by Regina Scott
He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. “I think you know my feelings toward the lady have changed since meeting you.”
Why did he persist? Having no battlefield on which to compete, must he now capture hearts instead of citadels?
“And I think you know, sir,” Amelia said firmly, “that I want nothing more than a friendship.”
He released her hand. “Alas, I feared as much. Will you do me the honor of walking with me to my horse? It would assure me that we part as friends.”
She could not count herself a good hostess and refuse. “Certainly, sir.” She accepted the arm he offered and allowed him to escort her out to the stable yard.
Grooms and footmen scurried about, lugging trunks, leading horses to training and pasture. Magnum tossed his head at her as he passed. Major Kensington paused on the steps as if savoring the view, then he turned to Amelia.
“Forgive me, Lady Hascot,” he said. “I am a man used to being under command, and I have orders to secure three of your husband’s horses. If reason won’t persuade him, perhaps the threat of scandal will.”
Before Amelia knew what he was about, he’d taken her in his arms and lowered his face toward hers. He was going to kiss her, right in front of everyone! They’d all think she’d betrayed John. And the major thought she’d be too meek to resist!
He thought wrong.
“Stop this instant!” she ordered, shoving him back and turning her face away.
Kensington hesitated, then his arms tightened. “Help me in this,” he murmured against her ear, “and you won’t be sorry.”
She was sorry already, that she’d ever laid eyes on the man! Worse, across the stable yard, she saw trouble coming. Magnum whipped his head about, yanking his lead out of the groom’s hand. Then he turned to thunder toward her, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed, as if he knew he had her at his mercy at last.
* * *
John strode through the stable, where he’d demanded that Major Kensington’s horse be made ready. He couldn’t believe the pleasure he’d felt a few moments ago at the sight of the equipages, both Caro’s and Lord Wesworth’s, being loaded. In less than an hour, he’d have his horses and his home to himself once more.
And he and Amelia could look to the future.
Her confession of love last night still humbled him. He had done nothing, in his mind, to merit it, yet he felt as if he’d do anything to keep it. He was bound to her in a dozen ways, yet he’d never felt more free.
He’d folded his carefully worded note from last night and left it on the desk in the library. He wasn’t certain when he would find the right opportunity to give it to her, but the thought of how she might respond left him feeling as if he’d walked through a patch of thorny thistle.
Caro was waiting just inside the main stable door. Her black travel dress and veiled top hat were severe, as if his refusal had plunged her once more into mourning. Seeing him, she advanced down the aisle, head high and beaded reticule swinging from one arm, bringing the cloying scent of roses with her.
“There,” she said, stopping him. “I am leaving, just as you asked.”
John inclined his head. “A wise choice.”
“So you insist.” She sighed. “Is this really necessary, John? Can we not be friends?”
“You are the one who cannot leave it be,” he replied. “If that changes someday, you will be welcomed back.”
Her smile trembled around the edges, as if he’d given her hope. “Please, tell me this visit hasn’t diminished your affections for me.” She tilted her face, once more offering her cheek for his kiss.
Would she never learn? “I have no affections for you, Caro,” John said. “You are my brother’s wife. I owe you only support.”
Her smile tightened as she straightened. “How kind. As a member of your family, allow me to support you in turn.” She leaned closer. “Watch out for Amelia, John. I have reason to believe she and her father are conspiring against you.”
She pulled back and eyed him, clearly waiting for his response.
“You are mistaken,” John said. “In a great many things. Goodbye, Caro.”
She raised her chin and marched out the door.
Why had he ever been enamored of her? She would do anything, say anything to achieve her own ends. Was it fear of privation, of losing her place on the ton, that drove her? Or was she merely so headstrong she could see no other way but her own? Regardless, he was thankful he’d never had a chance to propose.
Instead, he’d married Amelia. Sweet, kind, beautiful Amelia.
She made his life better, encouraged him to be the best, supported his convictions, shared his dreams. And because of her gift, there was nothing he would not do for her.
Thank You, Father. The prayer came easily this time. I didn’t know what to say to reach her heart, but You knew. You prepared the way for me, and I will be forever grateful.
John stepped out of the stables into the sunlight and had the oddest sensation that the world had frozen. The footmen were standing, trunk halfway into the baggage wagon. Grooms stared at the house rather than the horses.
On the steps leading to the rear door, Amelia was in Major Kensington’s embrace, and Magnum was rearing over her, hooves flashing.
John ran.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Magnum, down!” Amelia commanded, and the stallion’s hooves came crashing down on Major Kensington’s shoulder. The hero of Waterloo crumpled onto the steps, even as Magnum bowed over him, blowing a breath of warning in his face.
Amelia put out a hand and touched the black on the shoulder. “Easy, now. It’s all right. I’m safe.”
The groom who had been leading the stallion arrived at her side only a moment before John did. She expected her husband to reach for the horse first, but he leaped onto the steps and took her in his arms.
“Tell me you are unhurt,” he demanded.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just a little shaken. Major Kensington tried to kiss me, John, to cause a scandal, he said. And he might have succeeded against my best efforts if Magnum hadn’t defended me.”
