Three sharp horn blasts signaled the hunt was to begin. Every inch of open grass filled with riders and a copious number of hounds, yipping and yapping in their hurry to be off the leash.
Mills pulled into position at Lindsey’s right at the same time Powell approached on the left. Were Lindsey a more suspicious man he would accuse the men of colluding against him. Instead he acknowledged them both, aware they more than likely wished to keep pace with Infinity. His Arabian would leave their horses in the dust.
“Let’s sweeten the stakes.” Mills leaned over to smooth a turn in his horse’s bridle. “I’ve an eye on Lady Caroline, and I’m not so conceited to believe she won’t become distracted by your performance in the hunt or, worse, smitten despite your insincerity. You have a way of disturbing the intended course of things.”
Lindsey listened closely, his friend walking a thin line with his unflattering description. Yet he waited, holding his response until Mills completed his proposition.
“If I win the hunt and trophy the tail, you will refrain from socializing and dancing with her at the masquerade this evening.”
“You’re aware I’m riding Infinity and have no interest in terrorizing the fox. It’s a foolish wager with a foolish request.” He bit back the words he most wanted to voice. That no one warned him away from a woman, most especially Lady Caroline. But he knew better. He needed Mills’ help in recovering the paintings and therefore couldn’t alienate the man. As to the hunt, he had no intention of competing with sincerity. Each year he joined the race and then gallantly stepped aside so another could claim the victory.
“Does that mean you won’t accept my terms?”
“Where is the benefit for me?”
“I will locate the last painting and deliver the Morta to you.”
“You know of its whereabouts?” He shifted on the saddle and his horse sidestepped with impatience, causing a separation from Powell.
“We’ve no time to dither in details, but you have my word.”
“Not a forgery, mind you, Mills.”
“The authentic art piece as verified by my associate.”
Lindsey chuckled low, sly enough to know how Mills’ mind worked. There was flawed thinking involved in the wager, and yet what did it matter? He would clear the field so another could win the hunt and this conversation would all be for naught. “I accept.”
Mills broke away without a sideways glance and Lindsey hadn’t another moment to consider it before Powell caught his ear.
“We have further business.”
“We established that last evening.”
“You have something that belongs to me.”
“Not that I’m aware.” Lindsey watched as Henley trotted to the front of the grouping. “I have no ability to turn back time, Powell. Had I the power, I’d be too busy fixing my own past to interfere in yours.”
“We’ll see when this is over.”
That last bit was ambiguous at best, but Lindsey had no time to reply as a long trumpet blast fired everyone into action.
Impeccably trained and loyal to a fault, Infinity galloped into the fray, anxious to please his master.
Chapter Seventeen
The ladies were assembled on a lawn near the finish. Servants bustled about with food stuffs and refreshments for anyone who cared to picnic. Thick blankets covered the flattest grassy areas and hampers of bread, cheese, and fruit were available. Caroline stood with Teresa Henley in the shade of a pyramidal hornbeam tree. Her mother was seated on a bench a few strides away, engaged in animated conversation.
“How fortunate the weather turned out fair,” Teresa commented. “I don’t know what I would have done if rain kept everyone indoors.”
“I marvel at how perfectly you’ve arranged this event considering you’re—” Caroline hesitated as she searched for the right word. Her gaze dropped to the subtle swell of Teresa’s rounded belly.
“Moving slower than usual.” Teresa laughed lightly. “We’ve hosted this event for several years and aside from a review of the guest list, it practically plans itself now. Of course, there’s the exception this year that we’re holding the party earlier in anticipation of our child.” Teresa paused as her smile grew wider. “I suppose everyone will be able to discern who I am at the masquerade ball this evening.”
“True, although with each guest’s face concealed and the woodland theme dictating elaborate costume and mask, the event is set to be a festive success. It all seems so mysterious. I might dance with a stranger or promenade with a friend and I’d never know. It certainly makes the evening more exciting. I’m looking forward to it.” And the chance to finally share a waltz with Lindsey.
“I see that wistful gleam in your eyes. You’re thinking of someone in particular. A certain gentleman has caught your attention.” Teresa touched her arm fondly. “Is he riding in the hunt this morning? Perhaps he’ll win and present you with the tail.”
“My affection won’t require such a grand gesture. A dance would be fine. Just one, dare I wish for two.”
“You seem especially smitten,” Teresa continued. “I’ll do everything in my power to see that your wishes come true, although I can make no promises. Even I won’t know who is who, their identity concealed behind a mask or domino. Revealing one’s name is against masquerade rules.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll know him.” Caroline nodded with confidence. “For no reason I can explain, whenever the gentleman is near it’s as if…” Her voice trailed off.
“You needn’t explain further. I understand. It was the same for me when I met Lord Henley. Fate dictated it would be so, and we were useless to resist.”
“Hopefully tonight I will decipher his feelings toward me. I’ve shared his company, but his actions have left me puzzled. And yet, other times…” She stalled in her explanation, unsure how to interpret Lindsey’s attention. He embraced her fervently and yet broke promises to meet, sometimes sacrificing the opportunity to kiss her hand in greeting or walk beside her. To have it her way, she would grasp every chance to know him better. Certainly, in the stairwell, they’d shared an intimacy like none other she’d experienced. But Lindsey was a notorious rakehell. Could it be what she interpreted as sincerity was nothing more than distraction? Her high hopes plummeted.
