Page 11 of Dare to Tempt an Earl This Spring (Wedding Fever #1)

T homas parted the curtain and peered out of the carriage window, his grin widening at the sight of his estate sprawling across Elysian Fields. Every time the carriage crested the hill and wound down the familiar lane toward Fort Balmore, that same rush of pride hit him. It was his—the land, the house, the stables—all the product of years of hard work and a dash of stubborn determination. If nothing else in his life made sense, this estate did. It had been his favorite place since boyhood, and now, he was bringing her into it.

Home.

He couldn’t believe it—he was bringing a fiancée home . Somehow, he’d always imagined it differently. His parents and his grandfather would have been alive to welcome the love of his life when he first brought her to see their family pride. He’d introduce her to the staff, people who had been in his life for as long as he could remember.

But he was the only one left and there wasn’t enough time before the Ascot. And it was too soon to know whether Ashley was the love of his life, wasn’t it? He’d never been in this situation, so how could he know?

Thomas pondered how he had ended up in this position while he stared at the beauty who was eyeing his estate. Of course it wasn’t something he could hide, but he felt vulnerable showing her.

Marrying to save his horses .

A wager had started it, but as the days passed, it had become more than that. Those horses were more than just prized possessions—they were his father’s legacy. The thought of losing them—it wasn’t just the value or prestige at stake. They were the last real connection he had to his father and grandfather, to the men who’d instilled in him every bit of honor and pride he held. They were also his pride, the product of years of effort, a symbol of who he was beyond the estate and titles. The title and the horses belonged together, and Thomas wanted nothing more than to be worthy of both.

Thomas glanced at Lady Ashley, who sat quietly across from him, her gaze fixed out the window. He wondered if she realized just how she was saving him. A wave of gratitude washed over him. He was—Thomas gripped the edge of the upholstered cabin seat—happy. Happy that Ashley was with him. That she was coming home with him.

His brow furrowed as the realization settled in. She’d been uncharacteristically silent since their night in the barn. Uncannily so. In fact, it was unlike her. He wished he could peer into her mind. After yesterday, the truth was as clear as the dawn light. Oh, how he wanted her. Not just for fleeting moments, not just for the convenience of marriage, but wholly—heart and soul. In every way possible.

He wanted Lady Ashley to be his in every sense of the word.

And if that meant getting crafty? Well, he wasn’t above using every charming, sneaky, or underhanded trick in the book to win her heart. And it was a beautiful day—perfect for plotting ways to steal her heart, if he did say so himself. But he’d never truly tried to woo a lady, especially not one who’d agreed to marry him for some other reason. What was her secret?

Ah, it’s hot again.

He opened the window of the cabin as they reached the path that followed the creek. He loved its sound, which, despite the constant noise, brought him a quiet peace.

“It’s quite impressive.” Her voice filled the carriage. “Your home. I can see why you wouldn’t want to part with any of it—even if it’s just a few horses.”

Well, they aren’t just any horses. He sent her a small smile. “I’m glad you like it since this is your home now, too.” He pointed out the window. “Over there, by the tangled willows, is where my grandfather put me on a horse for the first time.” He couldn’t hide the nostalgia in his voice.

“Willows?” Lady Ashley frowned, squinting out the window. “All I see are naked trees with frost on them.”

Thomas shot her a look. “Such a city girl, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “All trees without leaves look the same to me.”

He let out a short laugh. “A tree doesn’t need leaves to be recognizable.”

Lady Ashley tilted her head with a playful smirk. “Is this also where you break in your wild beasts? There are rumors about you and the wild horses in London, you know. I hope you don’t have any plans to treat me like livestock.”

Thomas chuckled. Ah. Yes. His soon-to-be wife might be harder to tame than the wild Normandy stallion he’d acquired last year. But he didn’t want her tamed. He liked her wild—bold.

“I would never dare,” Thomas drawled with a smile. “Horses of this caliber, Lady Ashley, are not livestock. I do, however, own livestock—chickens, cows, a few sheep. They’re useful animals, but none of them come close to the beauty of a horse. Would you like to see them, Lady Ashley?”

“The horses or your chickens?”

He shot her a pointed look and she laughed. “I would very much like to meet the very animals responsible for this engagement of ours.”

