hunt," he said,
drawing Faro up next to her, for she was looking distressed.
She gave a strained little laugh. "I know.
And I know foxes are pests, killing poultry and such, but this will never be my
favorite part of the hunt, I fear. A noble beast that gives us such sport would
seem to deserve a better reward."
"I've never thought of it like that,"
Anthony confessed. "If it's any comfort, I've been to many a meet where
the fox has escaped in the end. No one seemed to mind, as long as we had a good
run out of it."
"Thank you," she said, and her smile
now seemed genuine. "It does help to know that the fox has a sporting
chance."
Anthony was struck again by the beauty of her
wide brown eyes, the smoothness of her skin and the rich honey color of her
hair, peeping beneath her hat and veil. "You have an affinity with more
than just horses, I see."
She blinked, as though uncertain how to take
his words. "I suppose so, though horses are what I've always been closest
to. My mother—" she broke off and glanced away.
Remembering Porrington's ill-natured remark, he
changed the subject. "My friend, Lord Killerby, seems determined to buy
your hunter."
"Several others have expressed interest as
well, according to my uncle. The final price may be high." Was she trying
to give him ammunition to discourage Killer?
"He can afford it," Anthony said,
trying to gauge her expression, "but I hope he won't be sorry."
She met his gaze for an instant, then looked
away again. "Nimbus is an excellent hunter, as you've seen yourself
today."
"With you mounted on him, at least."
Was that a flash of alarm in her half-averted eyes? "Should he get a bad
deal, I'd probably encourage him to speak to your father," he warned her.
He'd expected a reaction, but not the mixture
of fear and anger in the face she now turned toward him. "I beg you will
do no such thing! A gentleman stands by his bargains, my lord. But if there is any sort of a problem, I would ask that your
friend come to my uncle, or to me. My father's health is poor and I'll not have
him bothered by such things."
"My pardon," he murmured, realizing
he'd somehow hit a sensitive spot. "Sir George did not seem so feeble to
me, for all he is crippled."
"No. No, I suppose not," she said,
visibly reining in her anger. "It is his heart, you see. The doctor says
it is not strong, so we strive to shield him from unnecessary upsets." Her
lower lip trembled.
Anthony felt an overwhelming urge to reassure
her, to offer her his help in some way, though he had no idea how. That lip
looked so vulnerable, so . . . delectable. Firmly, he checked that train of
thought and wondered what else they might be shielding Sir George from. The
sagging roof, perhaps?
His intense curiosity about her situation
sounded another warning in him. "My apologies, Miss Seaton. I will direct
Lord Killerby to speak to your uncle if he has any questions. And now, I see
Mr. Emery coming this way, so I will take my leave of you. Dare I hope I will
see you at another meet this season?"
She glanced quickly toward her uncle with an
expression he couldn't read. "I hope so," she said, "though that
will be up to the hunt masters. Good day, Lord Anthony."
With that, she wheeled the magnificent bay and
went to meet Mr. Emery, who would presumably be taking Nimbus with him into
Melton tonight, where any auctions and sales would take place. Anthony watched
her go with mingled regret and relief, fully aware that he was beginning to
enjoy Miss Seaton's company rather too much.
* *
*
CHAPTER 4
"How are you, my dear, and how was the
meet?" Sir George greeted Tessa upon her return. "Come, have a seat
and tell me all about it. I've already rung for tea, as dinner is still more
than an hour off. No doubt you are famished, as I always was after a good day's
run."
Though she was already stiffening alarmingly,
Tessa could not help smiling at her father's eagerness. "Will a brief
summary do for now? I very much need to wash and change
drawing Faro up next to her, for she was looking distressed.
She gave a strained little laugh. "I know.
And I know foxes are pests, killing poultry and such, but this will never be my
favorite part of the hunt, I fear. A noble beast that gives us such sport would
seem to deserve a better reward."
"I've never thought of it like that,"
Anthony confessed. "If it's any comfort, I've been to many a meet where
the fox has escaped in the end. No one seemed to mind, as long as we had a good
run out of it."
"Thank you," she said, and her smile
now seemed genuine. "It does help to know that the fox has a sporting
chance."
Anthony was struck again by the beauty of her
wide brown eyes, the smoothness of her skin and the rich honey color of her
hair, peeping beneath her hat and veil. "You have an affinity with more
than just horses, I see."
She blinked, as though uncertain how to take
his words. "I suppose so, though horses are what I've always been closest
to. My mother—" she broke off and glanced away.
Remembering Porrington's ill-natured remark, he
changed the subject. "My friend, Lord Killerby, seems determined to buy
your hunter."
"Several others have expressed interest as
well, according to my uncle. The final price may be high." Was she trying
to give him ammunition to discourage Killer?
"He can afford it," Anthony said,
trying to gauge her expression, "but I hope he won't be sorry."
She met his gaze for an instant, then looked
away again. "Nimbus is an excellent hunter, as you've seen yourself
today."
"With you mounted on him, at least."
Was that a flash of alarm in her half-averted eyes? "Should he get a bad
deal, I'd probably encourage him to speak to your father," he warned her.
He'd expected a reaction, but not the mixture
of fear and anger in the face she now turned toward him. "I beg you will
do no such thing! A gentleman stands by his bargains, my lord. But if there is any sort of a problem, I would ask that your
friend come to my uncle, or to me. My father's health is poor and I'll not have
him bothered by such things."
"My pardon," he murmured, realizing
he'd somehow hit a sensitive spot. "Sir George did not seem so feeble to
me, for all he is crippled."
"No. No, I suppose not," she said,
visibly reining in her anger. "It is his heart, you see. The doctor says
it is not strong, so we strive to shield him from unnecessary upsets." Her
lower lip trembled.
Anthony felt an overwhelming urge to reassure
her, to offer her his help in some way, though he had no idea how. That lip
looked so vulnerable, so . . . delectable. Firmly, he checked that train of
thought and wondered what else they might be shielding Sir George from. The
sagging roof, perhaps?
His intense curiosity about her situation
sounded another warning in him. "My apologies, Miss Seaton. I will direct
Lord Killerby to speak to your uncle if he has any questions. And now, I see
Mr. Emery coming this way, so I will take my leave of you. Dare I hope I will
see you at another meet this season?"
She glanced quickly toward her uncle with an
expression he couldn't read. "I hope so," she said, "though that
will be up to the hunt masters. Good day, Lord Anthony."
With that, she wheeled the magnificent bay and
went to meet Mr. Emery, who would presumably be taking Nimbus with him into
Melton tonight, where any auctions and sales would take place. Anthony watched
her go with mingled regret and relief, fully aware that he was beginning to
enjoy Miss Seaton's company rather too much.
* *
*
CHAPTER 4
"How are you, my dear, and how was the
meet?" Sir George greeted Tessa upon her return. "Come, have a seat
and tell me all about it. I've already rung for tea, as dinner is still more
than an hour off. No doubt you are famished, as I always was after a good day's
run."
Though she was already stiffening alarmingly,
Tessa could not help smiling at her father's eagerness. "Will a brief
summary do for now? I very much need to wash and change
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