Tessa's Touch (4 page)

Faro was just as he'd been when they'd left the
lodge, so Anthony soon turned his attention to the crowd, renewing the few
acquaintances he hadn't seen since his arrival in Melton several weeks ago. Old
Thripton, he noticed, was fatter than ever, and had a new, heavier hunter to
bear him.

A flash of pink caught his eye and he turned to
see that Lord Gryfton had a new mistress this year, mounted for the hunt, as
usual. As Anthony himself had done in years past, the viscount made a point of
keeping women who could ride, though some were better horsewomen than others.
Last year's bit of muslin had been worse than most, refusing to even attempt
any of the jumps, Anthony recalled. No wonder she'd been replaced.

Sight of the pretty blonde in her habit
recalled Miss Seaton, who'd never been far from his mind these past few days,
if truth be told. That was a woman he'd pay money to see in the hunt, he
thought. Not that it could happen, of course, since these days no women but the
occasional mistress ever actually rode to the hounds.

Pity.

He'd only seen a small sample of Miss Seaton's
riding, of course, and that in breeches, but there had been something about her
fluid grace, something about the way she sat her mare, that made him certain
she'd be a treat to watch flying across the fields, even in a sidesaddle.

Smiling at the mental image, he turned back to
his friends —and blinked. There, at the edge of the yard, on one of the most
beautiful bays he'd ever seen, sat Miss Seaton herself in an elegant burgundy
habit. She was talking to Mercer Emery, her father's man of business, who was
mounted on the same roan mare Miss Seaton had been riding the night Anthony had
first met her.

Mr. Emery was dressed for the hunt, though his
red coat appeared rather loose across the shoulders, as though made for someone
else. He must have brought Miss Seaton to watch the Quorn start off, as ladies
occasionally did.

Without realizing he'd done so, Anthony headed
Cinder in their direction. He was only a few yards away when Miss Seaton saw
him. Her deep brown eyes widened and her color rose perceptibly as their eyes
met.

"I'm delighted that you have come to see
us off, Miss Seaton," he greeted her. "I hope you will be able to
find a vantage point from which to watch some of the hunt itself, so that I can
show off for you." He winked, mostly to see her reaction.

To his delight, her cheeks pinkened further
and she dropped her gaze charmingly —but only for a moment. Taking a visibly
deep breath that made him notice how well-fitted her bodice was, she lifted her
chin and met his eyes again.

"I expect to have an excellent view of the
hunt, Lord Anthony," she said, "for I will be riding in it
myself."

* *
*

CHAPTER 3

Tessa could not help but feel some amusement
at the shock on Lord Anthony's face. It helped to mitigate the nervousness she
felt at being among more people at once than she'd ever seen in her life. She
hadn't fully realized before how ill-equipped she was for socializing on this
scale after living such a retired existence.

"You're riding with the Quorn?" Lord
Anthony echoed disbelievingly.

"My father never allowed his subscription
to lapse," she told him. That had been a welcome surprise, though it was
money the estate could ill afford. "The Master was willing to allow me on
those grounds."

In fact, it had taken Uncle Mercer two days to
convince Mr. Assheton Smith to allow her to ride, even equipped with a letter
from her father. Only after calling upon Sir George Seaton himself had Mr.
Assheton Smith grudgingly relented.

"How very forward-thinking of him,"
Lord Anthony said. "Or, perhaps, backward-thinking. Either way, I must say
I approve."

Now it was Tessa's turn to be surprised, for
every other gentleman who had learned of her intent had conveyed shocked
disapproval. "Thank you, Lord Anthony. I hope that Nimbus and I will aquit
ourselves well." She patted the bay's neck, striving to keep her own
nervousness from infecting the horse.

"I've no doubt you will, if I'm any judge
of horseflesh," he replied, casting an appreciative eye over her mount.
"What a handsome animal that is."

"Thank you, my lord," she said again.
"We think so."

"And he'll be up for auction this
evening," Uncle Mercer chimed in, speaking for the first time since Lord
Anthony had approached. "Feel free to spread the word."

He nodded. "I'll certainly do so. Ah,
there's the signal. I'll see you on the field, Miss Seaton." Touching the
brim of his hat to her, he expertly wheeled his gray and headed for a knot of
mounted gentlemen on the far side of the yard.

"I hope none of them gents will queer the
deal for us," Uncle Mercer muttered as Tessa prodded Nimbus forward to
join the field.

She paused. "What do you mean?"

"Three of them was down at the stables
last week, remember? Nimbus wasn't exactly at his best just then."

Tessa frowned, her earlier misgivings nagging
at her again. Remembering the leaking roof, she pushed them aside. "Then
I'll just have to convince them they were mistaken, won't I?" Touching her
heels to the bay's side, she directed him to a place at the rear of the others,
alert for any sign of hostility he might show toward the other horses or their
riders.