“Since you’re interested in finding a match this season and have this gathering to better acquaint yourself with the gentlemen in attendance, I hope you won’t squander the time pining for one beau in particular. When you meet the right person, you’ll know without a doubt.”
This bit of advice, unlike mother’s vague and often misguided contributions, rang true to Caroline’s heart, and yet in that the contrariness of Lindsey’s attention intensified. Her pulse leapt whenever she thought of him. Did he feel the same attraction? She had little aside from flirtation to cause her to believe so. With him being older and more worldly, perhaps she was nothing more than a passing fancy.
* * * *
The fox was a wily devil on the run. The hounds were fast after. And not ten paces behind, Infinity gave chase. Lindsey maneuvered the Arabian with skill, skirting shrubbery and rocks which jutted into the forest path, riding flat against his horse’s neck whenever low-lying branches intruded to easily maintain a lead over the pack of riders atop inferior horseflesh.
He had no wish to win the hunt for a variety of reasons. Caroline’s disdain for the sport served as the strongest impetus, but too, he’d only participated the past few seasons as it was expected, and then pursued the fox because it was expected. His father’s interference in his future and demand he find not one but three paintings to reestablish solid fiscal security before he marry and beget an heir drove whatever misgivings he might have harbored straight to hell.
He was bloody sick and tired of doing what everyone expected.
While the ton viewed his lifestyle as an endless string of in
dulgent freedoms, he often played a role, one which was once daring and interesting and now paled greatly, the roguish portrayal difficult to abandon although he desired to do so.
He longed for a fresh beginning. Caroline represented everything he hadn’t realized he wanted until he tasted her kiss. Noticed the light in her eyes. Lost himself to frequent distraction, where nothing else mattered beyond the next words that would pass from her honey sweet lips.
Foolishly, he’d given his word not to interfere in Mills’ courtship and yet the thought of his friend placing a hand on Caroline or tasting her delectable mouth lit Lindsey with fury, an emotion he needed to keep in check at the moment.
Infinity whinnied and Lindsey shot his attention to the path. A lone rider intersected his progress. It was Powell. Goddammit. He could only have cheated and taken another route. But it appeared his half brother wasn’t interested in chasing the fox.
Powell raised his arm, revealing a pistol in his hand, and with a sharp jerk of his head indicated Lindsey detour into a nearby copse of trees.
Infinity obeyed this redirection swiftly and soon became hidden by a cluster of hornbeam and juniper. Other anxious riders raced by and Lindsey’s slick maneuver went unnoticed.
“What the hell is this about, Powell?” Had he not been so lost in thoughts of Caroline, he might have avoided this situation altogether.
“Ironic, to confront you here so close to our father’s most lavish holding.” Powell nodded in indication to the east of the property. “But as the legitimate heir, it’s yours now, isn’t it? You were the chosen son. The one who signified. I was the bastard, the ugly truth kept hidden.” He hardly paused. “I’ve tasked myself with making things right when all I really need is to make things mine.”
“If this is about greed, we can remedy the situation,” Lindsey scoffed, his mind fast at work. “If this is about our father, then it is out of my control. Bitter and spiteful, wasn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t know beyond a few brief encounters. Still, I want what I should have had always. Reputation, financial security, and a proper home. He stole my mother’s virtue and in return left us with nothing but hardship. Kingswood Manor is a fine beginning to a long overdue compensation.”
“Kingswood Manor is mine.” Infinity whickered, the horse impatient, and Lindsey held him firm with a tug on the reins. “Do you want all of history or just the spoils? Our sire was neglectful and abusive. Were he alive I’d gladly support your petition for what you believe you deserve, but I can’t resurrect the old bastard.” Nor do I have funds to spare.
“I’m after a rightful share of recognition and a large sum of money.” Powell waggled the pistol still clenched in his right hand. “You’ll deal with me sooner than later.”
“You won’t kill me.” Lindsey held his half brother’s stare a long minute before he nudged Infinity forward. As he turned his back on Powell, a gunshot sounded in the distance. Across the acreage, someone had cornered the fox and won the day.
* * * *
Caroline made her way upstairs, intent on having time to herself before she readied for the evening’s masquerade ball. She’d enjoyed her conversation with Lady Henley. Teresa was easy to talk to and possessed an optimistic outlook likely due to the upcoming birth of her first child. As much as Caroline’s heart ached with fear and remorse concerning her own future and ability to have a family, she found joy in their new friendship. Mother’s unsolicited advice and close companionship were something else altogether. Deep down Caroline knew her mother meant well, but for all the archaic and misguided instruction Mother spouted, Caroline found she behaved in the opposite manner. Whether subconsciously or not, the unsolicited input urged her to rebel.
