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Authors: Wendy Soliman

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The morning at school passed in a satisfying blur of activity. When she returned home for luncheon she was able to do the meal justice. Maria spoke barely a word and Alicia suspected her ploy to engage His Grace’s attention had been scuppered. Of her uncle and the duke himself there was no sign, but she understood they were engaged in perusing the stud.

Frederick cornered Alicia in the small parlour immediately after luncheon.

“A word, coz, if you please.”

“Can’t it wait? I have things to do.”

“But I’ve waited all morning in the expectation of talking to you.”

“Oh, very well then.” Alicia took a seat and arranged her features into an expression which barely concealed her impatience. Frederick had probably got himself into some sort of scrape again and needed her to act as a go-between with his father. Unfortunately for him, she was not in an obliging mood today. “Why aren’t you with my uncle and His Grace? You are supposed to be the stud manager, after all.”

He shrugged. “They will do better without my interference.”

“Possibly, but it doesn’t create a good impression. Really, Frederick, you’re the laziest creature on God’s earth.”

“Never mind all that,” he said with an impatient flap of his hand. “I have something important to say to you.”

She sighed. “Then pray get on with it.”

“Well, look, the thing is, about your going to live in the village. There’s really no need for you to do it.”

“Thank you, but my mind’s quite made up on the matter.”

“But I don’t want you to go.”

“Heavens,” she said, lifting a brow. “You barely notice me when I’m here. Why should it concern you where I live?”

He was pacing the room, looking rather agitated. When he arrived at her chair he reached for her hand and crushed it in his own. “I’m making a bit of a mess of this.”

She frowned. “Of what, Frederick? What are you trying to say to me?”

“I’m trying to say I want you to stay here and become my wife.”

Alicia was conscious of her jaw dropping open. “What!”

“Yes, I dare say my declaration has come as a bit of a surprise.”

“More than that. It’s a complete shock.”

“But a pleasant one, I hope.”

Alicia didn’t trust herself to respond.

Clearly taking her silence as an affirmative, Frederick continued. “Only consider, Alicia, you’d be able to stay in the only home you’ve ever known and one day become its mistress.”

Alicia was consumed, not with the gratitude Frederick appeared to expect of her, but with an overwhelming desire to laugh. She held it in for as long as she could out of deference to Frederick’s imagined feelings for her, inflicting acute physical pain on her ribcage in the process. When he mistook her tears of mirth for those of pleasure she could control herself no longer.

“Oh, you’re priceless!” Gurgling laughter prevented her from saying anything more coherent.

“Well, really,” he said huffily, “I don’t know what’s so funny.”

“Sorry.” Alicia made a herculean effort to control herself. She’d offended Frederick at a time when he’d displayed uncharacteristic sensitivity. She really ought to beg his pardon. “It’s kind of you to offer for me, Frederick, but I don’t think we’d suit.”

He appeared openly astounded by her refusal. “Why ever not?”

“Well, you and I have absolutely nothing in common for a start. You care nothing for the stud, or for this house either. And since this is a situation which calls for plain speaking, you’ll forgive me for remarking that your only pleasure in life appears to be carousing with your friends. I couldn’t condone such behaviour in a husband. Besides,” she added, “we don’t love one another.”

“Perhaps not, but I’m monstrous fond of you, Alicia.”

“Not good enough, Frederick. I thank you for the honour of your proposal. Offering to sacrifice yourself so that I can remain at the Manor shows a delicacy of feeling I’d not realised you possess.”

Frederick looked almost relieved at her refusal. “Well, if you’re absolutely sure, that’s that then, I suppose.”

The door opened. Her uncle walked in and beamed at them both. “All settled between you then?”

“You knew about this?” It was Alicia’s turn to be astounded. Even if she’d been tempted to accept Frederick’s proposal, she would never have supposed her uncle would approve of the match. He was fiercely ambitious for his children, and there was nothing Alicia could do to further that ambition.

“Indeed, my dear. Am I to call you daughter, at last? You know I’ve always looked upon you as such.”

“Alicia has rejected me, Father.”

“What!” Woodley glared at her as though she’d taken leave of her senses. “No, that’s not possible.” He shook his head, his fierce expression gradually relaxing into a patronising smile. “You’ve made a complete mull of it, Frederick, and overset her sensibilities. Surely you expressed your admiration for your cousin and told her how highly you regard her, just as we disc—” He broke off, leaving Alicia wondering what he’d been about to say.

