Laura absorbed the sobering information without comment. She knew there was more, or Tara wouldn’t be having this conversation with her.
“To be honest, Laura,” Tara sat forward, clasping her hands together in an earnest pose, “Max thinks it’s possible that Sebastian might be desperate enough to marry someone—anyone—with money. And he’s concerned that Sebastian might have set his sights on you.”
“What do
you
think?” Laura asked, stalling for time while she tried to understand her own reaction to the information.
“I think it’s entirely possible that he has,” Tara replied frankly. “But I also know that you are much too intelligent to be taken in by a fortune hunter.”
But the unsolicited vote of confidence didn’t make Laura feel better. Suddenly tense and restless, she surrendered to the need for action and rose from the chair. Resisting the urge to pace, she walked over to the bed and picked up the dress she had flung onto it.
“I wonder what he was doing in Rome,” she mused aloud, as she slipped the dress on a hanger and carried it to the wardrobe closet. “Do you suppose he went there to see if the
contessa
would loan him the money?”
“Who’s to say?” Tara shrugged off the question. “If he did, I doubt that he was successful. The count is notoriously tightfisted, and the
contessa
has very little funds of her own.”
Laura had no reason to question the certainty in Tara’s voice. Tara was rarely wrong about such things. And it was unlikely that Max was, either.
“Are you all right, Laura?”
She spun around. At the last second, she managed to bite back the sharp retort she had been about to make and smiled instead. “I’m fine.” The lie came smoothly. “Why shouldn’t I be? After all, I hardly know the man. It’s unfortunate that he’s in such a difficult financial situation, but it doesn’t have anything to do with me. And after what you’ve told me, you can be sure that it won’t.”
“Of course.” A look of fresh ease claimed Tara’s countenance, brightening her eyes and relaxing her smile. “I guess I was worried that you might have become a bit fond of him.”
“A handsome devil like him, of course I have.” Laura made the breezy admission without hesitation. “Who wouldn’t?” She pulled open a bureau drawer and took out her nightgown and matching robe.
Tara laughed. “You’re absolutely right,” she said, clearly reassured that there was no reason for any concern. “Just the same, I feel better now that you know about this.”
“True,” Laura agreed in a deliberately casual tone of voice. “As the old saying goes, ‘to be forewarned is to be forearmed.’ ”
“That’s exactly the way I looked at it,” Tara replied and straightened from the chair. “Are you still going riding with him in the morning?”
“Of course. You don’t think I’m going to pass up the chance to gallop across the country, do you? It’s been much too long since I’ve been on the back of a horse. That’s the one thing about the ranch that I do miss.”
“Just make sure you don’t get thrown. Your mother would have my head if anything happened to you.”
“Not if it happened on a horse. That’s something she would understand.”
“You’re probably right.” Tara glanced at the nightclothes in Laura’s hands. “I’ll say good night and let you get ready for bed.”
“See you in the morning.” Laura worked to sound casually offhand.
But the minute the door closed behind Tara, Laura dropped all pretense that nothing was wrong. Giving rein to the turbulence within, she tossed the robe and nightgown on a chair and crossed to a window. She stared into the night-darkened landscape, indifferent to the scattering of stars and the leafy silhouettes of the trees.
Hurt, that was what she felt. Laura tried to remember the last time she had been genuinely hurt by someone, but couldn’t.
She was stunned to discover that she felt like crying. Pride wouldn’t let her give in to tears. Instead she went straight to the private bath and stood beneath the shower spray until the feeling went away.
Chapter Seven
“E
xcuse me, miss.” The strange voice seemed to come from someplace far away. Yet there was something insistent about it that penetrated Laura’s consciousness.
She rolled over in bed and struggled to throw off the heaviness of sleep. Her eyes focused with difficulty on the elderly woman in a maid’s uniform walking past her bed, carrying a tray laden with a coffee service.
“His Lordship asked me to bring you coffee.” She set the tray on a table in the sitting area. “There’s a basket of pastries on the tray as well. If you’re going horseback riding this morning, you’ll be needing some food in your stomach.” She turned back toward the bed. “If you want something more hearty, breakfast will be served in the morning room.”
“No, thanks,” Laura mumbled, rousing herself with an effort.
“As you wish, miss,” the maid acknowledged and bustled from the room.
Laura remained in bed as the events of the previous night came flooding back to her. The memories left her with a heavy feeling. At the same time they hardened something inside her. She threw off the covers, climbed out of bed, grabbed the robe off the foot of the bed, and went directly to the breakfast tray to pour herself that first, bracing cup of coffee. If she felt any lingering sadness, she had pushed it deep inside.
Dressed in riding breeches, boots, and a long-sleeved blouse, Laura descended the stairs an hour later. A black bow held her hair securely against the nape of her neck, and she had a sweater tied around her waist in the event the morning air was crisp.
