“Oh, miss, this is such a lovely gown.” Bessie’s eyes lit up when Suzanna pointed out the gown she’d chosen to wear for dinner. The pale blue frock, shot through with silver, was one of her favorites. The neckline dipped a bit for interest but was still modest. A large deeper color blue satin ribbon circled the gown high on the waist. Light muslin capped sleeves covered the top of her arms.
“Thank you, Bessie. You’ve done a wonderful job of removing any wrinkles from the journey. I’ll wear my silver slippers and white gloves. Do you think you could do something different with my hair?”
She tried to tell herself she was not interested in catching the attention of that arrogant Mr. Templeton, but merely wanted to present herself well so she might bring an end to the Season by capturing a man of whom Father and Mother would approve.
A titled man to suit her parents and someone she could tolerate in her home—and bed—for the rest of her life. The last part had her shuddering. Until now the only man who’d made her heart thump was unacceptable.
Be a grown-up. You don’t need a husband who makes your heart thump. You need someone kind and considerate, who will hold you in his affection. Hopefully, he would not turn out to be a philanderer or spend his time at the gaming tables. If he kept a mistress, one hoped he would be discreet enough that she would not have to listen to gossip. Or watch as he allowed bored matrons to drape themselves all over him at events.
And of course, there would be children to pour one’s love into, if a husband did not appeal in that way. Suddenly depressed, she stood so Bessie could help her dress.
Suzanna loved her parents, truly she did, but she also resented that their desires should be a burden placed upon her shoulders.
What of me? Don’t I get to have what I want in a marriage?
Once she was gowned and coiffed, she pulled on her gloves and jewelry, then viewed herself in the mirror. Yes, she certainly looked like a woman who could turn the head of a man her parents considered suitable. Raising her chin, determined to do what was expected and stop her internal wailing at her fate, she left the bedchamber. She headed down one flight of stairs to the drawing room where the sound of conversation drew her.
About fifteen people had arrived before her, standing in clusters, sipping on glasses of sherry and brandy. She was pleased to see Lady Montford had already joined a group of ladies, and Lord Montford seemed to be engaged in a deep conversation with Lord Schneider.
Suzanna was about five steps from Lady Montford when a warm hand covered her elbow. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Mr. Templeton. The air around her seemed to crackle; his already familiar scent of bergamot drifted toward her. She took in a deep breath and turned.
Oh great goodness, was it possible the man had grown more handsome since their meal at the Bear and Beaver Inn? He was dressed in all black except for a pure white cravat and a white silk waistcoat. Loose curls had escaped his combed-back chestnut brown hair to rest on his forehead, only a few inches from his light brown eyes with flecks of gold. Eyes that watched her with hunger.
His warm, rakish smile set her stomach fluttering and her heart thumping—again. Exactly what I don’t need. The tips of her nipples tingled, and she had this ridiculous urge to rub them against his chest. Why did her body react in such a way to this man?
This would not do. She was supposed to be discouraging his suit, and instead she must look like a besotted idiot. She tried regaining her dignity and controlling her body by taking another deep breath. Based on the heat in his eyes when he viewed her neckline as her chest rose, that was an even worse idea.
“Good evening, Mr. Templeton.” Wonderful. Now she sounded like she’d swallowed a mouse. She cleared her throat and raised her chin. “You are looking well.”
His boyish grin turned into a deep chuckle as he leaned forward, staring into her eyes until her knees almost melted. “Good evening to you, too, Suzanna.”
“Don’t call me that,” she breathed.
He pulled back and studied her for a moment, this time offering a very polite, solicitous smile. “May I fetch you a glass of sherry?”
How did he do that? She was still reeling from his closeness and the tumultuous feelings in her body, and he looked as cool as a crisp autumn day. Another reason to avoid the man.
“Yes, a bit of sherry would be nice.”
