Page 58

Chapter

THIRTY

Bill was helping Guy saddle the horses by the time she reached the stables. “Good morning, Miss Travers. Are you ready for your morning ride?” The devil asked that with a completely straight face and a sinful twinkle in his eyes. “I know how much you like a good dawn gallop.”

“I do.” Although they both knew that he was referring to a very different sort of ride. The one that happened an hour ago just as the first glimmers of sunrise shone through her bedchamber window, and it hadn’t involved any horses.

“Fancy saddling up for an invigorating morning gallop, Valkyrie?” he’d asked in a sleepy, seductive voice as he had awoken and caught her propped on one arm watching him.

“I’m not ready to go riding just yet, Guy.” She’d traced his lips with her finger, hoping that would be enough to let him know what she was actually contemplating.

“That’s a shame,” he’d said, whipping off the blankets, his manhood pointing rigid. “Because I am.”

Then he’d taught her how to ride him until they had both collapsed into an exhausted heap on the bed.

And now they were here. Trying to act like two people who hadn’t spent the night nakedly entwined.

Baring both their bodies and their souls while they found oblivion.

“There is nothing more invigorating, is there, Lord Wennington?” She blew him a kiss as Bill bent to tighten the buckle beneath Juno’s belly and Guy pretended to catch it and slip it into his waistcoat near his heart just before his head groom straightened and eyed them with suspicion.

“Please tell me the pair of you don’t have plans for another race this morning?”

“No—I cannot speak for Miss Travers, but I’m still not over yesterday.” Guy’s lips twitched, so he spun on his heel to fetch Hercules, who was coming with them. “I am still worn out.”

She stifled a giggle because they hadn’t slept that much last night.

They had been too busy getting to know one another properly, talking in between their several bouts of lovemaking, rather than waste such a perfect night on sleep.

But while they had talked about their lives in intimate detail before they had met each other, everything from laughing over clumsy first kisses and youthful mistakes to the impact losing a parent had had on one another, in tacit unspoken agreement, they steered clear of any mention of their feelings for one another and their future.

Leaving Lottie as uncertain about the chances of them having one as she was before she had given herself to him.

But he had loved her body with such reverence that it had felt like he cared. Felt like he cared a great deal, in fact. The ever-optimistic side of her character hoped that meant that a few nights of passion weren’t all they would have.

But then again, the pragmatic, realistic side of her cautioned Lottie not to get her hopes up.

She hadn’t gone into last night expecting it to be the start of something beyond a night of passion.

And he had certainly given no hint that he wanted more from her than what he already had, or that he expected their…

affair, for want of a better word… to continue beyond the two days together that they had left.

Even today’s plan wasn’t fully formed. Nothing at all in fact was planned for them beyond the casual “I presume I shall see you in the stable yard shortly?” that he had asked as he had kissed her goodbye at her door.

Should she bring it up equally as casually on their ride?

Or would that spoil things today when it was something better put off until tomorrow?

Right now, with the sun on her face, an Arabian, and a handsome man awaiting her, and her sated body aching in all sorts of new but not unpleasant ways, Lottie wasn’t sure she was prepared to spoil this close-to-perfect morning at all.

Content to live in the moment for as long as possible until she ran out of them.

Guy returned, a contented half smile on his face that was just for her. “Where would you like to go?”

“Wherever you want to take me.” Because that was the truth.

The ball was in his court, after all. He would have to make the grand gesture because he was the viscount and she wasn’t the sort of woman to beg or trap him in a corner, no matter how much she loved him.

He either came willingly of his own accord or it wasn’t meant to be.

She had entered into their intimate relationship with her eyes open and no expectations of forever, no matter how much the idea of a forever with him filled her with…

excitement? Joy? Hope? With a serendipitous sense that he was precisely what her heart had been waiting for?

Besides, as the old adage said, it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, so if she did leave here in two days and that was that, then she would still treasure the memory of their time together.

