Tessa's Touch (32 page)

"You can trust Quinn," Marcus said,
"for she's an exceptional rider herself —but even she wouldn't try to sit
this brute."

Tessa kept her eyes on the gelding, gauging his
mood, examining his lines. He would be fast, she thought, though probably not
smooth-gaited. "I appreciate your concern," she said. "Truly.
But I'd like to try my hand at him."

Quinn tried to protest again, but Marcus shook
his head and she stopped, though she still looked extremely worried.
"Let's get mounted ourselves," he suggested. "Anthony, you're
riding Mephisto, I presume. Peter, Sarah, a groom has your horses down there,
at the end."

While the others were occupied mounting their
own horses, Tessa moved toward the skewbald gelding. "There, now, you
funny looking beast, you're not so bad as all that, are you?" she asked in
her special singsong lilt. "You'd enjoy a bit of exercise in the Park,
wouldn't you?"

He was nowhere so testy as Nimbus had been,
much less Vulcan, and in less than a minute was willing to let her place a hand
on the side of his long neck. She stroked him, still talking, and he nodded his
head, his ears now in a relaxed, forward position.

"There," she said to the open-mouthed
groom. "You can lead him out, now."

Still gaping, the man complied and Tessa walked
alongside the gelding, one hand on his flank. They joined the others, who were
already mounted. Quinn's mare, Tessa noted with approval, was both pretty and
spirited, while Sarah sat on the most placid little gelding Tessa had ever seen
—though she still looked rather nervous.

They turned to watch as the groom tossed Tessa
into the sidesaddle, all but Anthony staring in amazement. The gelding
sidestepped, but quieted at once with a soft word from Tessa.

"I don't believe it," Quinn breathed.
"How on earth—?"

Lord Peter shook his head. "It appears you
weren't bamming us, Anthony. She really does have the touch."

Though gratified by their evident admiration,
Tessa felt suddenly embarrassed. "Shall we go?" she suggested.

With lingering, disbelieving glances from the
others, they set out for Hyde Park. Tessa was careful to keep her mount well
away from Sarah's so as not to make her inexperienced sister-in-law any more
nervous, but Quinn had no qualms about bringing her mare alongside the
skewbald.

"Anthony told Marcus you had an almost
magical touch with difficult horses, but I confess I credited it to the
besottedness of a new husband," she said. "I see now that I was
mistaken. But how did you become so skilled?"

As they rode through the crowded streets of
Mayfair, Tessa explained about her mother and her own gift with horses.
"So I can't exactly take credit for it," she concluded, "any
more than I can take credit for my eye color."

"But you can take credit for the use to
which you've put that gift," Quinn said. "Someone blessed with a head
for numbers can choose to use it to make a business successful, or to falsify
account books for his own profit. I can see that this horse is happier already
with you riding him."

Tessa smiled, but Quinn's analogy troubled her,
for she
had
used her gift
for profit —and not necessarily in the most honest way possible. She would
never do so again, of course, but other than making dumb beasts more
comfortable, what real good had ever come from her ability?

They found Hyde Park nearly as congested as the
London streets, so many people were taking advantage of the rare good weather.
Anthony explained to Tessa that during the Season one could scarcely move along
the paths, particularly at the fashionable hour of five o'clock. Now, of
course, people tended to congregate earlier, as the days were shorter —and
colder.

It was frustrating to keep to a decorous hand
canter when her mount so clearly needed a good gallop, but Tessa realized that
she was drawing enough attention already from the fashionable throng. Heads
turned as she passed and she heard snatches of conversation.

Some comments were complimentary.
"—excellent seat," was a phrase she heard more than once, mainly from
gentlemen.

But more than one feminine titter of laughter
followed her progress, along with comments like, "ugly horse," and
"hopelessly outmoded habit."

