The Fortune Hunter (29 page)

“You knew,” she gasped, her eyes wide with recriminations, “and you did not tell me?”

Nerissa said quietly, “It was not my place to speak of such a matter, for I could not know the current course of Philip's thoughts. I was sure that, if he had intentions to continue with such a plan, he would speak to you of it posthaste. It appears he has done that.” She leaned her head against the embroidered wool on the tester bed. “Hamilton so hoped he would set aside this opaque ambition.”

She hid her face in her hands as she sobbed anew. “I do not want him to do such an insane thing. Talk to him, Nerissa. He admires you. He will listen to you.”

“If he refuses to listen to you and Hamilton, why would he heed anything I say?” she asked as she sat again.

With her hands damp with her tears, Annis grasped Nerissa's fingers. She begged, “Please speak to Philip. He admires your common sense greatly, Nerissa.” A hint of a smile teased the corners of her quivering lips. “Philip spoke to me, only minutes before he revealed his horrendous intent to buy that commission, of his delight with your taming of his brother.”

“I have done no such thing. Hamilton has been a gentleman from the onset.”

“To you mayhap, but you know what is said about—”

“I know!” She set herself on her feet and raised her chin. “I know what has been said, and I vow I wish to hear no more of it.”

Annis clapped her hands in amusement, although her cheeks still shone with tears. “Oh, you
do
love him, don't you? You love him as much as I love Philip.” Her smile crumpled. “Oh, Nerissa, you must convince Philip to rethink this idiocy.”

“I shall try.”

“Today.
Now!
”

Nerissa smiled as she put her hand to the deep
décolletage
of her dressing gown. “Dear Annis, I am hardly dressed appropriately to speak with Philip now, but I shall endeavor to speak to him today.”

“Before dinner?” she asked with childish stubbornness.

“I will try.”

In spite of her promise, Nerissa had no time to seek out Philip before dinner. She had planned to rest for only a few minutes, but the lack of sleep the night before and the hectic preparations for their journey had worn her out. She might have slept the whole evening away if Frye had not come to rouse her with a gentle shake.

Hurriedly dressing in her favorite blue Indian muslin gown, she was impatient while Frye twisted her hair high on her head, leaving only a few wisps to curl about her face. A bandeau of blue silk, which was decorated with pearls and lace, encircled her face.

The passage seemed empty when Nerissa emerged from her bedchamber. Shadows hung over the tables along the walls and obscured the paintings within the gilt frames. No sound came from the lower floor, giving her the feeling that she was alone in the massive house. When a hand settled on her arm, a shriek burst from her throat.

She whirled to see Hamilton standing behind her. From his stylishly tied cravat and the ruffles dropping onto his silk waistcoat of nearly the same blue as her gown to his pristine, white breeches, he was dressed
à la modality
. Only his somber expression marred the flawlessness.

“Hamilton, you frightened me,” she whispered.

“Forgive me. I should not be sneaking up on you, knowing what you have endured.”

“Speak no more of it.” She slipped her arms beneath his black coat and rested her cheek against his chest. As his arms surrounded her, she whispered, “I was already unsettled, for Philip told Annis of his plans to join the army on the Peninsula.”

“Damn him for a cabbage-head!” he snapped. Putting his thumbs under her chin, he tilted her head back gently. “We must find a way to convince him to see the sense of changing his mind.”

“That may no longer be possible.”

“Anything is possible until one hops off the perch and is buried.” A slow smile drifted from his lips to his eyes. “By tonight, the rest of our party will have arrived from Bath. I think I shall suggest that we celebrate our first day in the country with a hunt.”

“A hunt? What good will chasing a fox about the Park do?”

“You can leave that to me. What I need you to do is to convince Annis to ride to the hounds tomorrow.”

Nerissa shook her head. “I don't think that is a good idea. Annis is not a competent rider.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“What do you have planned?” she asked, unable to halt her smile as she saw the mischievous angle of his.

“You shall see on the morrow, my sweet.” In the moment before his mouth covered hers, he whispered, “With luck, we shall hear no more of these absurd plans to battle the frogs.”