“Excellent.” He rapped on the carriage roof and called out, “To the stables first.”

“You truly are a country boy!”

Thomas grinned. “Aren’t we the pair?” Odd that his heart lurched when he’d said it. He was one half of a pair now and he felt responsible for her. Plus, he was eager to show her, and to discover himself, what it felt like to be with him. The Earl of Linsey with his Countess…

“Some might consider it bad.”

“Why?” Thomas challenged. “Opposites attract in all sorts of ways.”

“Indeed.”

When the carriage pulled to a stop, Thomas wasted no time to leap out of the carriage, turning to offer Lady Ashley a hand. She placed her fingers in his palm, and a jolt raced down his spine. His body didn’t even spare him such a simple touch.

“Come,” he said gruffly, clasping her hand and pulling her toward the stables.

“Does your staff always wave to you?” Lady Ashley asked curiously. Thomas tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. What would Lady Ashley say if she were to see him working alongside his men in dirty breeches come spring? The thought amused him more than it should, and he suddenly couldn’t wait for that moment.

“Oh!”

Thomas followed Lady Ashley’s gaze.

A beautiful brown mare trotted into view, her chestnut coat shimmering like polished mahogany in the sunlight. Her muscles rippled with every graceful stride. She was the finest horse he owned, a testament to his care and patience. And she’d win for him at Ascot—there was no doubt.

He grinned as he reached for the mare, who tossed her mane with a playful flick. Her ears twitched, and she leaned into him, nuzzling his hand in a gesture of familiar affection.

Lady Ashley jerked her head back and crinkled her nose. “Is the horse kissing you?”

“She’s saying hello.”

“But the horse touched your mouth.” Ashley’s face was crinkled like a dried prune, and he laughed.

“This is Lady Stradivarius,” he introduced the mare, beaming with pride.

“As in the violin?”

“Yes, she’s an Italian thoroughbred, and the color of a Stradivarius. I got her as a foal last year. Isn’t she magnificent?”

“Well, I suppose…”

The horse flicked her ears and blew gently, inclining her head toward Ashley. She hesitated, but only briefly, before she pulled off her gloves and tentatively stroked the mare’s forelock, her touch delicate but firm.

Thomas watched, transfixed.

He’d lamented Paisley all through his time in London, but now he couldn’t help but feel grateful. He would not only win this wager, but he would keep so much more than just six horses.

*

Ashley had a secret.

She didn’t care for horses. Well, she cared in the sense that she could admire their beauty and all, but she kept her distance because they were big. And a bit scary. Perhaps because they were so big. They also kicked. And they bit. But she had come this far, and she wouldn’t back down now.

That didn’t mean she didn’t jerk at the slightest movement of the horse.

One.

Two.

Three.

She slowly retracted her hand.

It hadn’t bitten her. Certainly not like that nasty one from the fair when she was six.

She had to admit, this one was beautiful. Her mane, dark as the night sky, flowed freely, dancing with the wind as it cascaded down her arched neck. The mare’s equally dark forelock tumbled forward, framing her expressive eyes—pools of dark chocolate filled with intelligence and a hint of mischief, just like Linsey. The most striking feature, however, was the unique white patch gracing her forehead.

“Her star is gorgeous,” Ashley murmured.

“You know horses?”

“A little.” She smiled at him. “Does that surprise you?”

He shrugged. “Not by much. What about riding? You can ride?”

“As much as any lady ought to.” Did she mention she had a secret? And within that secret was another. She couldn’t really ride like a lady ought to. Perhaps like a four-year-old child. She didn’t even own a riding habit. Winning his heart, however, might mean mucking about the stables and climbing atop a horse.

She could do that.

“Then we should go riding.”

What? Ashley inwardly grimaced. She could think of nothing worse, but her head was bobbing up and down before she knew it. “Shall we do it tomorrow?” The longer she could hold this off, the better. “I’m a bit weary from the trip. I’d also like to go into town sometime.”

He smiled. “I shall escort you.”

That wouldn’t do. She had to go purchase a riding habit. Her gaze fell on a riding crop beyond him hanging on the wall of the stables. Was that…?

He followed her gaze, and then glanced back at her again. “Don’t laugh.”

“It’s colorful.”