John kept Amelia close with one arm while reaching out to pat the black with his other hand. “Well done, my lad. You finally realized where Amelia stands in the herd.” His embrace tightened. “At my side.” He nodded to the groom, who managed to lead the stallion away.
Below them, Major Kensington groaned even as Dr. Fletcher pushed his way through the waiting servants, Caro right behind him.
“What happened?” the veterinarian asked.
“Davy!” Caro cried, rushing to the major’s side and cradling his head against her. “That vicious brute of a horse! Speak to me! Are you injured?”
The cavalry officer’s uniform was torn across the shoulder, and his manly bearing had become decidedly crooked as one arm hung limp beside him. The dazed look on his face told Amelia he wasn’t sure what had just happened.
“See what you can do for him,” John told Dr. Fletcher. “And if it involves bleeding, so much the better.”
The veterinarian frowned, but he hurried forward to check on the major while Caro stood by, wringing her hands. Ordering a footman’s help, Dr. Fletcher brought Kensington into the house.
“What happens now?” Amelia murmured to John as they brought up the rear of the procession. Just having her husband near made her erratic pulse slow, her breath come more evenly. Small wonder he was so good with the horses!
“I hope Fletcher can bring him around swiftly,” John replied, “if for no other reason than I’d like to knock him down again.”
“I’m more interested in what he can tell us,” Amelia replied, stopping John just short of the door to the library, where Dr. Fletcher had the major sit on the chair, with Caro perched opposite. “He said he w
as under orders, John. He and his master seemed to think that kissing me would cause a scandal and coerce you into selling your horses. I don’t understand.”
“I do.” His face was grim again. “I may not recognize certain actions, but I know betrayal when I see it. Kensington could have put it about you wanted his attention. Anyone knowing you would be unlikely to believe it without proof. He gambled on servants talking.”
Amelia shuddered. “And Caro knew about why we married. Apparently it’s the talk of London.”
John shook his head. “All the more reason for people to accept I wasn’t a devoted husband. Kensington would have given me a choice—continue to see your name blackened, myself made a fool, or exchange my horses for his efforts to protect your reputation.” He frowned suddenly.
“What is it?” Amelia asked.
“The pattern reminds me of another situation,” he said. “Don’t be concerned. I’ll deal with it.”
“My lord?” Dr. Fletcher called, and Amelia saw that Major Kensington appeared to have recovered his wits, for he touched the side of his shoulder and winced.
“You, Lady Hascot,” he said as John and Amelia moved to Fletcher’s side, “have a wicked right.”
John broke from Amelia and hauled the major to his feet. “You haven’t felt mine.”
Kensington didn’t flinch. “Go ahead. I won’t fight you.”
“Why?” Amelia demanded, taking a step closer. “You were quite willing to fight me.”
Caro hopped to her feet. “What is all this about? You make it sound as if Major Kensington is the villain when I assure you he is the victim.” She shook her finger at John. “You should have that brute of a horse put down, John. He cannot be controlled!”
“Caro,” John said, “return to your coach. Now.”
She stiffened. “Well, I like that! You, sir, will beg my forgiveness before I speak to you again.” She raised her chin and stalked from the room.
John’s crystal focus was narrowed on the major. “Who put you up to this?” he demanded.
Major Kensington glanced at Amelia, then back at John. “Might we keep this conversation between gentlemen?”
“How?” Amelia said, hands on her hips. “Only one of you is a gentleman!”
John pushed him toward Dr. Fletcher, who caught the major and kept him from falling. “Bind his wound and lock him in the cellar,” John ordered.
Dr. Fletcher eyed the major, who was easily a stone heavier in muscle. Just then, Mr. Hennessy, who had at least two stones on either of them, stepped into the room, and the veterinarian smiled.
“How long shall we hold him?” he asked John, beckoning to the butler.
“Until I am satisfied I have answers.” John moved toward the doorway. “There are others I must question.”
Amelia waited for Major Kensington to protest Caro’s innocence, but he looked away and submitted himself to the butler’s less-than-gentle ministrations.
She hurried after John. “Let me come with you.”
He stopped in the doorway and looked her in the eyes. His dark gaze was once more solemn, the planes of his face sharp enough to cause damage.
“I’ll have Mr. Hennessy send you Turner and Reams,” he said. “Stay here and lock yourselves in.”
Amelia raised her brows. “Do you expect a siege?”
“I don’t know what to expect,” he said. “But I won’t allow you to come to harm. Open the door only to me, Mr. Hennessy or the doctor.”
She would have thought she was a queen in enemy territory, or one of his horses being made safe in a boxed stall. “Surely this isn’t necessary.”
“Perhaps not,” John said. “But until I am satisfied I have an answer, I will take no more chances.”
* * *
John found Caro waiting impatiently, pacing back and forth beside the carriage, the passing of her skirts raising a dust. Seemingly oblivious to the scene that had just been enacted, Lord Wesworth had already climbed inside his own carriage, and a groom was folding up the step in preparation for closing the door.