He inappropriately placed his warm hand on her lower back, and they made their way to the sideboard where bottles of various liquors and drinks had been set up. She might have been able to gain some strength in her wobbly legs but for the heat that radiated from his palm. She quelled the urge to ask him to remove his hand, knowing it would only give him satisfaction that his touch had so affected her.
“Good evening, Miss Blake. You are a vision of loveliness.” Lord Hawkins greeted her, with a slight nod toward Mr. Templeton.
“Good evening to you, my lord. I must say your home, from what I’ve seen so far, is lovely.”
Lord Hawkins nodded. “Thank you. My mother will certainly appreciate your kind words.”
Suzanna accepted a glass from Mr. Templeton. “I am most anxious to greet your mother, my lord.”
Hawkins waved his glass in the general direction of the door. “Mother likes to make a bit of a show at these things. I’m sure she will be here directly.”
Lord Hawkins’s sister, Lady Honora, joined the group. “Mother was almost ready to come down when I passed her room a minute ago.” She smiled at Suzanna. “Miss Blake, I am so glad you were able to join us.”
Lady Honora was one year Suzanna’s junior. They had come out the same year, and rumor had it that she had the attention of the Earl of Graymoor, who’d suddenly left London mid-Season and had not been heard from since. Now the young girl seemed to have a sense of melancholy about her, and Suzanna wondered if it had something to do with Graymoor.
“I am happy to be here, as well. It is always nice to get away from the frantic pace of the Season for a short respite in the country.” Suzanna took a sip of her drink, more in control of herself with others surrounding her. Mr. Templeton remained by her side, but with Hawkins, Campbell, and Lady Honora added to the group, her considerations were not so caught up by him.
“I agree, Miss Blake. Sometimes I find the round of balls and routs tiring.” She slipped her arm into Suzanna’s. “Mother and I have so many wonderful activities planned. Hopefully, the weather will cooperate.”
“What activities have you planned for the gentlemen, Hawk?” Cam asked.
“Right now, the plans include a few outdoor activities. We have boats for an excursion on the lake, and even though it’s not the season for it yet, we might try some shooting. The billiard room is always open, and I thought a trip into the village for a tour of the Roman ruins and lunch at the local pub might be interesting for both the ladies and gentlemen.”
“Well done, Hawk. You have actually given this some thought.” Cam grinned and slapped Hawk on the back. “You will become a decent host yet.”
Hawk regarded Cam with a lazy smile. “Please don’t let the word get out, or some darling debutante will attempt to convince me that besides an excellent host, I would also be the best of husbands.” He shuddered and took a sip of his drink.
“Hawk, that is not proper conversation in front of ladies,” his sister scolded. “What will Miss Blake think?”
“She will think I am not husband material and will allow her friends to know that.” He saluted her with his glass.
“I think you are in your cups, brother.”
“Not yet, little sister of mine, not yet.”
Suzanna considered Hawkins’s words. Not that she had any draw toward him—certainly not as she did toward Mr. Templeton—but if she were to obey her mother’s strict requirements, she could cross Lord Hawkins off her list. He appeared a tad bitter and derisive. She couldn’t help but wonder about that.
Mr. Templeton leaned in close. “You can forget Hawk if you’re looking for a title.”
<
br /> She glared at him just as the butler announced dinner.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Giles entered the stables at Hawkins Manor to find Suzanna already there, speaking with the head groom. He could not believe his luck. He had no idea she was also an early morning rider.
“Good morning, Miss Blake.”
She turned, her mouth forming a perfect circle, then her eyes narrowed. “Did you follow me?”
“Hmm. Follow as in, after you in arriving? Yes. Follow as in, watching surreptitiously from behind the window drapes in my assigned bedchamber in the hopes you might be riding this morning? No. I always take an early morning ride—in the country, and even when I’m in London.”
“Very well, then.” Apparently mollified, she turned backed to the groom. “Once again, I do not want some ladylike weak-kneed mount. Please saddle something more vigorous.”