She made for the hall stairs now, anxious to rest her eyes and sort her thoughts. The finishing field where Lord Mills had regaled everyone with his triumph over the fox had left her feeling unsettled. How anyone could congratulate an armed and intelligent man for cornering a defenseless animal was beyond her comprehension? And what had happened to Lindsey? He’d all but disappeared. For all the talk of his horsemanship he was nowhere to be found. Foolishly she had hoped for a bit of conversation. She would have settled for one of his piercing stares that never failed to set her blood to boil. But as with other times when she’d expected to see him, when he’d promised her otherwise, disappointment proved the victor.
She reached the landing and moved swiftly toward the hall, then came up short. She’d almost collided with the same man who occupied her thoughts. Perhaps she’d conjured him by sheer willpower.
“Jonathan.”
He approved of the familiarity with a flash of his smile. Damn the man for being so handsome. It distracted her from purpose.
“Caroline.”
Her name rolled from his tongue like an endearment, his voice low, meant for her ears only.
“I thought I might see you outside at the end of the hunt.”
“Were you disappointed?”
“That’s terribly arrogant of you to ask.” Her lips crept upward to soften the admonishment.
“I’m here now.” He leaned a little closer, a note of mischief alive in his voice. “And where are you off to?”
“I hope to rest before tonight’s masquerade.” She matched his eyes. “Will you attend?”
“Far be it from me to miss the pinnacle event of the entire gathering. I rather like to dance,” he mused. “And I wouldn’t miss seeing you dressed as an ethereal fairy nymph or endearing wood sprite for all the world.”
Her smile broke free despite she shouldn’t appear so delighted by his words. “You still owe me a waltz, my lord.”
“Tonight, I will give you all my dances, my lady.”
“How very daring.” She warmed from the inside out. “But you court scandal with that promise and will cause every tongue in attendance to wag with gossip. Propriety dictates we dance no more than twice.”
“Propriety be damned. Life is full of inconvenient complications, isn’t it?”
A door opened and closed down the hall and she slid her eyes to the right, unwilling to turn her attention away but equally concerned their moment would be lost.
“You shall have all my dances, Caroline. That is my vow.”
All teasing abandoned, he spoke so sincerely she was tempted to believe it true.
“There are no dance cards, and everyone will be masked. I hardly see how—”
“Have faith this time, love.” He took a step away and bowed. “Until this evening.”
* * * *
Lindsey walked away, cursing himself as a fool. What nonsense had he spouted, charmed by a mere slip of a girl almost a decade younger than himself? Had life and the lessons found there taught him nothing of wisdom and caution? Apparently not.
She would be hurt in the end. No matter he saw his future in her eyes. No matter his heart beat with enthusiasm and desire whenever he thought of her, he could never offer her the lifestyle she deserved. Oh, he had reputation and status. He’d likely have money enough in the end.
But loyalty? Honor? Love? He wondered if he were capable after so many years of avoiding emotional attachments. He had been raised in a home as cold as the winter wind. He doubted he knew much about tender emotion. He wasn’t composed of the traits needed for a lasting marriage. It could only be that she presented a reprieve from his regular schedule of indulgence and discontent. Besides, he was supposed to be advising her on the better candidates of the season, not conjuring ways for their paths to intersect. How despicable.
Still, he wouldn’t disappoint her in this. He would have each of her dances if she desired it so.
With the decision made, he forced his concentration to his bastard half brother. Hadn’t the man any sense? Confronting him with a pistol during the hunt was a sly, if not dramatic, ruse. Had Powell wished to finish him off, the gunshot would have been dismissed as
nothing more than a participant’s attempt to win the day and kill the fox.
Bloody hell, not this fox.
Perhaps his father, their father, had placed impossible demands upon Powell as well. Lindsey experienced a beat of guilt at the suggestion. While he had endless resources at his disposal, Powell would have a more difficult time. Still, Lindsey couldn’t be distracted by whatever unknown conditions existed. He needed to find the two remaining paintings and be damned with begetting an heir. His father had proven a failing example, but the earldom belonged to him. Rightfully. And no one would deny him that power.
Chapter Eighteen
Caroline twirled in front of the cheval glass, pleased with her appearance. Her hair was arranged in a simple style, pinned atop her head with a few soft curls near her nape, where her maid had woven a satin ribbon with seed pearls and peridot gemstones that glinted in the candlelight. Her costume was composed of a flowing gown made of a shimmering silk the color of rich emeralds. The neckline exposed a modest portion of skin, though her shoulders were bare. Her satin slippers were adorned with ladybug shoe clips. She looked every part the enchanted fairy who lived in the forest’s flowerbeds. Would the fox find her this evening?
She certainly hoped so.
A tremulous shiver raced through her. What was this game she played with Lindsey? Would he truly attempt to collect her for every dance? The scandalous idea was both reckless and enthralling.
Still, a shred of her mother’s unending advice managed to penetrate her giddy anticipation. A lady must always present herself as the epitome of decorum. Not a hair out of place. Not a laugh too loud or smile too wide.
Whenever Lindsey spoke to her, looked at her, her pulse tripled, while anticipation developed a maelstrom of emotion that swept through her from head to toe, squeezing her heart and leaving her breathless. What did any of it mean? As of yet she’d squandered every opportunity to converse with other gentlemen, instead spending her time seeking Lindsey or, worse, woolgathering about their conversations.
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