The butler stepped into the entrance hall and nodded a polite “good morning” to her. “A hot breakfast is being served in the morning room, miss.”
“Will I find Sebastian there?”
“No. I believe he’s at the stables, miss.”
“How do I get there?”
Grizwold hesitated. “The route is a bit confusing,” he began with a trace of uncertainty. “I have other duties that require my immediate attention, or I would be happy to show you the way. Perhaps it would be best if you waited out front. His Lordship will be bringing the horses there directly.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.” Laura continued to the front door and stepped into the sharp spring morning. It was the first time she had ventured outside since their arrival. She ran a glance over the ocher-colored walls of the massive country manor.
It hadn’t been that many years ago when her own house, The Homestead, had undergone a major restoration and renovation that had encompassed everything from replacing weakened support timbers and old electrical wiring to a new plumbing and heating system, as well as the addition of two new wings. At the time, her mother had remarked, “I swear it costs more to fix an old house than it does to build a new one. We would have been dollars ahead if we’d torn it down and started from scratch.”
By nature, her family was conservative. It was a trait that had rubbed off on Laura, enabling her to understand Sebastian’s situation, both current and future. But understanding changed nothing.
The rhythmic cadence of trotting hooves on brick pavement echoed through the morning air. Laura turned toward the sound as Sebastian rounded the corner, astride a big, bald-faced bay and leading an iron gray hunter. He flashed her that familiar lazy smile, and her reaction to him was the same as it had always been—a quickening of her pulse and a thrilling of her nerve ends.
He slowed both horses to a walk and halted near her. “This is unexpected. I thought I might have to pry you away from your morning coffee.”
“You thought wrong,” Laura informed him with a saucy look and stepped to the head of the gray horse. “This is a beautiful boy.” The horse buried its velvety nose in her hand and nuzzled her open palm. “Is he for me?”
“He is,” Sebastian confirmed. “Since you are from the West, I took you at your word that you’re a skilled horsewoman.”
“I am. If you can put a saddle on it, I can ride it,” Laura stated without an ounce of brag. “What’s his name?”
“Hannibal.” He passed the gray’s reins to Laura and started to swing out of his saddle. “I’ll give you a leg up.”
“I can manage.” For reasons of her own, Laura wanted to avoid any physical contact with him just now. With the reins looped over the gray’s neck, she grabbed hold of the flat English saddle and stretched a toe into the iron stirrup and pulled herself onto the saddle.
“I had to guess at the stirrup length,” Sebastian warned.
“It’s almost right,” she said and went to work shortening the stirrups by one more notch. “That’s the advantage of an English saddle over a western one—it’s easy to change from the saddle.”
“All set?” he asked when she had finished.
“Ready and eager, I’d say,” Laura replied as the gelding shifted restlessly under her and pushed at the bit.
Sebastian pointed his horse down the lane and set off. With reluctance, Laura’s mount settled into a collected trot alongside him. A short distance from the house, Sebastian swung his horse between two trees. A pasture stretched before them, an open invitation for a gallop. Neither horse required urging.
There was a sense of rightness to the steady drum of hooves, the whip of the wind in her face, and the feel of a horse beneath her that soothed and invigorated both at the same time. Used to the limitless expanse of the Calder range, Laura looked with regret at the low stone wall that marked the pasture boundary. She followed suit when Sebastian checked his mount to a canter.
“Want to jump the wall?” His eyes sparkled with an unspoken dare.
“Do birds fly?” She shot a laughing smile his direction and sent her horse toward the wall.
Its gray ears pricked forward, signaling its awareness of the obstacle before them. Laura readied the gelding for the jump, felt the gathering of its haunches and the adrenaline rush that came when they took to the air, sailing over the low wall. They landed well clear and galloped on.
Within seconds, she heard the pounding hooves of Sebastian’s horse behind her. When he drew level with her, he signaled for Laura to follow him. They galloped across another pasture, jumped a brook and a wide gate, and arrived at a narrow country road, empty of traffic. Both reined their horses down to a walk.
“I needed that,” Laura declared and released a contented sigh.
“I thought you might.” His glance made an assessing study of her, noting the flush of excitement that gave a glow to her face. “You looked a bit distracted earlier, as if you’d hit a spot of heavy weather.”
“I’m never at my best first thing in the morning,” Laura said, deliberately making light of his observation.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” The hint of intimacy in his twinkling eyes had its usual disturbing effect on her. But along with the sensual rush she experienced, there was also a pang that was anything but normal for her.
Other than allowing a small smile to play across her lips, Laura made no reply to his comment and focused instead on the cottage that fronted the road just ahead of him. A milk cow emerged from a shedlike structure next to it, followed by an older gentleman in boots and work clothes.