She still wasn't sure how her uncle had changed
her father's mind. When she had first asked him if she might ride to hunt, her
father had firmly refused, though there had been a certain wistfulness in his
eyes. After an hour closeted with Uncle Mercer, however, he had all but
insisted she ride, as though he had been in favor of it all along. Not for the
first time, she felt vaguely disturbed at her uncle's influence over her
father, even though in this case it had worked to her advantage.

Her performance today would determine whether
she would ever ride with the Quorn again —or with any other hunt, for the
masters of the Belvoir and Cottesmore Hunts were also here for the opening of
the season. She was therefore determined to make a good showing, her mount's
temperament problems notwithstanding.

"What is Miss Seaton doing here?"
Stormy asked as Anthony rejoined his friends. "Never say she means to ride
to the hunt?"

Glancing back, Anthony saw that she and Emery
were moving into position, ready with the rest to follow the Master and his
whippers-in to the covert. "So she tells me."

Rush and Thor followed his gaze, then both
turned back to him in consternation. "That's the very bay we told you
about last week," Thor said. "The one we saw in the paddock at
Seaton's. I'd swear he wasn't even broken."

"Completely wild," Rush agreed. He
looked again. "Yes, it's definitely the same animal, for I noticed his
left rear sock was shorter than the other three."

Stormy, after another long stare, concurred.
"I didn't even notice the horse at first, what with the novelty of seeing
Miss Seaton herself here, but they're right. He looks docile enough now,
however, so perhaps we simply caught him on a bad day."

"Perhaps," said Anthony thoughtfully,
remembering how she had calmed Zephyr on the road last week. "It will be
interesting to see how they do in the hunt together."

"Aye, I'm thinking she'll be a treat to
watch —if she isn't thrown," said Rush with a grin. "Maybe I won't
ride so far forward today."

Anthony bit back a totally uncalled-for
response. Why should he mind if his friends admired Miss Seaton? Kindred spirit
though she seemed to be, she was really nothing more to him than an enigma. A
very attractive enigma.

"Perhaps I'll join you," he managed
to say lightly.

Mr. Smith set the hounds in motion then.
Flanked by his two whippers-in, they guided the pack uphill to the covert, just
over a mile away. The hunting field followed at a distance, most riding covert
hacks, with lightweight grooms mounted on their hot-blooded hunters. A very few
rode their hunters to the covert, including Miss Seaton. Because no one else
could safely ride him? Anthony wondered.

He and Rush allowed most of the field to pass
them as they went, so that they could better observe Miss Seaton and her bay.
The horse moved beautifully, without the slightest sign of skittishness. If he
didn't trust his friends implicitly, Anthony would never have believed what
they'd told him of that bay.

"Maybe Stormy's right," Rush
commented as they approached the covert. "I can't find any fault with that
horse today —nor his rider." He flashed Anthony a grin that made his
hackles rise.

He longed to tell Rush to keep his eyes on the
horse, but knew better than to open himself to the ribbing that would follow.
"Their true test is yet to come," was all he said.

While those on hacks changed horses, the
hunstman gathered the hounds and sent them out to draw the covert, a two or
three acre stand of trees and thick underbrush. Anticipation rose to its height
as all the assembled waited to see whether the hounds would find and flush a
fox, or whether they'd have to change horses again to try another covert.

Long minutes passed, and Anthony couldn't help
stealing quick glances at Miss Seaton, a short distance away. She looked tense,
but that was not to be wondered at for her first hunt. Still, he might be able
to—

The bell-like sound of the hounds giving tongue
distracted him. They'd scented a fox! Excitement rippled through the fifty or
sixty gathered horsemen. Then, "Tally-ho!" came the cry of one of the
whippers-in as the fox was spotted breaking cover.

It was bad form to override the hounds, so all
held back until the pack was free of the covert and well in pursuit of the
fleeing quarry. Then, with shouts of "Yoicks!" and "Hark!"
by the younger, more excitable sportsmen, the field leapt into action.

Anthony felt the familiar thrill sweep through
him. Oh, how he missed this, when hunting wasn't in season! He set Faro's head
toward the center of the pack; those hounds had their heads down and were
clearly hot on the scent, and would stick once the fox disappeared from sight.

So swept up in the hunt was he that for a
moment he forgot to keep an eye on Miss Seaton as he instinctively moved toward
the front of the field. They neared the first hedge, still tall and shaggy this
early in the season, as the field hands had not had time since harvest to layer
it properly.

He thought to glance back then, and saw that
Miss Seaton had passed most of the others as well, though Mr. Emery had fallen
back. Eyes alight, face into the wind, she was flying along with the best of
them. She was magnificent, as he'd known she'd be.

