Tessa's Touch (18 page)

The others agreed, and Anthony resisted the
urge to speak again on the subject. He hadn't missed the eagerness in Tessa's
eyes when the steeplechase had been mentioned, nor her apparent willingness to
do as Stormy suggested and ride for hire. He was determined to prevent her from
involving herself in either enterprise.

Still, it wouldn't do to display an obvious
interest in Tessa before the other sportsmen, not yet— particularly as he would
be bidding on her mare after dinner.

He was glad of that restraint later, when John
Bingle said to him, during the auction for Cinnamon, "You seem determined
to come away with that mare, Lord Anthony. Does that mean you've found a
companion for the remainder of the season?"

In seasons past, Anthony had gifted more than
one mistress with a mount, though he hadn't realized it was common knowledge.
Considering his plans for Cinnamon, he wasn't particularly pleased to discover
that.

"Not at all," he said dampeningly.
"I've been wanting to add some depth to my stable for some time. This mare
seems a good start."

"Ah. Good luck to you, then." And
Bingle turned to top Anthony's last bid.

In the end, Anthony had to pay just over eight
hundred pounds for Cinnamon, but he was content. He could scarcely wait to see
the expression on Tessa's face when he gifted her with the mare. Not that he
could do so immediately, of course —that would give rise to unwelcome talk,
given what Bingle had said. He wouldn't do anything that would pose the
slightest risk to Tessa's reputation.

No, he would wait for . . . Yes, of course. The
vague plans that had been circling in his brain for the past few days suddenly
crystalized.

He would give her the horse as a wedding gift.

Startled by his own thoughts, he stared into
space for a moment, waiting for his usual, instinctive revulsion to the idea of
matrimony to assert itself. Instead, he felt a sense of rightness, even
inevitability. Mesmerized by this sudden shift in his thinking, he at first did
not hear Thor speaking to him.

"—hurry to leave," he was saying.

Anthony shook his head sharply, bringing his
friend into focus. "What? Who?"

Thor grinned. "You seemed miles away —and
at some pleasant place, judging by that smile on your face."

"Yes, a most pleasant place," Anthony
agreed. "But you were saying?"

"I was just observing that Emery seemed in
a hurry to leave once he had your money in hand. Stopped to talk to that gent
there, then headed straight for the door. Bad form, if you ask me." The
big man shook his head with a frown.

Anthony followed his gaze. "That gent, you
say? Who is he?"

Thor shrugged. "He wasn't at the meet
today, nor at dinner. Didn't arrive until the auctions were nearly over, in
fact. Local fellow, I think. Saw him last year at a meet or two. Hightop?
Something like that."

"Hilltop?" Anthony asked with a sense
of foreboding.

"Aye, that's it. At least, I think that's
it. I see Rush has ordered another bottle. Let's go help him drink it, shall
we?"

"Of course," Anthony said
mechanically. Mr. Hilltop would hardly have made a point of telling Mr. Mercer
that his niece hadn't been to dine at his house, he reminded himself. No reason
to think either one of them would have mentioned Tessa, in fact.

He sat down with his friends, who toasted his
acquisition of the new mare, joining in their talk about the next meet they
planned to attend. Not until they were leaving for Ivy Lodge an hour or two
later did he think of Mr. Hilltop again.

For a moment he frowned, but then shrugged. If
the worst occurred and it was discovered Tessa had not been at the Hilltops'
Friday night, it would only speed the decision he'd made tonight. And perhaps
that would be no bad thing, he thought, remembering again the softness of
Tessa's lips beneath his own.

He would make her an offer this very week, he
decided, gripped by a sudden eagerness to taste those lips again —and more.
Then discovery, if it came, would not matter. Nor would she need to put herself
at risk in a steeplechase or take other men's money for her riding. Yes, it was
an admirable solution.

* *
*

Tessa and her father had just finished
breakfast in the parlor the next morning when a knock came at the front door. Startled,
Tessa rose and went out, reaching the top of the stairs just as Griffith opened
the door to reveal Lord Anthony —alone.

"Good morning," he called out,
spotting her at the same moment. "I have a favor to ask of you and your
father, if I might come up?"

She nodded to Griffith, who preceded Lord
Anthony up the stairs so that he could properly introduce the visitor before he
entered the parlor.

"Lord Anthony," Sir George exclaimed.
"What a pleasant surprise this is. I assumed you would be at the Cottesmore
meet this morning."

Anthony bowed, first to Sir George and then to
Tessa, holding her gaze with his until she felt herself beginning to color.
"I will ride with the Belvoir tomorrow, but today I thought to do
something a bit more productive —and I have come to beg Miss Seaton's
assistance, if you will allow it, sir."

"Assistance?" Sir George echoed
Tessa's thoughts. "What sort of assistance, my lord?"

"As you may recall, I recently acquired a
gelding that once resided in your stables —the horse I originally came here to
ask about. I am attempting to improve his manners, but I feel sure I would make
more headway with Miss Seaton's help, as she already knows the horse."

"He means Zephyr, Papa," Tessa said.
"Please—"

But Sir George was frowning. "Yes, yes, I
know what horse he means. A chestnut, sold to a fellow named Ballard. Though at
the time you pretended to be interested in purchasing another beast from us, as
I recall," he said with a sharp glance at Anthony.

Tessa blinked at her father's easy recollection
of the details of that earlier conversation. She hadn't thought he'd paid such
close attention.

"I was not precisely pretending,"
Anthony said with a grin, "though that was not the primary motive for that
visit." He slid a glance at Tessa and she remembered how worried she'd
been at the time that he would reveal her secret. She felt no such worry now.