“Thank you, sir, but Frederick made his intentions perfectly plain. I am, however, serious in my rejection of his suit.”

“My dear, you’re in shock. You’ve not thought it through.”

“Indeed I have, Uncle. I thank you both for trying to protect me, but I’m determined to remove to the village as soon as I can. That being so, you may wave me away, both of you, with clear consciences.”

She thought it expedient to withdraw at that moment. Frederick and his father were arguing, voices raised, before she’d even left the room. Relieved to have escaped such an embarrassing scene, she didn’t look where she was going and bumped straight into the solidity of a male chest. A frisson of excitement rippled through her and she knew who it was before she even looked up into those piercing brown eyes. In spite of her best efforts to remain immune, her pulse quickened and her heart did a strange little flip.

“Listening at doors, Your Grace?” she remarked with a haughty lift of her brow which he’d have been hard-pressed to better himself. “Shame on you!”

Chapter Five

Nick couldn’t have torn his eyes away from Alicia’s retreating figure if his life had depended upon it. Quite why she fascinated him so comprehensively was a mystery to him. Her appearance was nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, she was the most unconventional female he’d ever encountered. Perhaps it was her apparent disinterest in making an impression upon him that held his attention. Whatever the reason, shards of intense sensation were still ricocheting through his body in response to its accidental contact with hers. The devil take it, this really wouldn’t do.

He was curious about the raised voices coming from the room Alicia had just vacated but didn’t linger for fear of being discovered lurking there for a second time. Instead he went in search of an occupation that would distract him from thoughts of Alicia. And keep him clear of her cousins. It was time to discover if Gibson had unearthed anything interesting whilst Nick had been touring the stud with Woodley.

But Gibson was nowhere to be found and Nick was obliged to kick his heels for a good half-hour before he deigned to put in an appearance.

“Where the devil have you been, Gibson?”

“I got held up,” he said unapologetically. “There was such delicious gossip below stairs I thought you’d prefer me to hear it all before reporting back.”

“Gossip about what precisely? And why should it interest me?”

“Gossip about the young lady wot’s got you so steamed up.” Gibson shrugged. “But if you ain’t interested—”

“I collect you mean Alicia Woodley.”

“Who else?”

“All right then, Gibson, out with it. What’s she done this time?”

“It ain’t her. It’s that cousin of hers, Frederick.”

“Is this a parlour game, Gibson?” Nick asked irritably when his servant’s voice trailed to a tantalising halt. “Am I to spend the afternoon trying to guess what the callow youth has done or will you have the goodness to enlighten me?”

“All right, there’s no need to get into such a dudgeon just ’cos the chit’s leading you a bit of a dance.” Gibson paused and drew a deep breath. “And you ain’t the only one she’s keeping dangling, by all accounts. It seems that Frederick Woodley just proposed marriage to the young lady.”

“The devil he has!”

“Ah,” Gibson said, observing him with a shrewd expression, “I thought you’d be interested.”

“So Woodley has actually offered for her, has he? I noticed that he holds the girl in some esteem but didn’t realise he was quite so badly smitten.” Nick attempted a casual shrug, wondering why the news should affect him quite so profoundly. If he wasn’t much mistaken, the alien emotion he was now experiencing was jealousy. “Well, she’ll be able to stay in the house she’s always called home and re-involve herself in the running of the stud. Her future is secure, which is a cause for rejoicing.”

“So why do you look like you’ve lost a guinea and found a farthing then?”

Why indeed?
“Once again you’ve overstepped the mark, Gibson, and I shall have to consider dismissing you.”

Gibson shrugged. “I suppose it would be good news for Miss Woodley if—”

“Although, I imagine Woodley senior won’t sanction the match.” Nick was ashamed when relief flooded through him. “He has ambitions for his children and Alicia’s in no position to further them.”

“You’re wrong about that. It seems the young cove proposed with his father’s prior knowledge and consent.”

“Ah, well, that’s that then.” Nick could feel a dark mood rapidly descending. He gave vent to his feelings by repeatedly kicking the curled corner of the rug beneath his feet.

“Not exactly.” Gibson paused dramatically. “You see, by all accounts, Miss Woodley turned her cousin down.”

“What?” Nick was overwhelmed with the desire to laugh. “Why would she do something so foolhardy?”

“It seems she don’t love her cousin and don’t approve of his lifestyle. She’d prefer to live quietly in the village rather than be tied to a man she don’t respect.”

“Well, that must have put the cat amongst the pigeons.”

“Our host is furious, by all accounts.”