Nerissa emerged from the double doors of the ancient manor house to see all the hunters gathered in the courtyard in anticipation of the excitement to come. Grey light filtered through the clouds clinging to the eastern horizon, and a cool hint of autumn brushed the loose tendrils of her hair back from her face.

As she walked toward where the men were discussing past hunts and commenting on the skills of the foxhounds in the pack, she carried the bulk of her long skirt over her arm to reveal her high-lows which were tightly laced about her ankles. She tucked her riding crop under her arm and pulled at her high cravat, which echoed the ones the men wore daily, and wondered why they allowed themselves to be coerced by style into donning something so uncomfortable … and why she had.

Nerissa looked past the baying hounds and the men, who were placing eager wagers about which of them would kill the prey, to see Philip checking the gab-string on the horse Nerissa knew was for Annis. Sure that the bridle was firmly in place, he turned as she walked toward him. Tipping his hat toward her, he smiled.

“An excellent hunt it shall be,” gushed Philip as he drew on his riding gloves. “And to think that you have convinced Annis to ride with us, Nerissa! I own that I knew you were a woman of rare charm from the first moment that I saw you.”

“I was quite senseless at the time, as you should recall.”

Color rose along his face, and Nerissa instantly regretted her unthinking retort. When she hurried to apologize, he waved aside her words.

“'Tis I who spoke as if I was cockle-brained. Only a ramshackle cove would remind you of that accident. Forgive me, Nerissa.”

“I cannot forgive you when there is no need for an apology from you.” Dampening her lips, she lowered her voice. “Philip, may I speak to you alone for a moment?”

“Of what?”

“Of Annis.”

He brightened as if a candle had been lighted within him. “Such a treasure! How can I thank you enough for introducing us, Nerissa? Surely fate must have urged me to enter that snuff shop. What else could explain the fortune that brought her into my life?”

Hamilton's laugh intruded. “An eager mother seeking a match for her daughter? Surely you have been afflicted with too many of those types of meetings.” He wore his pinks with style, for the riding jacket might have been designed with his lithe form in mind. Dropping nearly to the tops of his boots, which were rolled down to reveal their canvas interiors, the coat opened to expose his gold waistcoat and buckskin breeches. He carried a long flintlock rifle. When Nerissa regarded it with curiosity, he smiled. “A memento from my journey to America. Weapons, not much different from this one, served to outfox our army. I daresay I can turn the tables by outfoxing a brace of foxes with this.”

“You sound as if you admire America.”

“It is an interesting place. Had I been the younger son, I must admit that I might have considered staying there for a while.” As he paused in front of a mottled grey horse, he said, “I am glad, however, that I returned. I did not guess what challenges there would be before me.”

“Don't speak of your quest today.”

“You clearly are thinking more of it today than I am, for I was speaking of the challenge of dealing with a lovely woman named Nerissa Dufresne.”

“Hamilton, you will put her to the blush,” Philip chided with a laugh. “I have.… Annis!” His smile widened as he rushed forward to take her hands. “You look lovely this morning.”

“Indeed you do,” Nerissa added as she admired the fashionable cut of her friend's gold habit. The color added fire to her hair, but nothing glowed more than her happy eyes while she let Philip throw her up in the saddle.

Nerissa sighed. Not once last evening had she had a chance to speak with Philip alone. When Hamilton had spoken of his guests, she had not guessed he had invited everyone who had attended Sir Delwyn Seely's weekly gatherings. Each of the guests was eager to discover the truth behind the rumors of what had happened the night before they left Bath, so she was kept busy deflecting their questions with Hamilton's help.

“Don't worry,” Hamilton murmured as he came to stand next to her.

“How can I help it? Look at how wondrously happy Annis looks. If he goes, she will be shattered.”

“He won't go.”

“There are some things even you can't halt, Hamilton.”

He laughed. “Clearly there are some things you still have yet to learn, and it behooves me to teach you today.”