The groom stood, holding the reins of a very meek-appearing horse that Suzanna was not happy with. He had to agree. The poor animal looked as though it should be allowed its last days enjoying peaceful slumber.
“But miss, this is the horse we generally give our lady guests.” He looked around as if hoping someone else would come by and take the decision away from him before one of Hawkins’s guests was thrown and broke her neck.
“My good man, if the young lady wishes to ride something a bit more energetic, please accommodate her. I will be riding along.”
The groom shrugged, but appeared relieved, no doubt because someone else would be blamed if Suzanna took a toss.
She glared after the groom, her hands on her hips. “Honestly, I can’t imagine a groom refusing to supply a male guest with the mount he prefers. Women are simply not given enough credit. Did the man think I would ask for a more serious ride if I couldn’t handle it?”
“Unfortunately, what you say is true. The world we live in doesn’t grant women much freedom to make their own choices or for having common sense, even.”
“Well, then.” She regarded him with raised brows. “Congratulations. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a man say that.”
Giles grinned. “I will impress you yet.”
Suzanna tossed her head, the curls escaping from her riding hat bouncing alongside her face. “I must admit, that is quite admirable of you.”
The groom returned with a different horse—a beautiful buckskin gelding tugging on the reins, stepping lively, obviously ready for a run. “Will this do, miss?”
Suzanna walked up to the horse and ran her hand down its velvety nose. “Yes. He will do just fine.” She nuzzled the horse. “We will have a wonderful run, won’t we?” She turned to the groom. “What is his name?”
“Demon.”
Giles and Suzanna burst out laughing.
“I hope he lives up to it,” Suzanna said.
“Will you saddle Gallant for me, Edgar?”
“Yes, Mr. Templeton.”
Still petting and nuzzling Demon in a way he wished she was doing to him, Suzanna said, “With Hawkins being such a close friend of yours, I guess you would know the horses in his stables.” She looked in his direction. “Is Gallant the horse you generally ride?”
“No. He is my own horse. The one I rode yesterday.”
Although Giles had agreed with her that she should have a more vigorous horse, he could not help questioning her. “I hope you are capable of handling that horse, after I insisted on Edgar finding a better ride for you.”
She grinned. “Oh, yes, Mr. Templeton. Demon and I will get along just fine. Won’t we, boy?” She patted the horse’s face, and he moved his head to face her, obviously already in love.
It’s easy, isn’t it, Demon?
Edgar emerged from the stable leading Gallant. He was a fine black Welsh Cob, Giles’s pride and joy.
Giles greeted Gallant with a few words, snuck him half an apple, and rubbed his nose, then turned to Suzanna and grasped her around the waist, depositing her on the back of Demon.
“For goodness sakes, Mr. Templeton. You might have given me a warning.” She smoothed out her skirts and shifted in the saddle.
“You’re welcome, Miss Blake.” He swung his leg over Gallant and settled into the saddle.
“Thank you,” Suzanna mumbled.
They walked the horses from the stables, then trotted the animals toward the acreage behind the manor. “Where do you generally ride, Mr. Templeton?”
“Hmm. Still using Mr. Templeton, I see. My very disreputable uncle is Mr. Templeton.”
Ignoring his comment, she moved ahead of him. He couldn’t help but admire how she sat a horse. Indeed, she was no amateur when it came to riding. She controlled her mount with very little effort, which was no easy feat considering she rode sidesaddle.
“I usually ride out toward those woods.” He pointed to his left. “On the other side is a wonderful place to give the horses their head. Also, a few jumps if you feel up to it.”
“Yes, I do. Jumping is one of my favorite things about riding in the country. Unfortunately, my horse, Reginald, remained at our country home, so I don’t ride very much in London, since Lord Montford has only his personal mount and the carriage horses stabled there.”
“Does your cousin not ride?”
“No. Lady Montford took a toss when she was younger and has not ridden since.”
Giles shook his head. “’Tis well known that if you’re thrown from a horse, you should get right back on and ride again.”
