He looked over her head toward the stable block. “Ludlow,” he called out to a bandy-legged gentleman pitching hay. “Have Lady Talavera saddled and ready for Miss Leonard in half an hour.”
The man spit then nodded his understanding and went walking in a rolling-gaited fashion toward the paddock gate. “Come,” Deveraux said, giving her his arm.
Warily she hooked her arm with his and let him lead her back into the house.
“Breeding horses is not just a hobby with me, you know,” he said as they crossed the wide marble hall floor. He led her into the library and to a worn armchair drawn up near the fire. “Can I offer you something to drink? Some Madeira, port, sherry?”
“Just a small glass of sherry, thank you. You were saying something about hobbies?”
He handed her a glass. “Yes, I can’t afford them.” He shook his head and sat down in a chair opposite hers, splaying his legs out before him. He held his glass up to the sunlight streaming in the tall windows, turning it every which way to see how thesun caught the cut crystal facets and shone through the amber liquor.
“I’m raising horses for profit. I have to. I’m a younger son without property and therefore without the assets to grow more money. I have to watch out for myself, but what is a scholarly educated, sporting-mad military man fit for?” He laughed harshly. “Nothing, Miss Leonard—Leona.” He grinned. “I have your problem with names, though not for the same reason. You’ve beenMiss Leonardin my thoughts for too long.”
She laughed and blushed, not knowing quite how to take his words. “I do not know anything about horse breeding, but those two mares looked exquisite,” she said, a trifle tightly. She coughed to clear her throat. “I should love to see their get!”
“I think they shall pay out—eventually.”
“Do you have other investments?”
He laughed. “At the moment, investments are all I have! There is one I’m fairly hopeful of. My friend Hugh Talverton comes from near Manchester and all the cotton manufactories there. They’re vile places for the employees: dark, dank, and hot. He has a notion of building a modern textile mill using new technology. I and some others are considering investing.” He looked at her sideways. “Do you think I should be dirtying my hands beyond hope if I become involved in trade?”
She pursed her lips, thoughtfully considering his question. “No, I do not think so. In the past, yes. But not today. We are entering a new age. Many of the rules from our fathers’ and grandfathers’ times will need to be bent, if not broken.”
Deveraux nodded. “I thought you would not hold with the past. Any woman who would dress in man’s clothing must be republican-minded.”
There was a teasing gleam in his eye that Leona, showing great forbearance, refused to feed. Her eyes narrowed, and herlips twisted wryly.“Mater artium necessitas.Necessity is the mother of invention.”
“Latin yet! I am impressed—as I know you meant me to be.” He held up his hands. “For the nonce, I retire from the lists, chastened.”
Leona relaxed and smiled. “I don’t know if I should allow that. Isn’t it the better military strategy to get the enemy on the run?”
“If first you are certain that the enemy is in full retreat and is not luring you forward to be squeezed into obliteration from the flanks.”
“Ahhh. Yes, a possible scenario. Thank you for the lesson.
He tipped his head in acknowledgment. He swung one long leg over the arm of his chair in a shockingly casual manner and set it to swinging as he sipped on his sherry.
Leona felt uncomfortable in the silence. She downed the last of her sherry and fidgeted in her chair. “Where are Lucy and Mr. Fitzhugh? I should hate to leave the horses standing.
Deveraux laughed. “If you stay here a while, Miss Leonard, you will discover that my sister is rarely on time and never before-times. It was worse before that Jewitt harridan of hers arrived, so I take comfort in small ways and scarce notice anything less than half an hour.”
“What does Mr. Fitzhugh have to say to his fiancée's habits?”
Deveraux looked at her wryly. “You have perhaps noticed David’s sartorial elegance? . . . Come to think of it, can’t but help notice it in comparison to me.”
Leona noticed but did not know what he meant, for to her, his restrained attire suited his large frame admirably. In comparison, Mr. Fitzhugh’s attire looked almost fussy. Of course, she could not admit that to Mr. Deveraux!
Deveraux lolled his head back against the chair cushion and spoke lazily. “He and Lucy are well matched. We used to say thatone day Fitzhugh’s regiment would miss a battle while he dallied in his tent straightening a sash.”
“You know, of course, that I could call you out for that,” David Fitzhugh said amiably from the library doorway.
“You could, but if you were so inclined, you would have done so two years ago,” Deveraux said without turning his head to look at him. “Is it too much to hope that you’ve brought my sister in with you?”
Fitzhugh laughed as he strolled into the room.
Deveraux nodded, then turned toward him, swinging his leg to the floor and sitting up straight. “I have lately begun to wonder who will be the latest for your wedding—Lucy or you.”
“Considering taking bets?”