“Do you fancy meeting some of my tenants then?” Not at all what she thought he was going to suggest when she had been contemplating somewhere quiet and secluded where they could rip each other’s clothes off again.

“See the real estate through the critical eyes of a farmer’s daughter rather than the visitor’s version curated by my mother?

” He kicked a stone gently with the toe of his boot, not meeting her eyes. “I would value your thoughts.”

“I should like to see it.” Which was true, she was curious—but still bemused by the offer when he must have known that she would let him have her again. As many times as he wanted before this thing between them had to end.

“Excellent.” He seemed relieved. “Excellent.” His eyes briefly flicked to hers, then back to his feet. “Then maybe we can work on Hercules together again? Seeing as you seem to have this magical touch with horses that nobody else possesses and the stubborn brute only listens to you.”

“Of course.”

“Good,” he said with an odd look in his eyes. “That will give us plenty of time to talk.”

“About what?” Did his suddenly serious intensity mean that he wanted to talk about them and the dreaded F -word that neither of them had yet acknowledged—their future? Butterflies flapped in her tummy at the prospect of one—or lack thereof.

“This,” he said, awkwardly flapping his hand between them. Brow furrowed. Eyes troubled. Posture as stiff as the trunk of the old oak tree behind them and not the least bit encouraging that “this” meant the same to him as it did to her.

Bill returned, and Guy’s uncomfortable expression shuttered.

“Do you two need a chaperone?” The head groom’s eyes twinkled and Guy’s cheeks colored.

“Haven’t you got a stable to see to?” Guy tugged Lottie’s elbow toward Juno and was about to help her up when a man she had never met before rode into the yard.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Jack,” Guy greeted the fellow with a surprised half smile and then immediately introduced them. “Lottie—this is Jack Foster, my estate manager. Jack, this is Miss Charlotte Travers. I was going to bring her to meet you in a bit but you’ve negated the need. Anything wrong?”

Jack tipped his hat politely, but his grave expression shouted that he had better things on his mind than making small talk with a stranger.

“I’m sorry to bother you, my lord. But this is an emergency.

” Guy’s spine instantly snapped to attention at that.

“Granger has got wind of all your negotiations behind his back and has gone on the attack. He’s summoned all the grain merchants for a secret meeting in Maidstone this morning.

I only got word of it just now.” He handed Guy a note.

“He’s going to try to convince them to form an alliance again to bring the prices we’ve already agreed upon down, hoping that the last-minute ultimatum now that the harvest is in will force our hand. ”

Guy scanned the missive and then crushed it in his fist, his postcoital awkwardness forgotten. “That bloody man!” He let out an angry grunt and then turned to her. “Forgive me, Lottie. But I need to go to Maidstone now!”

“Of course you do,” she said, disappointed not to have any time with him but understanding completely.

“You cannot let that money-grabbing merchant fleece all those farmers.” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if she could come with him.

To stand by his side and support him while he went into battle to rescue the livelihoods of those farmers who, like her father, he probably barely knew.

But it wasn’t her place to, especially after the uncomfortable and not so cryptic “this” he was at apparent pains to quantify, so she waved him off instead.

With nothing better to do, she helped Bill exercise the three Arabians in the training yard and then went back to her room.

She took her time getting changed and, at the usual allotted hour, went to Lady Frinton’s room to help her get ready for the morning, only to find her not there.

She was halfway down the stairs, ready to go to breakfast with all the other houseguests, when a footman approached.

“Miss Travers—Lady Wennington has asked to see you immediately in her private sitting room.”

Lottie happily went. Over the time she had been here, she had grown to like Guy’s friendly mother more and more.

Especially after their session with the cognac.

She had no reason to think that this summons was anything to worry about—until she entered the room, saw all the grim expressions, and felt the palpable chill in the air.

She expected Lady Frinton to be there with her sister, as they were practically inseparable, but she hadn’t expected either Lady Lynette or Miss Maybury to be present.

