Page 22

T he next morning, wanting to ensure all was perfect for his outing with Mary, Kit awoke as the sun crested the tree tops.

Not a half hour later, he strode to the stables on the other side of a macadam courtyard.

Even here he could see Mary’s handiwork.

The semi-hard finished surface had not been there previously.

The last time he was at Rose Hill, it was mostly dirt and mud.

Roses that must have been replanted from another location, scrambled up the wall, creating the impression the stables were part and parcel of the house.

The roof and outside of the building were in pristine condition.

A low “moo” drew his attention to the other end of the long structure that now stretched to a stone barrier, incorporating what had once been separate smaller stables.

All in all it was a vast improvement, and she’d only been here a few months.

Damn, the woman was a wonder. Exactly the sort of wife he needed. He must take care not to step over the line and frighten her away. He would not make the same mistakes some of his friends had.

Last evening, he had found himself touching her whenever possible. Kit would have to keep his growing attraction for her under control. To do otherwise would dishonor her. Marriage before lust.

All he’d have to do is keep repeating that mantra.

Dent called a greeting. “Looky what I found. Two of the most beautiful steppers I ever seen.”

Kit ran his hand over one of the matched, dark-bay geldings harnessed to his carriage. “What handsome gentlemen. They must be out of Lord Marnly’s stables in Ireland.”

“Ain’t no doubting it. Her ladyship’s groom told me they got them from the rector.

” Dent scratched his head. “Found two good hacks as well. Someone other than the rector has a good eye for horseflesh. Don’t suppose you got a hankering to add to the stables?

We got plenty of empty stalls.” Dent gestured with his chin in the direction of the stone wall.

“Dairy and buttery’s down that way, and the coach house is now the first building ye come to from the drive. ”

The whole arrangement was pleasing to the eye as well as sensible. “I just may discuss additional cattle with the rector, but for the time being, I should inspect the estate. Did you get the hamper from the cook?”

He pointed under the curricle’s seat. “Right there. I was just gettin’ ready to bring it around.”

“I’ll go back in the house and fetch her ladyship.”

“Ah, sir?”

Kit turned to his groom. “Yes?”

“It would mean a lot if you kept on her ladyship’s good side. Mrs. Gregson, the cook, keeps a fine table, but our fortunes are tied to yours.”

Wonderful. All Kit needed was more pressure. After having met the woman, he could see her attempting to get back at him through his servants. “I’ll do my best. By the way, make some inquiries about a Mr. Gawain Tolliver. He is a sort of relation to Lady Mary. I want to ensure he’s not been around.”

“And if he has?”

“We’ll find another place for him to be.” Kit would not tolerate the scoundrel’s harassment of Mary. How no one else could get rid of the man was beyond him. Barham might not want to be ruthless with Tolliver, but Kit had no such compunctions.

He made his way to the front of the house where a neat trellis of yellow roses was just coming into bloom. Mary stood in the doorway speaking with Simons. “Good morning, my lady.”

Smiling, she gracefully descended the steps and held out her hand. “Good morning to you, sir.”

Kit thought he saw the butler’s lips tilt up the tiniest bit but couldn’t be sure. No matter, soon he and Mary would be wed, and the staff would have no cause to worry about her. Simons entered the hall, leaving Kit alone with her. “Allow me to help you into the carriage.”

She started to place her foot on the step when he suddenly gave in to the need to lift her into the carriage, depositing her gently on the seat.

Her eyes widened. “Goodness. No one has ever done that before. ”

He had never done that before either, and in future he’d ensure no other man ever had the opportunity. “I hope you don’t mind my groom appropriating your horses. Would you like to drive?”

Mary settled her skirts. “Thank you for asking, but maybe later.”

“Ah, you are going to assess my skill. I do not suppose you’d be impressed if I told you I am a member of the Four Horse Club?”

“Are you really?” she asked in an amazed tone. “Barham has wanted to be a member for years. Unfortunately he’s a bit ham-handed. My father was a member, though.”

“Yes.” Kit coughed. Should he tell her he’d been one of those blackballing poor Barham? “I am aware of your brother’s attempts.”

“Oh no!” Mary’s light laughter filled his soul. “I know it’s terrible, but even his wife won’t allow him to drive her. He sulked for days when she agreed to allow me to tool her around in my phaeton.”