Although she was certain—or, at least, she thought she was certain—he spoke only of Annis and Philip, the glint in his eyes warned that his words might possess a double meaning. A warm silkiness wrapped around her heart and oozed throughout her. Her hand rose toward him before she could halt it.

Smiling, he lifted it to his lips. Even through her riding gloves, the heat of his mouth seared her skin, flooding her with molten flame. “Nerissa,” he whispered, “there are so many things I would take pleasure in teaching you.”

“Hamilton …”

“Hamilton!” The shout drowned out the rest of her words. Looking past him, she saw Sir Delwyn signalling to him that the master of the foxhounds was ready with the mixed pack to set them to the scent.

“Your horse and my guests are waiting, Nerissa.” The sound of her given name on his lips always gave it a musical potency that she had never imagined it could possess. Twirling through her in a sweet melody, his voice caressed her. She took a half-step toward him, wanting to feel more than his voice, but halted when she heard the baronet bellow again.

Hamilton led her to a grey mottled horse. “I hope this will do. I gave the stable's most passive mount to Annis. I thought you might wish something with a bit more spirit.”

“Yes.” As he tossed her up into the saddle, she adjusted her skirts around her. Softly she asked, “Hamilton, what do you have planned?”

“You shall see.” He swung easily onto his horse. “Just follow me and Cirrus at the best pace you can.”

The rest of Nerissa's questions went as unanswered as her first one, for the master of the hounds was putting the hounds to the line. The whippers-in were struggling to restrain the dogs who were eager for the run, because the day was perfect for a burning scent, which would lead the dogs on a fast run after the beast.

Within minutes, the hounds came out of the covert as if someone had fired them from a pistol. Baying their zealous song, they raced away from the copse toward the open field. The whippers-in followed closely to be sure that none of the skirters strayed from the main pack. With a shout, the huntsmen called for the riders to follow.

Nerissa slapped her hand on her horse, delighting in the chase. As she saw the lead thrusters—Hamilton among them—clear a fence easily, she looked back for Annis. Her eyes widened when she realized her friend was racing across the field like a varmint.

“Annis!” she cried, striking the horse with the small whip again. Her friend could not manage a horse at that speed. She was sure to come to a cropper if the beast tried to take the timber as the other riders were doing.

She plied the whip again and again to the horse, but it could not catch Annis's mount, which had skirted a fence and was running even faster. Shrieking Annis's name, she heard other shouts. She could not tell who was calling to her. She did not care. She only wanted to halt that runaway horse before Annis fell and was hurt.

Turning her horse, so it would intercept Annis's, she goaded it with her heels. It took the fence with ease. Dirt sprayed her as the horse cut across the field.

Suddenly a flash of white raced in front of her. She pulled back on the reins. When her horse reared, she clung to them. She could not fall. The horse's hoofs might come down on her. Pain jarred her as her mount dropped back to the ground. Whipping the reins around her wrists, she drew back on them more slowly to keep the horse under control. The beast slowed, quivering as much as she was.

She took several deep breaths, then looked across the field to see another rider overtaking Annis. A ragged sigh of relief allowed her shoulders to sag as the rider—whom she could identify even from across the field by his ginger-hackles as Philip—helped Annis slow her horse. When Annis flung her arms around him, he lifted her from her mount and set her on his knees.

Hearing hoofbeats, she turned in the saddle to see Hamilton on his white horse riding toward the fence. Cirrus cleared the rails with no effort. For one moment, the man and the horse were framed by the clouds. She could believe they were one; a Centaur climbing to the heights of its mythical aerie. Landing with an ease that suggested the fence had been nothing for them to master, the horse kept on, its stride unbroken, until Hamilton slowed it to a stop beside her. He held out her hat, which she had not realized she had lost in her mad dash to save Annis.

Rudely she snatched it from his hands. “Have you gone queer in your attic?” she gasped. “Cutting me off like that! I could have been thrown!”

“You could have been killed,” he answered quietly.

“I know. If—”

“If you had kept riding neck-or-nothing in that direction.” Taking her horse's halter, he drew her a few paces forward.