He strode over to the pink and yellow riding crop, tracing a finger over the leather. “I badgered my riding instructor to let me make my own when I was a child. This was the result.”

“Pink?”

“It was once red. It’s faded.”

Ashley laughed. “Well, at least it wasn’t meant to be pink, then. I suspect the yellow was meant to be orange?” It would coincide with the colors of the Linsey family crest.

He arched a brow. “Is there something wrong with pink?”

She tilted her head, considering him. “It just doesn’t suit the overall picture of you in my head.”

He folded his arms, leaning casually against the stable door. “And what picture is that?”

“A country gentleman who loves horses.”

He chuckled “Descriptive.”

Ashley smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I am detail-oriented that way.”

“Oh? Then what color would you associate with a country man that loves horses and country?”

“Blue,” she said without hesitation, striding over to take a closer look at the peculiar riding crop. “Like the sky. And maybe a bit of green. Perhaps brown boots and a belt?”

“These are the colors I attribute to the country, quite right.”

Ashley grinned, her gaze flicking back to him. “Your riding crop has become the summer sun with a pink sunset.”

“How generous. I shall take that as a compliment.”

Generous? In fact, Ashley wasn’t generous at all. She always called things exactly the way she saw them. Which was what Jordan had loved about her even when no one else, perhaps with the exception of her father, had.

Especially not her mother.

Her mother loathed her directness. She couldn’t stand when Ashley spoke her mind. She would always call for the smelling salts. As though that alone would make Ashley keep her mouth closed and her opinions to herself.

Even the way she poured tea vexed her mother. In fact, little did not. “Why don’t you hold the spout? Be careful that the lid of the pot doesn’t slide into the cup!” Ashley rolled her eyes.

She often wondered if her mother even loved her.

Ashley’s gaze flicked back to the horse and over the stables. It was a lot different than the stables they had slept in. They were bigger, but clean. She could tell the owner of these stables took great pride in them.

These stables were loved.

And this man who loved the stables, the horses, and even behaved freely with the staff was supposed to fall in love with her. He would love her, think that she’d be the mistress of all he held dear, and then… Ashley looked at him and blinked.

He was magnificent.

That’s a complication.

The truth was, she hadn’t been entirely silent on that journey because of the fatigue she’d claimed when they set forth that day. No, it was because every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel the solid warmth of his back pressed against hers. The sensation left her flustered, making her crave a little distance to regain her composure. She had felt a bit lighter after penning a note to her friends, inviting them to join her at Linsey’s estate. Once they arrived, they could serve as a barrier and a reminder that she mustn’t fall into her own trap.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

She blinked, realizing she had been staring. “I…about how clean you are.”

“What?”

Yes, what? Why had she just said that?

Her face flushed. “I mean, how clean your stables are. In correlation to you.”

His brows drew together in confusion.

Drat. She was making it worse. “I just mean your stables are clean, and so are you.”

His laughter rumbled through the stable. “Was that what caught your attention about me? That I was clean ?”

Your appearance, yes. Your dealings, not so much.

“Well, all women like cleanliness.”

“I love how we discuss cleanliness like strangers talking about the weather,” Linsey said, chuckling.

“Well, since we aren’t strangers, we might go a bit deeper than the topic of the weather,” Ashley replied, wishing she could just find a hole to crawl into.

“True enough. My father always said that a clean environment reflects the character of its caretaker.”

“He sounds like a wise man.”

The earl nodded absentmindedly. “He was.” His gaze swept the stables. “Many of these horses are his legacy.”

Ah, so that was why.

“If they are his legacy, why wager on them in the first place?”

Linsey rubbed his temples. “I never thought I could lose.”

“How delightfully arrogant.”

He nodded. “You are right, of course. I haven’t always made the best choices.”

With that, Ashley could agree. She wanted to ask what other reckless wagers he entered and what their dire consequences might have been, but she simply cleared her throat, dispelling the awkward tightening in her chest.

It wasn’t yet time.

It was almost amusing how blind he was to the chaos he’d created in her life. But now that arrogance would serve her purpose. She could use it to her advantage, to ensnare him in a web of her own making, a tangled trap that would lead to his downfall.

He might have won the wager he made with Jordan, but he would lose the gamble he’d taken on her.