John moved to stop him, motioning Caro over with one hand.
“Major Kensington is a dastard,” he pronounced when he thought he had both of their attentions. “He attempted to make me believe he was having an affair with Amelia. I want to know which of you put him up to it.”
Caro put her hands on her hips. “And how can you be so quick to put the blame on him? He can be quite charming, unlike other men I know.”
“Lord Hascot has no understanding of how things are done in Society,” Amelia’s father said to her. “Or he would not presume to speak this way to either of us.”
“Society.” John shook his head. “You cannot use that excuse this time. Whatever Society appears to condone, I know Amelia would never betray me.”
Caro dropped her arms and shut her mouth.
“Amelia is nothing if not loyal,” Lord Wesworth agreed. “You will remember, however, that I warned you she would feel the consequences of your decision not to sell your horses.”
“And I trust you remember my warning, John,” Caro added quietly with a nod toward Amelia’s father.
“Warning?” Lord Wesworth replied. “Yes, I warrant a warning is needed. Amelia is an innocent, whereas you, Lady Hascot, have a history of manipulation.”
“How dare you!” Caro started, chin going up in defense.
“How dare you, madam?” Lord Wesworth countered. “It is clear to me, as it should be clear to Lord Hascot, that you came here intending to poison his relationship with my daughter.”
“That is not the point,” John argued, but Caro would not be silenced.
She glared at the marquess. “And if I did, it was only at the instigation of someone much higher and more powerful.”
“Who?” John demanded, turning on her.
The marquess was not willing to wait for her answer. “And why would you need encouragement to do what you do best? Remind me, how did you convince your husband to marry you when you were all but engaged to his brother, here?”
Now John found he could not intervene as Caro glowered at Amelia’s father.
“Do not imagine you know my feelings on the matter, my lord,” she told him. “You have never faced privation.”
Privation? There had been rumors her father was a profligate, but John had never paid them any mind. And he still could not fault her for being swayed by the promise of the title and all that went with it.
“My imagination is not nearly so vivid,” the marquess returned, yet he was watching John, not Caro. “But I believe Lord Hascot’s is. Can you see her for her true self, my lord? Devious until the very end.”
John waited for Caro to rail at the marquess, to deny his sneered allegations. Instead, she blanched and took a step back, fingers clutching her reticule. She was backing down, running from fear. And what did she fear?
Only the truth.
“Was it a lie, Caro?” he murmured. “Did you care nothing for me?”
She glanced between the marquess and him, biting her lip.
“You see?” the marquess said. “She will not even defend herself.”
“Neither would your daughter, sir,” she cried, “and look how ill you used her!”
He stiffened, but she rushed up to John. “It was him, John. You have to see that. Yes, I used you to make your brother jealous. Yes, I wanted the security of the title. But I would never order someone to trifle with Amelia! Never!”
How could he believe her? She had set brother against brother, and their rivalry had done the rest. Even now she played on his emotions like a master harper. The woman he thought he’d once loved was a fiction.
But the woman who had won his heart and given him hers was waiting in the house, and she deserved answers.
&
nbsp; “Why are you really here, Caro?” John asked. “And no lies this time.”
She glanced at Lord Wesworth and clasped her hands before her as if pleading with John to see her side of it.
“I went through James’s estate too quickly,” she admitted. “There is a cost to remaining at the top of Society, you know. Mr. Carstairs, the solicitor, refused to simply advance me the funds, and as you had recently married without even introducing me to your bride, I wasn’t sanguine about my chances of getting more from you. Major Kensington mentioned he knew someone who would pay a pretty penny for a Hascot horse and even reward the person who made it possible. So we came north.”
She drew herself up. “But it was only after we reached here that I learned it was Lord Wesworth who put him up to it!”
“Another lie,” Wesworth said. “See how easily they roll off her tongue.”
“And yours,” John said.
The marquess frowned, but John turned to Caro.
“We are finished. I will stand by my note to Carstairs, Caro, but you will have to learn to live within your means. I will not receive you at Hollyoak Farm again.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Yes, John.”
He was no longer willing to be swayed by the pathetic look. “If you ever attempt anything like this again, Caro, I will have you put on a very short lead. Do you understand?”
She merely nodded. John pointed her to her carriage, and she went without a backward look.
“While I applaud your actions,” Lord Wesworth said in the silence that followed, “they do not solve the problem. Your insistence on a childish code of honor put Amelia’s reputation at risk. If you cannot protect her, you give me no choice but to take her home with me.”
Did he really think Amelia would stand for that? John certainly wouldn’t.
“Like my horses, you appear to be a creature of habit, my lord,” John replied. “I fear that gambit won’t work on me again.”
“What are you talking about?” the marquess demanded.
“When I originally declined to join your family with mine,” John explained, “you changed my mind by reminding me that Amelia would be the one hurt if I refused. Major Kensington tried a similar approach, but he claimed it was his master’s idea. Now you use the same tactic.”