“I heard them arguing in the parlour a little earlier. That would explain why.” Nick rubbed his chin. “I wonder what’s behind it all, Gibson. There’s something peculiar going on and I’d give much to know what it is.”

“Might involve horses.”

“Possibly, but I don’t see what that has to do with Miss Woodley.”

“What did you make of the stud? Did Woodley say why he invited you here?”

“The stud seems to be working smoothly enough. I could detect no obvious areas of neglect anyway. But it was impossible for me to quiz any of the grooms because they made themselves scarce wherever we went. I was barely able to direct a word to a single one of them without Woodley looking over my shoulder and intimidating them.”

“Aye, I’ve been trying to corner one or two of them but haven’t had any luck either. They all disappear when they see me approaching.” Gibson scowled. “It’s almost as though they’ve been given orders to avoid talking to me.”

“Strange. But at least I finally got to have a look at Shalimar.”

“And?”

“He’s magnificent but, apparently, overworked.”

“Wot, they only have one Hanoverian stallion standing here?”

“No, there are two more. But they don’t share Shalimar’s pure bloodlines and most of his clientele require their mares to be covered by Shalimar. There’s one more stallion available on the continent that’s Shalimar’s equal in purity of breed. He’s being offered for sale but the price they’re asking is ruinous.”

“And Woodley wants you to buy the beast, I suppose.”

“Yes. He candidly admits the price will be beyond him at present.”

“Why, if this place is doing as well as he makes out?”

“He
says
he’s incurred unforeseen expenses.”

“Hah, but—”

“So he took the decision to approach me with an offer of partnership because of my known interest in horses—”

“And because yer name will add considerable cachet to his business,” Gibson said with a cynical lift of his brows.

“Yes, undoubtedly.”

“I don’t get it, guv’nor.” Gibson scratched his head and took a moment to assemble his thoughts. “I reckon that a number of gents round these parts would jump at the chance to get involved.”

“Hmm, similar thoughts had crossed my mind, Gibson.”

“The Earl of Cambridge is virtually a neighbour. He’s known to have an interest in raising horses and certainly ain’t short of the blunt to purchase a good stallion. And I can think of others as would be more convenient for Woodley to go into partnership with.”

“True. There’s Lord Dawson. His estate isn’t five miles from here.”

“Well, there you are. Why go to all the trouble of getting you down here when he has any number of would-be sponsors on his doorstep?” Gibson scowled. “I don’t like it. It all comes back to his having something to hide.”

“And when you have something to conceal it’s easier to hide it from a partner who isn’t likely to drop in unannounced.”

“Exactly.” Gibson’s scowl gave way to an irrepressible grin. “Either that or it’s all quite innocent and they only chose you so Maria Woodley could get her claws into you.”

“Much good that will do her.” Nick barked a laugh. “I still recall the expression on her face this morning when her sister’s governess materialised and reminded her charge that her drawing tutor was engaged to call.”

“And then I dashed Maria’s plans by turning up and riding beside the curricle for the rest of the outing.” Gibson, too, was chuckling. “Someone really ought to point out to the chit that if she develops a habit for frowning so ferociously, she’ll finish up with wrinkles. Anyway, wot did you tell Woodley?”

“I displayed scant enthusiasm for the scheme, obviously.”

“But you didn’t turn him down. Why was that?”

“Because my curiosity is piqued. I want to know what he really requires of me.”

“And how will you find that out?”

“By procrastinating.”

“But I thought you were champing at the bit to get away from here.”

“And so I am. But another day or two will hardly signify.”

Gibson chuckled. “Another day or two in Alicia Woodley’s company won’t make any odds either.”

“You know how I dislike unsolved riddles, Gibson.”

“Aye.” Gibson smirked. “And I’m starting to learn just how much you dislike being ignored by a certain attractive female too.”

“Anyway, Mrs. Woodley is holding a party in my honour in two nights’ time. I can hardly leave before then.”

“I’ve never known such trivialities to deter you before now. Usually, when you’re bored, you just up and leave.”

Nick scowled at Gibson. “I’ve told Woodley that I require sight of the stud’s accounts before then.”

“Did he agree?”

“Yes, he said he anticipated that request. He’s sending word to his man of business to call with the books.”

“He should’ve had them here ready for you to inspect. Why’s he trying to stretch yer visit out?” Gibson grinned. “Perhaps he seriously thinks you’ll fall for that silly daughter of his.”

“He’s not the most intelligent of men but I hardly imagine he’s that mutton-headed.”

