathan had the decency to remember her valiant effort to save Lillian’s precious hair. “If you desire, you too may sob into my cravat and ruin it.” The smile he flashed was contagious.
“No thank you, my lord.” She gave a mock curtsy. “I believe I will endure.” Though his joking settled her discordant nerves, it did nothing to relieve the jealousy bubbling through her veins. It literally pained her to see Radford petting Lillian’s undamaged hair.
The emotional twit was unworthy of him. He should have set his cap for Iona, a much finer cut of womanhood. Surely May wouldn’t be plagued with a jealous heart if she were watching him seduce her friend, instead.
You are such a liar.
No one, not even her closest friend, could prove suitable for Radford. Budding romantic affection was turning out to be an illogical affliction. May hated the loss of control.
“My, Miss Sheffers, who has trampled on your grave?” Lord Nathan asked. “You look as angry as Princess did just moments ago. I won’t need to guard my hat from your gnashing teeth, will I?”
May smiled weakly and wandered off to sit on a bench set out under a smooth barked beech tree. Watching from a distance did help a little.
Radford was still petting and cooing over Lillian. Despite May’s efforts to close her mind, she could still hear everything said. Every word etched itself into her memory.
“Did you see what she did to my bonnet?” Lillian wailed. “That horrid, horrid girl fed my bonnet to your evil tempered horse. Her jealousy of me has always caused problems. And now she nearly got me killed.”
“I don’t think Princess’ behavior was May’s fault,” Lord Nathan drawled lazily. He looked oddly pleased with himself.
“You must have startled her, sweet,” Radford said in a voice smooth enough to sooth a colicky baby. He rubbed his hand up and down the length of Lillian’s arched back. May shivered from just witnessing such an intimate gesture. If his gentle hands were touching her back in that very same manner and if those words had been for her, she would be melting into a puddle of bliss.
Lillian didn’t melt. She twisted free, her cheeks blooming a bright red.
“You think I startled her?”
Radford tried to enfold her into his arms again. “Let me carry you inside. You can rest on the sofa and sip some warm tea while you compose yourself.”
Lillian punched his shoulders until he released her. “I want to go home,” Lillian shouted. Tears streamed down her pretty pink cheeks. “Just look what that evil tempered beast did to my new bonnet. Just look!” The straw bonnet lay scattered in shreds on the muddy ground. “How dare you blame me! I shall never forgive the monster. You will just have to sell her, my lord, or I shall never forgive you!”
She was fast becoming hysterical, her voice growing ever more shrill. Both Iona and May knew the warning signs only too well. The last time they had witnessed such a scene was three years ago after the duke had purchased several yards of shimmering exotic silks for Iona’s eldest sister and had refused to buy Lillian an equally expensive bolt.
“I think we should get her home,” Iona said quietly. “Thank you for your assistance, Lord Evers.”
He gave a curt nod and wrung his hands. “Of course.”
“I will walk the ladies Lillian and Iona home.” Lord Nathan gave a meaningful glance in May’s direction. “Perhaps you might wish to sooth Miss Sheffers? She, too, suffered a fright.”
One of Radford’s raven brows quirked up. “Indeed?” he asked and turned her way. “Have you suffered terribly, Miss Sheffers?” he called.
May rose from the bench, made as graceful a path as possible through the tall grasses, and rejoined the group. Her pride interfered with what her heart wanted to say. Interfered with her longing to bury herself in his soiled cravat and enjoy his closeness. “Of course not, my lord,” she said, her chin jutting in the air. “Lord Nathan is jesting at my expense.”
“Then you shall stay with the viscount and pet the filly’s nose?” Iona asked.
“And I will hold your hand,” Radford said before May could protest.
“What about me?” Lillian wailed.
Iona took her sister in her arm and led her to the bench May had been using. “You need to stop your sniffling. I will not walk through Bath with you in such a state. Tongues would wag for weeks.”
“She is in a temper,” Radford said as he assessed his new filly with a frown. The beast was still stomping the ground with her hoof and pulling on the reins. “I can’t imagine why. Perhaps we should keep our distance for now.”
May released a healthy sigh and thanked the heavens for the reprieve. “Another time, then?”
“Yes, another time.”
There would never be another time, of course. May and Radford could never be close, could never be friends. Not when her heart ached just from standing near him.
He touched her hand. The simple act stole her breath.
Five minutes later, May, Iona, and Lord Nathan led a much calmer Lillian from the field. May gave Radford a wave farewell that went unreturned. His attentions were on his horse, a frown shadowing his aristocratic features.
They were partway down Sion Hill when a great shout went out. A clamor of hooves beat a path adjacent to the road. May was the first to see her. The filly, pretty as her royal namesake, ran toward them, her reins fluttering unattended behind her. There was a primal beauty in her movement.
May stood transfixed as the powerful animal leapt over a wooden fence and landed not a yard away from her. Lillian screeched. Iona called a warning. The great horse seemed madly intent on getting at May, and she could have no hope of outrunning such an agile creature.
All she could do was hold her ground, close her eyes, and hope for the best as the thunder of hooves grew ever louder.
She had no great desire to die but could see no opportunity for escape. May kept her eyes tightly sealed and waited to be trampled to death.
A great velvety nose nudged her brow. May forced open her eyes and peered into Princess’ long face. The horse’s hot breath swirled all around her.
“You’re not going to hurt me?” May said with a bravado that had to be dredged up from her deepest depths. She spoke in the same quiet, refined manner Iona took whenever she grew agitated. The ploy worked. Princess nudged May’s shoulder and whinnied softly.
The leather reins hung at May’s feet. It was a s
imple task of taking them up and walking back up the road toward Radford’s Longbranch House. Princess followed like a motherless pup. It was a rather endearing experience.
The stable manager ran down the hill, followed by Radford, his lame leg practically dragging behind him. May winced at the pain he must be feeling. But he didn’t let the injury slow him. He passed the manager and stopped, breathing heavily, a few feet from May.
“Are you harmed? As soon as you went out of view, she bolted. I was terrified . . . she was running after Lady Lillian, perhaps. Thank goodness you stopped her,” he said while still trying to catch his breath. He looked pale, ill.
“Lady Lillian is unharmed, my lord,” May assured him. She worried at his wan complexion. He had overexerted himself, but she knew better than to inquire after his health.
His pride rivaled her own.
“She is half in love with Miss Sheffers, Evers,” Lord Nathan said. He had to pry Lillian off his arm to take a step toward them. “The filly ran straight to her and gave her a friendly nudge.”
Radford gave May a queer look then. He frowned and tilted his head, staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. May looked back, her insides trembling. Though she didn’t fully understand why, that timeless moment between them was yards more sensual than their first kiss.
A smile came naturally to her lips as she handed over the leading reins to him. “Good day, my lord.” Her voice sounded soft and husky. “I thank you for a lovely afternoon.”
Radford captured her hand before she could slip away and raised her knuckles to his lips. “My pleasure.”
A wealth of fantasies sprang into May’s fertile mind in reaction to those two simple words. My pleasure.
She prayed for a long, uninterrupted night of sleep.
Oh la, the dreams she planned to have . . .
My pleasure, he’d said.
Chapter 10
“You will simply have to sell the beast.” Lady Evers had risen from her lounge and strolled across the room. Her gown’s fabric billowed around her, reminding Radford of a feather helplessly caught in the hot summer wind. “I shiver at the thought of your Lady Lillian suffering such a fright. You must make immediate amends. Send her a household full of flowers. Purchase a lovely bonnet to replace the one your horse ruined. Pay her a visit to assure her of your concern . . . but first, get rid of the beast!”
The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection Page 9