She hoped Anthony wasn't noticing, for he'd
been both kind and perceptive to realize she needed the challenge of this mount
to snap her out of the doldrums. Still, she couldn't help worrying that her
appearance —in her old habit, on this odd-looking horse— would reflect poorly on
him in the eyes of Society.

They had completed two circuits of the Park
—or, more accurately, Tessa, Quinn and their husbands had, while Peter and
Sarah completed one, much slower circuit —and were preparing to head back to
Grosvenor Square when Tessa saw Lady Adelaide driving toward them in a smart
yellow phaeton.

"Why, Lord Anthony," she exclaimed.
"What a surprise to see you in Town at this season. Was the hunting so
poor this year?" Her eyes flicked toward Tessa and then away.

He bowed from the saddle, a certain tightness
about his lips. "Not at all, Lady Adelaide. I merely wished to bring my
wife to London for a few days. I believe you have already met?"

She looked startled for a moment, as though
surprised Tessa would have told him of their earlier meeting, but then flashed
a brilliant smile. "Of course. I already expressed my congratulations to
Lady Anthony, and now I can convey the same to you. Your new bride appears to
be quite an . . . original."

Tessa could not help flushing at the woman's
tone, which was anything but complimentary, as her haughty eye swept over
Tessa's mount and attire. Anthony, however, responded without hesitation.

"She is indeed, Lady Adelaide. Not only
original, but quite superior to any other lady of my acquaintance, I assure you.
No doubt you—and the rest of Society —will agree, once you come to know
her."

His words warmed Tessa, but there was a
dangerous glitter in the other woman's eye. "Indeed?" Her voice was
now rather shrill. "Well, we shall see, shall we not? Good day, Lord
Anthony." With a sharp word to her driver, she continued on her way.

"Poisonous woman!" Quinn exclaimed.
"Honestly, Anthony, I can't imagine what you ever saw in her."

"Nor can I," he said with a grimace,
but Tessa felt chilled again. Clearly there
had
been something between Anthony and Lady
Adelaide at one time, despite his earlier assurances.

"You won't let her jealousy bother you,
will you, Tessa?" Lord Peter asked, riding up then. "For that's all
it is, you know. Both Quinn and Sarah have had to endure backbiting from the
London tabbies, but they've both survived it—and come out the stronger for it.
I'm convinced you'll do the same."

Tessa couldn't help smiling at her perceptive
brother-in-law's comforting words. "Thank you, Lord Peter. I will try to
prove you right."

"Now, suppose we head back," Lord
Marcus suggested. "It's growing late, and those clouds in the west look
rather ominous."

* *
*

"Oh, my lady," Sally sighed when she
finished weaving a strand of artificial autumn leaves through Tessa's hair.
"You look like a fairy princess, indeed you do. You'll put them other fine
ladies to shame, just see if you don't."

"I don't know about that, but thank you,
Sally." Tessa eyed her reflection with mingled awe and relief.

The brocade ballgown became her well, in its
autumn shades of rust, cream and gold, accented by the red and gold leaves in
her hair. It was lower in the bosom than anything she'd ever worn before and,
with the support of her new corset, made her look quite buxom. Her shoulders
and decolletage, at least, were creamy, and Sally had applied a dusting of
powder that minimized the tan on her cheeks.

She
did
look far better than she'd have believed possible. Perhaps she
would not disgrace Anthony at the ball tonight after all.

The past two days had been so busy she'd had
little time to worry, but now she couldn't help but remember how important
tonight would be. The Duchess had made it abundantly clear that Tessa's
acceptance would depend on her reception at this ball, which would be attended
by the very cream of Society.

"As the newest addition to our family, you
will be examined most minutely," the Duchess had told her that afternoon.
"I trust that by now you've been instructed in everything that will be
expected of you at such a function."

The family had certainly tried, Tessa had to
admit. Anthony had brought in a pianist so that he could help her to practice
the more fashionable dances. Lady Bagstead had drilled her on which people to
befriend and which to avoid. And Quinn and Sarah had offered her all manner of
advice and, more importantly, their unwavering support and friendship.