“Ah, well, if he’s hiding something it’ll show in the accounts.”

“Yes, provided we’re shown the correct set, of course. Still, I dare say they’ll make interesting reading.” A thought occurred to Nick. “I’ll see if I can find an opportunity to speak privately with Alicia during the course of the evening. She knows more about the running of the stud than just about anyone, even though she’s no longer actively involved. If she has concerns, perhaps I’ll be able to persuade her to share them with me.”

Gibson looked as though he wanted to make another of his ribald comments but, catching sight of the warning in Nick’s expression, he wisely held his tongue.

In any event Nick was unable to put his plan into action. Alicia had a headache and asked to be excused from the evening’s entertainment. He suspected she was merely steering clear of her uncle and cousin until the furore over Frederick’s rejected proposal died down. But the drawing room was a dull place without her. Maria Woodley launched a fresh assault to engage his attention, and it took all Nick’s ingenuity to avoid being drawn into her plans for an
al fresco
luncheon. He’d never before met such a tenacious female, and by the time he retired he was in an even worse temper than he’d been the evening before.

He avoided Maria the next day by paying an impromptu call on Lord Dawson, an old friend. He was surprised to learn that Dawson hadn’t been invited to attend the dinner Mrs. Woodley had arranged for neighbours the following evening. It could almost be construed as a snub, what with Dawson’s elevated social position.

“Don’t encourage his intimacy,” Dawson admitted when Nick questioned him about it.

“Any particular reason for that?” Nick swilled the burgundy round his glass before taking an appreciative sip. “I’d have thought the workings of the stud would interest you.”

Dawson was seated in a comfortable leather chair in front of a roaring fire in his library. He leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle, regarding Nick with an assessing gaze.

“They did when his brother was running it. I was in and out of the place all the time.” Dawson grinned. “His daughter was actively involved, which made visiting that much more pleasurable. She’s deuced attractive, don’t you know, in an unconventional sort of way.” Nick knew only too well but was careful not to be drawn into a discussion on the subject. “I didn’t feel the need to make an appointment like I do now and dropped in whenever I was passing.”

“You’re not welcome at Ravenswing Manor?” Nick didn’t attempt to hide his surprise. Dawson was hugely knowledgeable about horseflesh, as well as being a cultured and charming addition to any social gathering.

“This new chap is not quite the thing, if you want the truth.”

“In what respect?”

“Well, I don’t think he altogether understands what he’s about. But he won’t take advice from anyone who does.”

Nick nodded slowly. That rather confirmed what Alicia had implied. “He hasn’t tried to involve you in the business then?”

“Heavens, no. He’s very tight-lipped about the whole setup.” The gaze which Dawson levelled on Nick from beneath heavily hooded eyes was shrewd. “Surprised you took up his invitation, Nick, in all honesty.”

“I was bored.”

Dawson chuckled. “Lady Isabel getting too close?”

Nick frowned. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know all my damned business?”

Dawson lifted his shoulders, whether in apology or by way of explanation Nick was unable to decide. “My wife’s sister is here and she was in possession of all the particulars. Everyone knows you’ll need to marry soon and Lady Isabel
is
quite a catch.”

“Nothing has been decided yet.” Nick was appalled that his acquaintance should consider the union all but agreed upon. Lady Isabel’s connections must be spreading the rumour, hoping to galvanise him into action. It demonstrated just how poorly they understood his character if they thought to succeed through coercion.

“It’s about time you got yourself leg-shackled. No time for boredom then.” Dawson pulled a hard-done-by face. “Take it from one who knows.”

“There’s time enough yet.”

“If Lady Isabel don’t suit, then my sister-in-law’s a prime piece.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Nick shifted his position and accepted a refill from his host. “Any idea why Woodley is so short of blunt, Simon?”

“Mind my own business about your matrimonial ambitions, in other words.” Dawson chuckled. “Well, that’s me put in my place. All I will say, for what it’s worth, is that Lady Isabel is deuced attractive and you could do a damned sight worse.” He paused to savour his wine. “Anyway, let’s talk about Ravenswing Manor, since you insist. It was purchased by Woodley’s grandfather and is entailed through the male line.”

“And Woodley’s brother married well after he inherited.”

“Very well. The Earl of Lancaster’s only daughter, no less. Woodley’s father hadn’t managed the estate well. It was on the brink of going under, until Lancaster got involved. When he realised his new son-in-law had a way with horses, he suggested the stud and helped him get it off the ground.”

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