Kit threaded the ribbons through his fingers. “In that case, I definitely wish to see your skill.”

As they drove around the estate, she introduced him to his tenants.

Everyone, it seemed, knew he was here and took their cues from her.

Once they saw she was friendly toward him, their skepticism turned to acceptance.

From the way all and sundry were acting, he could not imagine either the Rose Hill servants or his dependents believing he and Mary were not husband and wife.

If he didn’t soon win her agreement to wed him, there would be the devil to pay.

Toward midday, he directed the carriage to a wooded area by the river. After unhitching the pair, he led them to a shaded spot where the horses could drink and munch on the spring grass.

He took out the hamper and blanket and carried them to a flat area near the water. Mary helped him spread the blanket out on the ground and soon the food was unpacked. Cook had given them enough for days: Cheeses, bread, hothouse grapes, cold beef, and chicken made up the meal.

“This is my favorite spot on Rose Hill.” Mary gave a small sigh as she settled elegantly on the blanket.

He reclined on the other side of the dishes, finally able to relax a bit. It appeared his plan to woo her was working. “That is what I was given to understand.”

A light pink colored her face. “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure.” He accepted a piece of cold chicken from her and bit into it. “This is excellent. ”

Her blush deepened. “Do you like it? It’s an old receipt I found. The chicken is soaked in herbs over night.”

“I have never had chicken that was so delicious.” He didn’t know any other woman, not even his mother or grandmother, who knew as much about cooking as Mary appeared to.

As she nibbled on a piece of local cheese, Kit couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to her lips. A sudden and almost overpowering urge to push her down to the ground and kiss her senseless coursed through him.

Which was exactly what he should not, could not do.

He was not a barbarian. Thus far he’d successfully ignored the fact that Mary slept mere feet away from him, that he could hear her sing when she was in the bathtub and naked. He couldn’t ruin everything now. Mary may have to wed him, but he would court her properly.

Her small, even teeth bit into a piece of bread, and the tip of her tongue licked a crumb from the corner of her lips. His heartbeat quickened, and Kit stifled a groan. When had eating become so erotic?

No kissing until you are betrothed.

Reaching over, he grabbed the jug of wine and removed the cork. “Would you like some?”

She sat up straighter, cleaning her fingers with a serviette. “Yes, thank you.”

Rather than actual glasses, the cook had packed old-fashioned pottery wine cups. He filled one for Mary, bending sideways to place it next to her. At the same time she moved to take it. Their fingers brushed and their lips were only inches apart. She stilled, her eyelashes fluttering down.

Kit’s heart thudded as he backed up slowly, attempting to get his baser instincts under control. No matter how much he wanted her, there would be no sampling the wares. Everyone around her was trying to manage her life. He must allow her to make her own decisions . . . to a point.

Mary waited and waited as time seemed to stand still.

Kit was so close. She’d been sure he was going to kiss her.

Then he moved away. She could have screamed with frustration.

This was so unfair! The first time she wanted to be kissed, and the blasted man didn’t even try.

How was she to determine if she could love him if they didn’t kiss?

Stamping down her annoyance, she took a sip of chilled white wine.

She would be reasonable. They’d only known each other a few days.

Perhaps he thought it was too soon, yet Grandmamma had said men always took what was offered and sometimes what wasn’t.

Mary remembered catching Barham kissing his wife during the house party at which they had met. They hadn’t thought it was too soon.

Maybe Kit had not wanted to kiss her. Perhaps he was willing to wed her only to stop a scandal. He could go jump in the river if he thought that.

Mary opened her mouth to ask, then shut it again. She would wait a while longer, but if he didn’t do something by next week, she’d call this courtship off. There was no point in being wooed by a gentleman who didn’t truly want her.

She tried not to frown as he tossed off his cup of wine and immediately poured another. She hoped he did not always drink so quickly. She’d never heard of him being a drunkard, but some hid it well.

Perhaps it was something else. “Kit, is anything wrong?”

“No.” He set his cup down. “I was merely distracted by the view.”

Trees lined the area in which they sat, framing the vista across the narrow river. On the opposite bank was a meadow dotted with sheep, across the fields to the hazy blue hills beyond. “It is beautiful.”