Angling toward her, he was able to watch her
clear the hedge just ahead of him and she did so superbly, with none of the
hesitation that might be expected of a lady riding sidesaddle. It was as though
she and her mount were one.

The hounds grew quieter, and glancing ahead he
saw that the fox had disappeared into the stubble of a harvested wheat field.
The huntsman and whippers-in cast the hounds and soon a clear baying told them
that the scent had been recovered. Leaping a ditch and a low stone wall, the
mounted sportsmen galloped in pursuit.

Anthony spared a quick look over his shoulder
to see Mr. Emery's mount refuse the wall. Backing off, he set the mare at the
wall again, and this time she cleared it, though now Emery was among the
stragglers bringing up the rear of the field.

The wheat stubble gave way to a rougher fallow
field, the transition marked by a three-railed fence. The hounds went under, as
the fox had presumably done, and the Master and whips over. The rest of the
field spread out, some to jump the fence and others, less intrepid, to find a
gate. Anthony set Faro at the fence as he always did, and saw that Miss Seaton
was doing the same.

He couldn't deny a knot of alarm in his chest
as he watched her charge the fence at full speed, but his concern was needless.
The bay cleared the three rails as easily as he'd done hedge and wall,
continuing on at a gallop on the other side.

Partway through the fallow field, the hounds
lost the scent, allowing the rest of the hunting field to catch up to the
leaders while the hounds cast about to find it again. Anthony took the
opportunity to ride close to Miss Seaton.

"First check," he said cheerfully.
"What think you of your first hunt so far?"

Her shining eyes and brilliant smile answered
him before her words did. "It's exhilarating." He couldn't help
thinking the word applied equally to herself. "What a shame that more
ladies don't get to experience this."

"Perhaps you will start a trend," he
suggested, admiring the color the wind had put into her cheeks, and the
honey-colored curls that had escaped her tall, jaunty hat.

"That is certainly my hope. I fear most
gentlemen do not share it, however." She glanced over at a small knot of
older sportsmen who were glaring in her direction.

Anthony chuckled. "Their pride is pricked,
that is all. They don't like to feel that they can be bested on the field by a
lady. Those more secure in their own abilities will not feel so
threatened."

As though to support his statement, Rush,
Stormy and Killer rode up just then. "My compliments, ma'am. Excellent run
so far, eh?" Stormy said.

"Aye," Killer agreed, "even if
this nag did refuse that last fence. That's a splendid beast you have
there—Miss Seaton, is it?"

She inclined her head— regally, Anthony
thought. "Yes. And thank you. Nimbus will be up for auction tonight,
should you be interested. My uncle will be handling the transaction." She
nodded toward Mr. Emery, who was only now joining the rest of the field.

Anthony raised a brow, for this was the first
he'd known of the relationship. It explained much, he thought, recalling his
original opinion of the younger Mr. Emery as well as the elder.

"Will he indeed?" Killer said
enthusiastically. "I've had an eye out for a new hunter, as it happens. I
believe I'll go have a word with your uncle now." He turned his horse in
that direction.

"Don't do anything rash," Anthony
called after him, mindful of what the others had said about the bay. Killer was
a capital fellow, but not the best rider in the world.

Turning back, he found Miss Seaton frowning at
him. "Do you mean to dissuade your friend from bidding on Nimbus?"
she asked.

He shrugged, feeling slightly uncomfortable
under her curious brown gaze. "I've never been in favor of buying a horse
simply because it shows well at a single meet. I'll simply caution him to
examine Nimbus for himself before committing any large sum of money to his purchase."
He glanced at the others for support.

Rush cleared his throat. "Thing is, Miss
Seaton, we happened to see this horse in your father's paddock last week. He
seemed a bit . . . ill-tempered at the time."

"As I told them, though, we could have
simply caught him on a bad day," Stormy put in. "Most horses have
'em."

"They do," she agreed with a smile
that Anthony thought looked a tiny bit strained. "Surely, none of you
gentlemen think you would have trouble managing a horse that a mere female like
myself can handle?"

They all laughed, but Anthony couldn't help
feeling her line had a rehearsed sound to it. Before he could comment further,
however, the hounds gave tongue and the huntsman blew several sharp notes on
his horn, signaling the resumption of the hunt.

Everyone wheeled their horses around and a
moment later they were off again, flying across the fallow field and into the
next. With the start the fox must now have, they were all but guaranteed a
long, excellent run for the rest of the day.

* *
*

Skimming across the countryside on Nimbus
again, Tessa couldn't help feeling the hounds had found the scent in the nick
of time. She'd been able to tell from Lord Anthony's expression that he saw
right through her "mere female" ruse, and she feared he meant to call
her to account for it.