"Papa, I would very much like to assist
Lord Anthony in this." She turned her most beseeching gaze upon her
father. "He was most forbearing, you know, given that the horse was not
fully trained when Uncle Mercer sold it. I feel we owe it to Lord Anthony to
ensure as far as possible that he does not suffer from his generosity in buying
Zephyr from Mr. Ballard."

Though he still frowned, Sir George nodded slowly.
"I do see your point, Tessa, but I cannot feel it is proper for you to go
to this gentleman's stables to work with his horses when—"

"I assure you that propriety will be
preserved, sir," Lord Anthony broke in. "Lady Killerby is at the
house, and there are any number of grooms and stable lads about the stables.
Indeed, Lady Killerby insisted that Miss Seaton take tea with her during the
course of the morning, could I prevail upon her to come."

Sir George's brow cleared. "Did she
indeed? Dear Lily, how kind she is. In that case, Tessa, I suppose it will be
all right, provided you do not spend
too
much time at the stables."

"She need not spend any time there, Sir
George, now I think on it, for I can have the horse brought round to the front
lawn and we can work with him there —in full view of the house. Really, all I
seek is Miss Seaton's advice and presence," he added with another glance
at Tessa. "I would never expect her to do any of the dirty work of
training."

She opened her mouth and then closed it, realizing
that to protest that she enjoyed the "dirty work," as he put it,
would do her case no good with her father.

"Very well," said Sir George, making
her glad she'd held her tongue. "That will serve nicely, I believe. Pray
thank Lady Killerby for her hospitality, as I know Tessa will do as well.
Really, we must return it, and soon."

"Thank you, Papa," Tessa said, giving
her father a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I will run upstairs and
change into something suitable for a few hours outdoors, and be ready to go in
a few moments."

"No hurry," said Anthony equably,
dropping into an armchair near the fire. "Your father and I can talk
hunting until you return."

Tessa did hurry, nonetheless, for she was more
than eager to show Lord Anthony that she could be of help— more help than he
expected, in fact. Of course, she also wanted to see Zephyr again, she reminded
herself as Sally buttoned her into a peach wool day dress that was loose enough
in the skirt to allow for riding, but demure enough for a tea indoors as well.
Snatching up her brown pelisse and matching bonnet, she ran back down to the
parlor.

"My, that was quick, Tessa," her
father said as she entered. "Why, Lord Anthony had barely begun telling me
his version of yesterday's hunt."

"I'm sure it would not have varied
substantially from what I told you last night," she assured him. "But
perhaps you will have a chance later to continue your talk?" She glanced
at Anthony, who had already risen.

"Of course," he said. "I will be
happy to pick up where we left off when I bring Miss Seaton home this
afternoon."

"Very well, very well, off with you
both," said Sir George with a chuckle and a wave of his hand. "I'll
also be eager to hear what sort of progress you make with the chestnut."

Tessa waited until they were out of the house
to say, "You handle him very well, you know. Thank you."

Anthony smiled down into her eyes, making her
breath quicken. "Your thanks make every little effort worthwhile —though
in truth I find it no real effort at all. I quite like Sir George."

"I believe the feeling is mutual, my
lord," she said primly, though her lips twitched with what she really
wished to say. He handed her into the waiting carriage with a smile that told
her he understood.

After a few moments, she commented, "It
feels odd to ride in a carriage rather than on horseback."

"Does it? I thought your father might find
it more, ah, proper. Do you always go on horseback when visiting or
shopping?"

She nodded. "We sold our carriage four or
five years ago, as Papa could no longer use it. On the rare occasions that I go
into the village or to Melton-Mowbray to shop, I generally have my purchases
delivered or send Griffith with the farm cart."

"Was it your uncle's idea to sell the
carriage?" he asked, glancing out at the passing countryside.

"Yes, but I agreed." She stopped
herself short of admitting that they'd needed the money and could not justify
the expense of keeping a carriage and coachman when there was barely enough to
pay the few servants they had retained.

He turned to look at her. "I see," he
said, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he saw much more than she
would like. "Perhaps, now that Sir George has shown he is capable of
visiting, you may wish for one again. I'll keep an eye out for something
suitable."

"Thank you," she said, knowing they
could never afford one. How limiting it was to have money problems. She really
must discuss the idea of riding other gentlemen's horses with her uncle.

He put a hand over hers. "Tessa, please
don't worry. If you'll let me, I'd like to solve all of your problems."

She stared at him, her heart thudding in her
chest at his nearness, the masculine scent of him in the enclosed carriage.
"I . . . I don't see how you can do that," she stammered. What,
exactly, was he suggesting?

As if in answer, he leaned closer and covered
her lips with his own. She felt as if she'd been waiting for this forever
—certainly she'd been wanting his kiss again since the last, brief one they'd
shared three days ago, when she'd walked him to the door. Now she melted into
him, losing herself in the illusion that this was right, natural, and something
she deserved always.

His lips moved over hers, coaxing more from
her. She slid her hands up his shoulders, clinging to him for support —not from
the swaying carriage, but from the storm of her own feelings. Obligingly, his
arms went around her, pulling her securely to him, enfolding her with a welcome
sense that she was cherished, protected. At that moment, she believed he really
could solve her problems, that she could lean on him for anything.

The carriage slowed and he released her, with
obvious reluctance. "I suppose I shouldn't have done that," he said,
"but I can't say I'm sorry I did."

Tessa felt herself flushing crimson. What must
he think of her, giving in to his caresses without hesitation, responding so
eagerly to his kiss? "I'm . . . I . . ."

"Didn't I tell you not to worry?" he
said gently as the carriage came to a stop in front of Ivy Lodge. "Let me
take care of you, Tessa, please."

Still confused, she took a shaky breath. She
didn't want to ask, but she had to. "Are . . . are you asking me to be
your mistress?" She was shocked to realize it was a tempting prospect.