“I shan’t ask you to sit, Miss Travers, as this won’t take long.” Lady Wennington’s tone was clipped. “But it has been brought to my attention that your behavior is not that which can be tolerated in this house.”

Lottie swallowed, unsure of which behavior had offended. “I am afraid I am not sure what you are referring to, my lady.” She looked to her employer for some clue, but it was Lady Lynette who spoke.

“When my dear friend Miss Maybury mentioned to me yesterday that she was convinced she had witnessed a tryst between you and Lord Wennington, I took it upon myself to keep an eye on you. I have long suspected that you have always had an ulterior motive here as you have never behaved in any way as a proper servant should, but I never thought that you would dare stoop so low as to attempt to seduce and compromise a viscount into marriage.”

“I would never—”

Lady Lynette held up an imperious hand. “I saw him leaving your bedchamber this morning, Miss Travers. From my hiding place I witnessed you kiss him while you were scandalously wrapped in naught but a sheet. It was obvious that you had engaged in more than a kiss with one of your betters, you calculating harlot!”

There were a great many things Lottie wanted to take issue with in that, but her mind was whirring too fast to know which to tackle first.

“She’s been on a mission to seduce him all week!

” Miss Maybury had the nerve to appear shocked.

“She turns up at the stables every single morning to bother Lord Wennington, shameless in scandalous breeches! She almost shot poor Lady Lynette here with an arrow to dispense with her as competition and we all saw the way she constantly stared at him last night.” She pointed a quaking finger.

“The invitation to sin was as bold as brass in her eyes and it was obvious she intended to lure him in. She’s also done everything in her power to thwart the rest of us from gaining his affections at every juncture.

Forcing herself into the prime spots in carriages and at dinner, and constantly using her wiles to divert him from our company—like Delilah tempting Samson. ”

“Except the temple is about to fall around your ears, Miss Travers.” Lady Lynette looked at Lottie like she was something vile. “And you are about to properly learn your place. In my humble opinion, not before time too!”

“If I could say something…” Although Lottie had no earthly clue what to say to make this awful situation any better.

There were too many truths wrapped up in Lady Lynette’s and Miss Maybury’s lies for it not to look bad.

In desperation, she glanced at Lady Frinton, who had known that she and Guy were involved and had made it plain she thought it nobody else’s business, but the old lady turned her head away.

As if she was so disgusted, all of a sudden, that she couldn’t even look at her.

“The jig is up, Miss Travers, and your chickens have come home to roost.” Miss Maybury made no secret of the fact that she was enjoying Lottie’s discomfort. “You tried to snare yourself a viscount in the most underhanded manner and got found out.”

“Indeed,” added the awful Lady Lynette with some glee.

“Although did you honestly think that you could snare yourself a viscount in such an egregious fashion? Surely you realized that a man of his station was never going to want more from a woman of your station than a quick night of passion?” She feigned a laugh and looked Lottie up and down.

“A man of the stature of Lord Wennington was never going to marry a lowly, worthless servant like you.”

Lady Wennington raised a finger, her expression so bland in its obvious disappointment, and silence descended like a shroud that the older woman let hang for several long and painful seconds.

“You have brought my house into disrepute, Miss Travers. And in doing so have insulted both me, my family, and my illustrious guests. Fortunately, Lady Lynette and Miss Maybury are in agreement that the best way to deal with this is discreetly, and so none of the other impressionable young ladies here are aware of your improper behavior. Your things are being packed as we speak, and my sister’s carriage is being prepared to take you back to London. ”

“But—”

“There are no buts, Travers.” Lady Frinton held up her palm. Lottie’s fate apparently already decided. “If you go quietly and immediately, I shall pay you two months’ wages as severance and write you a good reference.”

“But—” Surely they did not expect her to go without saying goodbye to Guy? “Can’t I—” Lottie found herself speaking to the old lady’s palm again.

“If you do not, then you leave me no choice but to publicly condemn your actions as I throw you out, thus bringing shame on both your father’s and Miss Prentice’s houses too.”