Still, she felt far from ready for the coming
ordeal, becoming new gown or no.

Anthony and his eldest brother stood in the
main hall, near the foot of the grand staircase, waiting for their wives.
Conversation had been stilted and awkward, as the two had so little in common.
Robert had no interest whatsoever in foxhunting or any other sports, while
Anthony had little to offer on the topics of political influence or the latest
scandals.

He was just giving thanks, yet again, that he
was blessedly safe from inheriting a dukedom, when a stir on the stairs made
him look up—and catch his breath. Beside him, Robert stopped his droning,
apparently speechless for a rare moment.

Tessa was descending the staircase, resplendant
in gold-shot cream brocade, her honey-colored hair upswept and wreathed in
leaves that matched her unusual gown. Anthony was sure he had never seen
anything more beautiful in his life. As she reached the bottom, however, he
could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and hurried forward to take her hand.

"You are exquisite, my dear," he
assured her. "Like a beautiful wood-nymph."

Robert surprised him by saying, "Aye,
you'll do very well, Lady Anthony. Very well, indeed."

Lady Bagstead and the Duchess reached the
landing just then, and swept down the last flight of stairs together, heads
held high. "What's that, Lord Bagstead?" said his wife. "Oh.
Yes. Quite nice, Lady Anthony. What say you, Your Grace?"

The Duchess brought her lorgnette to her eye to
examine Tessa from head to toe. "Passable, certainly. The leaves are a
nice touch. Was that your maid's idea?"

"Lady Peter's, actually, Your Grace,"
Tessa replied, drawing closer to Anthony, as if for support. He placed a hand
at her waist and gave her a small squeeze of reassurance.

A footman announced that the carriage was at
the door, and the Duke emerged from the library, where he'd been tending to
some business. His eyebrows went up when he saw Tessa and he nodded
approvingly, though he did not deign to give her an actual compliment. Still,
Anthony thought, it was something, after all of the private criticisms he'd had
from his parents since his arrival in Town.

Keeping a protective hand over the one Tessa
tucked through his arm, Anthony escorted her out to the carriage, determined to
make this one of the most memorable nights of her life. He couldn't help
recalling the conversation they'd had in that gamekeeper's cottag e—it seemed
so long ago now—nor her wistfulness when she'd spoken of visiting London. This
would be her night to shine.

The carriage drew up in front of the assembly
rooms in St. James's, where Lord and Lady Twyford were holding their ball, and
Anthony felt Tessa tense beside him as she stared out the window at the
arriving guests, all dressed in the absolute height of elegance.

"You outshine them all," he whispered
encouragingly into her ear. He saw her swallow, but then she squeezed his hand
and lifted her chin, signaling that she was prepared to go forward.

The coachman opened the carriage door and
handed down the ladies in order of precedence, the Duchess first, then Lady
Bagstead and finally Tessa. When the couples were reassembled at the foot of
the steps, they proceeded up to the doors of the assembly rooms in the same
order.

Lord and Lady Twyford waited at the top of the
grand staircase to greet their guests. This time, when Tessa sank into her
deepest curtsey, Anthony made certain to help her up at the precise right instant.
Her grateful smile cost him a pang of guilt for his earlier lapse, the night of
their arrival in Town.

"And now, the worst is over," he
murmured to her as they continued into the brilliantly lit ballroom. "We
have only to mingle and dance and respond to the compliments that are certain
to come your way."

She looked up at him doubtfully. "You make
that sound easy, but I've never done any of those things —at least, not in a
setting such as this. It really is beautiful, though," she added, gazing
around her in awe. "I never would have imagined there could be so many
hothouse flowers available in November. And the candles —there must be
thousands upon thousands of them."

"I'm glad you like it," he said,
drawing her further into the room. As he'd predicted, numerous people came
forward for introductions, though most already knew who Tessa was, from the
announcement that had appeared in that morning's papers.