“Good morning, Mr. Frohme,” Sebastian greeted him. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is, sir,” the man boomed, his glance sliding curiously to Laura. “Certainly a fine one to be taking your lady for a ride.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I wish she were my lady.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to retort, “It’s my money you want, not me.” But this wasn’t the time or the place for that, so Laura smiled instead and said nothing.
“Give my regards to your wife,” Sebastian said to the man. “And I should warn you that Helen mentioned she needs a fresh supply of honey, so I expect she’ll be paying you a visit this weekend.”
“Home for the weekend, is she? The missus and I will look forward to seeing her.”
“They raise honey, do they?” Laura remarked idly after they had ridden past the cottage.
“The best in the Cotswolds,” Sebastian confirmed, then smiled wryly. “Or, as Helen would say, the finest from Frohme’s. She has a fondness for alliterative phrases.” After only the smallest break, he continued, “There’s a lovely stretch of river ahead of us. Shall we ride along it?”
“Sounds wonderful.” Both horses moved into a trot.
Tara sailed into the sunny breakfast room and cast a cheerful smile at the trio gathered around the table. She was dressed simply in a silk blouse and tan slacks, but it was the tasteful addition of jewelry that gave her the look of country elegance.
“Good morning, all.” she said in greeting.
Max had his face buried in the financial section of the
London Times.
He lowered it long enough to grunt a disinterested response, then snapped it back into place. Boone simply nodded.
Helen was the only one to offer an actual response. “Good morning. You slept well, I hope.”
“I did indeed.” Tara confirmed and sat down in the chair that the butler had readied for her. Immediately he shook out the folded napkin and placed it across her lap. “Don’t tell me I’m the last one up.”
“Not quite.” Finished with his breakfast, Boone picked up his coffee cup. “Laura isn’t down yet.”
“She isn’t?” Tara repeated in surprise. “How odd. I heard her stirring about long before I ever got out of bed.”
“I wonder where she is,” Boone mused, his forehead creasing with a slight frown.
“Didn’t you know?” Helen gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence. “She and Sebastian went riding this morning.”
“No, I didn’t know,” he replied, his mouth tightening with displeasure.
Max lowered the newspaper to glare at Tara. “Didn’t you have a talk with her last night?”
“Yes, I—”
Boone never gave her an opportunity to complete her sentence as he turned his hard gaze on Helen. “How long have they been gone?”
“Perhaps a half to three-quarters of an hour. Wouldn’t you say, Grizwold?” She looked to the butler for confirmation.
“About that, yes ma’am.”
“Where would they have gone?” Boone pressed for more information.
“I expect Sebastian would have probably taken her riding over the countryside.” Helen buttered a slice of toast and lifted a curious glance to him. “Why? Were you thinking of joining them?” She instantly followed that question with another. “Do you ride? Of course you do,” she said, shaking her head in self-reproach. “For a minute I had forgotten you have a ranch in Texas. I’m surprised Sebastian didn’t ask you to join them.”
“I’m not,” Boone countered in a flat, hard voice.
“That oversight is easily rectified,” Helen assured him, a pleasant smile curving her lips. “If you like, I can take you riding.”
“Do you think we could find Laura and your brother?” he challenged.
Helen paused a moment to consider the matter. “Springtime rather limits the routes he can take. Farmers take a dim view of riders galloping across the crop fields,” she explained. “I should say it’s likely we would come across them somewhere.”
“Good.” Boone removed the napkin from his lap and laid it on the table and pushed his chair back. “Let’s go, then.”
Helen glanced at the butler. “Grizwold, will you phone the stables and have two horses saddled for us while I go up and change into my riding clothes?”
“Right away, ma’am.” He directed a half-bow in her direction and left the room.
“It shouldn’t take me more than a few minutes to change. By then the horses should be saddled,” she told Boone. “Shall we meet in the front hall?”
“Fine,” he agreed, his impatience showing at even this slight delay.
The angle of the sun’s rays created a diamond sparkle on the river’s surface. Something rustled the underbrush on the opposite bank. Laura’s gray hunter snorted and stepped lightly, eyeing the area with suspicion. But the twittering of a bird in the branches of a nearby tree seemed to offer assurance that there was no danger lurking in the deep shadows.
Just ahead of them the riverbank dipped down to the water’s edge, forming a natural ford. Sebastian glanced back at Laura. “We’ll stop here and give the horses a drink.”
“All right.”
When they reached the flattened area, Sebastian was first out of the saddle. He held the gray’s bridle while Laura dismounted. Side by side, they led the horses to the water and stood to one side while the animals lowered their noses to the water.
“This is a restful spot, isn’t it?” Sebastian let his gaze wander over the area before sliding it to her.
“It is,” Laura agreed. “Beautiful and serene.”
“It’s always been a favorite place of mine. I used to come here often when I was a boy, just to get away and be by myself, especially when Charlie and Helen teamed up to razz me.”
“Who’s Charlie?” Laura asked, although she was fairly certain she knew the answer.