Within minutes, his valet had helped him don his riding clothes, and he was taking the path to the stables. Before he reached them, Mariel’s laugh floated to him from the open doors.
“Mr. Clancy, you jest. A sheep? No. A goat perhaps.”
His stableman’s chuckle followed. “My lady, to be truthful. It was a pig.”
Again, Mariel laughed.
He missed that sound. How many nights had he lain awake listening to it in his memories? He hadn’t heard it in years, since the day he’d left for the war.
He stepped through the open doors just as she spoke.
“Has Lord Blackmore made the creek jump since he returned to England?”
“Not that he has shared.” Mr. Clancy sighed. “He’s not been about riding much since coming home.”
He strode toward them. “That’s because I’ve not had the time. Taking over the family has come with many responsibilities.”
Mr. Clancy waved his excuse away with his hand. “Bah, that never stopped you before.”
“Good morning, Lord Blackmore.” Mariel rose from the bench she sat upon, her forest green riding habit accentuating her eyes and slender waist. She’d always been perfectly proportioned, but the riding habit style called out her slender build.
He forced his thoughts away from her physical form, or as far as they would go. “Good morning. I was surprised to hear that you had come to call, in the stable no less.”
She brushed a bit of dust from the sleeve of her fitted jacket. “It would not have been proper to call upon you in the usual fashion since your mother is no longer in residence. But I did need to remove myself from the chaos of my sister moving her household out to London today. So instead, I simply came to see my old friend here.” She held her hand out toward Mr. Clancy.
The old man’s chest puffed out in pride. “That’s right. She came to see me, she did. Who said it was you she wanted?”
He was well aware that she wouldn’t want him if she discovered how damaged he truly was. He took no affront, having grown up with Mr. Clancy teaching him about the fine beasts in his stable. Besides, the stableman couldn’t keep the twinkle from his eyes, even if his gray beard hid his smile.
He grimaced. “I’m afraid Mr. Gibson was under the impression that the lady wished for a partner to ride with.”
Mr. Clancy looked to Mariel. “Be that so, my lady?”
She crossed one arm over her stomach and settled her other elbow on it to lay her hand on her cheek as she pondered. “I had not thought quite that far, Mr. Clancy, only that I wished to see you.”
Mr. Clancy leaned in as if whispering, but he spoke very clearly. “Well, the lad got all dressed up for you and would be mightily disappointed were you to ride away without him, I’m thinking.”
“Only disappointed you say? Not stricken with grief?”
At Mr. Clancy’s shake of the head, Mariel sighed. “Very well, I suppose I must ride with yonder lord then.”
Though the banter was much like what they used to engage in when they were still young and innocent, Mariel’s undertones now were deadly serious. She’d made it quite clear that she still harbored ill feelings toward him for not contacting her immediately on his arrival home. Now that he understood her true circumstances, he felt like a heel. “It would be an honor. I saw that you brought Atalanta today.” He turned to Mr. Clancy. “Saddle up Freesia. She’s the only one fast enough to keep up with Atalanta.
“Good choice.” Mr. Clancy nodded proudly then strode off to do as bid.
He held his arm out toward the wide open double stable doors. “I would like to be reacquainted with Atalanta. Shall we await my mount out of doors?”
“Of course, just be careful around her. She does bite.”
Her warning held multiple meanings, of that he was sure, but he still admired the sway of her hips as she passed by him. He may not be able to act on his inclinations, but he could still very much admire the woman he loved. If he didn’t miss his guess, her hips were a bit rounder, a trait he found quite enticing. Finally moving to follow her, he contemplated where they should ride. As he stepped into the sun, he found her petting Atalanta along her neck. “Is she still the fastest of your horses?”
“She is, though she doesn’t have the stamina of Zephyrus.” She looked at him as she shrugged. “I have not raced them, of course, but for a short race, she has the speed to win.”
“You mentioned breeding horses the other day. Are you thinking of breeding racers?”
She moved her gaze back to the horse. “Not exactly. I had thought to breed for different characteristics, maybe different temperaments, or different capacities for trainings. I have not thought it through yet. First, I must find a small home with a large stable.” She smiled crookedly while still looking at the horse. “It is a unique combination that may not exist.” She finally glanced at him. “But that’s a common dilemma for the people in my family.”
While he remembered her parents being unusually loving and her sister Joanna being strangely focused on books, he wasn’t sure he would call them odd. “I do not think your family so far from the norm. After all, there are other finishing schools for young women.”
