Page 2

Caleb Monteith sat on his horse, enjoying his early morning view of the fields.

He’d been in England for a little over three weeks and still felt unsettled, but he would have to adapt as this gloomy country was now his home.

Today, for once, it wasn’t overcast. The sun stretching across the land made a stunning sight, reminding him of the open plains of the American West, his home.

He still couldn’t believe that his uncle had died without an heir.

The man had banished his father from his ancestral estate more than thirty years ago because he dared to fall in love with a lowly maid and marry her.

Now, Caleb, derived from that union, would inherit the title of Marquess of Haven.

There was nothing that appealed to him about being a peer.

No, it was the property he wanted. His father had talked about it with such awe when he and his siblings were young.

In truth, it was probably what made Caleb leave the family’s elegant life in New York City at eighteen for the wilds of the West.

A sigh escaped him, and he patted his horse, grateful that Betsy had made it to England with him. His mother had been shocked when he suggested they bring her, but he didn’t care. Betsy had helped him through many challenging situations.

His gaze darted to a figure walking quickly and flailing her arms. She kept turning back and yelling.

He studied the blonde-haired woman, wondering what she was doing.

She reached a part of the road that was higher up, and he saw that geese were after her.

A deep chuckle escaped him. Whoever she was, the lady wasn’t accustomed to the country or geese. Her arm waving only excited them more.

He urged Betsy on, deciding he should help her. They seemed to be the only ones out and about. Caleb suspected she was part of the same house party he was attending. He and his family arrived late last night and hadn’t met any of the other guests yet.

The Marquess and Marchioness of Derry were some of the nicest peers he’d encountered since his arrival in the country. His mother was filled with worry that everyone was judging them. He wished his father were still alive. Caleb suspected that would make his mother more at ease.

She fretted that everyone was talking about how his father had married her, a lowly maid. Perhaps they were, Caleb thought, but it didn’t really matter. No matter how affronted they were by his mother’s bloodlines, the title was his.

He slowed his horse to a gentle trot, taking in the woman whose blonde mane was now falling down her back. She waved at the geese again. “Go!”

She hadn’t seen him yet, as her sole focus seemed to be surviving the imminent attack by the birds. Whoever she was, the lady was beautiful. Not as young as some of the other women he’d met who were on the marriage mart, but Caleb wasn’t sure age mattered so much to him. Who was she?

One goose spread its wings and flapped them at her, making all kinds of noises. The woman let out a screech, and Caleb, laughing, charged the birds, scaring them all away. They made even more noise but continued away from her.

His eyes connected with the woman’s, and she burst out laughing. Pushing her thick, blonde hair away from her face, the woman sighed. His eyes lingered on her lips and moved down her throat, but Caleb stopped himself from perusing her form further.

Still, his stomach and his heart clenched at the sight of her, startling him. Her blue eyes studied him, and there was a rightness about her gaze that was both disconcerting and mesmerizing.

***

Celeste couldn’t stop laughing. She had no idea who the man on the horse was, but she didn’t doubt she looked like someone who’d gone crazy. The geese had begun following her from the first pond she passed when she departed Derry Hall.

For days, her business partners had told her to enjoy the fresh country air, so this morning, unable to sleep, she’d finally decided to do so, only to be chased by the bloody birds.

She glanced at the man, and he grinned back at her.

Her heart stumbled a little bit. There was a rugged appeal to him.

He watched her intently, and her body hummed under his perusal. Heat streaked across her cheeks. Why was she blushing? She wasn’t some young na?ve miss. Taking a deep breath, Celeste said, “Thank you, sir. I feared they would chase me all the way down the road.”

A deep, rich laugh drifted out of him. He swung his leg over his horse and slid to the ground. He was tall, tan, and broad. She swallowed, as a shiver ran over her body, but it wasn’t from fear.

“I assume you are attending the same party as me at Derry Hall.”

Celeste realized the man was an American. “I am.”

“I’m Caleb Monteith.”

She nodded, her eyes locking with his green ones. “I’m Miss Hathway.”

Monteith flashed her a smile again. Celeste suspected it was one he used when trying to be charming. It most definitely was.

“Please call me Caleb or Monteith.”

Amusement filled her, and she laughed. “You might want to watch that with the ladies on the marriage mart; that is almost a proposal.”

He pressed his hands over his heart. “Are you saying no?”

Celeste did laugh then. She liked this American. “Very amusing, Monteith.”

“What is your full name?” he said, smiling at his own cleverness.

“Celeste Hathaway.”

“Shall I call you Celeste or Hathaway?” he inquired.

The blush that had finally disappeared from Celeste’s cheeks came back. While she enjoyed speaking with him, his lack of formality wouldn’t be good when they returned to Derry Hall.

“Hathaway, it is. Don’t worry, I like it. It has a certain endearing ring to it,” he said.

“Miss Hathaway is fine as well.”

“We are past such formalities. I saved you from vicious birds,” he said, beaming at her.

She couldn’t stop herself from giggling. The man was truly charming and one of the most attractive men she’d ever met. Her eyes wandered down him until she jerked her gaze back to his face, horrified that she was ogling him so openly.

His lips twitched in amusement, but he said nothing about it. Instead, he asked. “Where are we headed, Hathaway?”

“My friends suggested I enjoy the country air. I had no direction planned out, but now I suspect most of the house is up. I should probably return for breakfast.”

Monteith nodded. “May I walk with you?”

She smiled. “Of course.”

“So, you aren’t a country girl?” he asked.

Celeste liked his drawl. He seemed unrushed and so at ease. She shook her head. “I’m a London girl through and through.”

He grinned. “I grew up in New York City but have been living farther west on the plains for most of my adult life.”

A city boy turned,” she began, but wasn’t really sure what he had become.

“Rancher or homesteader,” he provided.

Her eyes widened. She’d read novels about men in the American West. “Do you still spend time in New York City?”

He nodded. “Most of my family still calls it home, besides one of my brothers. My land out west is only one part of my family’s ventures. The rest are located in the city.”

“What brings you to London?” Celeste asked, intrigued, trying to understand what the appeal of England would be to this man who seemed so rugged and, she swallowed, wild.

He shrugged. “New business opportunities for my family. My brothers Cory and Cordell are more than capable of managing the property out west and our businesses in New York City.”

When they reached the house, he stopped. “I need to take care of Betsy, but I hope to see you later today.”

Celeste realized she liked him. Hopefully, she could speak with him more.

He was so different than the other men at the party.

Not that it mattered, currently, she didn’t have time for men in her life, even a dalliance.

Still, didn’t Derry and Devons tell her to enjoy herself more?

There was no harm in friendly banter. She smiled.

“I hope so as well. Good day, Monteith.”

He winked at her. “Bye, Hathaway.”