“I know. I’ve told her that many times, but she is a bit stubborn.”
He glanced at her sideways. “It appears that trait runs in the family.”
Suzanna broke into a trot and grinned over her shoulder, her eyes flashing. “It might do you well to remember that, Mr. Templeton.”
He picked up his pace, and they trotted side by side until they reached the wooded area, then urged the horses into a canter. The wind blew through his hair, the crisp morning air perfect for a run. From time to time he glanced over at Suzanna, who looked like a goddess.
Her hair had blown free of its confinement and streamed behind her like a fairy princess, her hat long gone. Her cheeks had a rosy glow, and her eyes were wide with excitement as the horses’ hooves pounded the earth as they flew over the ground.
She turned her head and grinned at him, and like a thunderbolt over his head, he fell in love. He wanted this woman, no matter what.
…
Suzanna never felt more alive than when she was racing over the ground on a horse. She missed Reginald, but Demon made a wonderful substitute. The air was fresh, the sun shone from a deep blue sky, and the green of early spring surrounded them as she and Mr. Templeton dashed across the meadows from Hawkins Manor.
She’d been quite surprised to see him when he’d strolled up to the stables as she was requesting a better mount. She hated to think it was Mr. Templeton’s urging that made the groom change his mind. It had always annoyed her that women had to depend upon men to make decisions for them. Another reason to eschew his attentions. She was tired of living under someone else’s dictates, and she was certain Mr. Templeton had a great many of them.
She’d been suspicious when he had arrived. She’d thought for sure he’d seen her head to the stables and followed her, but something in his face told her he was being honest when he’d said he ordinarily rode each morning. Besides, she was a bit nervous about riding alone, since she’d never ridden at Hawkins Manor before and hadn’t wanted to take the groom from his duties to accompany her.
If Mother had known she’d planned to ride without a chaperone, the lecture would go on for hours. She should have had Bessie with her to act as chaperone, since Cousin Eunice did not ride. Additionally, she should not be spending time with a man who had no title. It was all so tiresome.
Once they reached a more confined area, they slowed the horses to a trot and Suzanna turned to Mr. Templeton. “You are an excellent horseman. Do you do everything well, then?”
“I try. One could say I
find success more often than failure.” He offered that devilish smile, and her insides tingled. “A third son must be quite adept at any number of things to maintain his position.”
“Tell me about your brothers.”
His face softened, revealing his love for his family more than any words could. “Eric is the heir, the pompous one whom we all dearly love. When the time comes—and I hope not for a very long time—he will be a fine Earl of Wexford. Richard, a year older than me, is a bit of a recluse, spending a great deal of his time with scientific books and journals. He writes volumes of papers and is a lauded member of the Linnean Society.”
“And you are number three.”
“Yes. Far enough away from the title to enjoy my life without worries of being stuck with it.”
Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “Stuck? I would think a younger brother would resent those before him.”
“Not at all. The earl has a great deal of responsibility. I have no problem accepting responsibility, but there is much about Eric’s life that I find quite distasteful.”
“Such as?”
“Most men who meet up with him are looking for a favor, and most women are looking for a titled husband.” He glanced at her with a grin, and she blushed.
Wishing to change the uncomfortable subject, she said, “I think the horses are ready for another run.” Without waiting for his response, she nudged Demon with her knees. “Where are the jumps?”
He pointed to his right. “Over that way, behind the woods. Follow me.” He turned his horse, and she smoothly shifted her reins so Demon followed. They circled the wooded area and came upon a wide open field, budding wild flowers growing amid the green grass. Ahead, someone had placed jumps about a quarter of a mile apart.
Mr. Templeton slowed his horse from a canter to a trot. “Are you all right with jumps? This is not a familiar horse to you.”
“Yes. I do it all the time at home.” She patted Demon’s neck. “And this boy will take good care of me, won’t you?”
Wagering for Miss Blake (Lords and Ladies in Love) Page 6
