He rode back to Pembury from his uncle’s estate, deep in thought. Next month he would attend the Season. Go to all the dashed balls and affairs which bored a fellow. Despite his best intentions, he suspected he would make a very indifferent husband. He’d find someone quiet and amenable. Happy to be left to her own endeavors, whatever married ladies did: sewing, running the house, morning teas, that sort of thing. Tending the nursery. His hands tightened on the reins, causing Blaze to sidle. Hart reined him in. A baby? At twenty-seven, he hadn’t intended to become a father for years, perhaps never. It unnerved him. He’d rather face a raging rhino in Africa than hold a tiny babe in his arms whose very life depended on him. Losing his mother so suddenly at eight years of age and then being told to keep a stiff upper lip by his father before being sent away to school, where he’d been constantly roughed up and teased, hardened his heart. Although he considered himself a loyal friend, he doubted he could care deeply enough to marry.
He urged Blaze on. Enough of that. First, see what repairs could be put in motion at the estate with the little money available to him. And then London.
*
Lady Madeline Howardpulled on her leather riding gloves and walked downstairs to go to the stables. Riding had become essential for her sanity. It was almost a year since she came to live with her Uncle Arthur, and she still felt overwhelmed with sadness by the loss of her beloved parents in a carriage accident. She missed their affection and yearned for a little tenderness, but none was forthcoming. Her uncle was a strict disciplinarian. He invited no one to the house and had no wish to visit their neighbors. Nor did he attend the assemblies or house parties in the district where she might have made some friends.
When news had reached them the Prince of Wales planned a stop in Tunbridge Wells while passing through, she begged Uncle Arthur to take her to see him, but received such a cold scolding for her ridiculous demands that afterward, she kept silent. She could ride her gray mare, Pearl, however, brought to her at her uncle’s estate, from her parents’ stables by her father’s groom, Jack Forest. Jack had been put off along with the rest of the servants, except for Henry, their groom, and Jane, Maddy’s lady’s maid, who was still with her.
“I hid Pearl, Lady Madeline,” Jack had told her. “I doubted they’d miss her, and as it turned out, they didn’t.” Jack grinned. “The fellow who came to take the horses to Tattersalls couldn’t count.”
“You are remarkable and very brave, Jack,” Maddie told him, while hoping her uncle wouldn’t discover the mistake and sell Pearl. He hadn’t. It was fortunate that he didn’t care to ride and had no interest in the stables. “I wish there was something I could do to repay you,” she had said to Jack before he left to seek work. “When I have a home of my own, I shall find you. My mother and father would wish it.”
Jack had run his hand along the brim of his hat and smiled, apparently having considered it unlikely she could ever help him.
Uncle Arthur made his displeasure obvious at what he saw as Jack’s betrayal, but couldn’t do anything more to him.
As her father had no heir, her uncle had full control of Green Oaks, and ruthlessly sold off the estate and everything therein, as he had inherited all but her dowry. Her parents’ effects, including her father’s hunters, were sold with the estate. Maddie’s world had crumbled. With tears in her eyes, she’d wished the staff well, furious with her uncle for letting them go without a character. Some had worked for her father since she was small.
Her one contact with the outside world was her cousin, Cathy, who lived with Maddie’s Aunt Elizabeth in Bath. Cathy wrote almost daily, keeping Maddie up to date with news: those of importance who visited Bath; the latest fashions and news, and a fascinating view of her life in Bath society, which turned Maddie pea green with envy.
As Maddie entered the hall, she found one of Cathy’s letters had arrived in the post. Maddie was up early to search the salver in the hall for a letter addressed to her before her uncle rose from his bed. Hugging it to her, she hurried up to her room to read it.
Have you met the Marquess, Lord Montford yet?Cathy wrote.For him to live so close must be greatly frustrating. You should endeavor to gain a glimpse of this splendid gentleman. Cannot your miserly uncle invite him to tea? You simply must meet him. A friend of mine danced with him at a ball and said he is enormously good company. If one doesn’t wish to pursue him for marriage, that is.Cathy had underlined the words twice.When you do meet him, you must write immediately and tell me everything!
Well, there was nothing to tell. So far, Maddie hadn’t spoken to him and doubted she ever would. Apart from that one glimpse of him over the fence, she knew nothing about him beyond what Cathy told her. Maddie read on as her cousin described the handsome rake, phrased in censorious but slightly awestruck terms.
She smiled at her cousin’s description of Lord Montford and left her room in a hurry to reach the stables before her uncle was down and might decide to prevent her from riding. He seemed to take delight in making her unhappy.
Anger and frustration at her lot tightened her stomach as she galloped Pearl over the fields. A hedge loomed up, one they often took. She gave Pearl’s neck a pat. “Ready girl?” They sailed over as they often did, but this time, as the horse’s hooves cleared the topmost branches, the saddle slipped sideways. Thrown off Pearl, Maddie landed on her bottom on the hard ground. She lay propped on her elbows, stunned, then sat up. She rubbed her sore hip, and pushed back an escaped curl threatening to blind her, seeing her hat atop a bush. Pearl came over and nudged her, and Maddie came up on her knees to run an anxious eye over the horse’s fetlocks. “You’re not hurt, girl? No? Oh, that’s good.” She released a relieved breath.
“You’re lucky she isn’t,” came a deep masculine voice from behind her. “What got into your head to take the mare over that high hedge? You, as well as your horse, might have been killed.”
Maddie, aware of the unladylike view she presented, quickly rolled back onto her bottom. Her breath whooshed out as he dismounted from a tall, black thoroughbred. With the reins in his hand, he walked over to her with an easy, confident stride. It made her recall Cathy’s words. Close up, Lord Montford was indeed immaculate and intimidating. She felt at a great disadvantage. What should she do? Scramble to her feet and curtsey?
“Hardly likely, Lord Montford. Pearl jumps it most days of the week.”
His steely blue eyes regarded her as he bent to offer her his free hand. “Are you hurt?”
She made no move to take his hand, instead gave consideration to how she might rise with grace. “I am perfectly all right, thank you.”
“Nonsense. Take my hand.”
Maddie quickly realized the sense of it and grasped his large hand. How firm his grip was. She rose as elegantly as she could manage, painfully aware of her dishevelment, and quickly released his hand to shake the grass from her skirts. A quick inspection found a smudge of dirt on the back. She ignored it, fearing brushing her bottom might lack grace, and she’d done enough to give him that impression. Reclaiming her hat from an azalea bush, she arranged it on her head, disregarding the state of her hair, which threatened to escape its pins. One wisp hung before her eyes, and she blew it away. It was difficult to appear confident and argue one’s point when one looked like a ragamuffin. But she was prepared to make her point. She disliked how he cast aspersions on her riding, and he was on her uncle’s land.
“We have not been introduced, but are you not my neighbor, Lady Madeline? I believe it was you I saw peeking over the wall on my last visit?”
Drat. An impulse she now regretted. Montford came to Pembury so rarely she’d taken advantage of the moment. “I apologize, sir. My maid was curious.” She shrugged. “I indulged her.” She would never admit to being consumed with curiosity about the rakish marquess of Pembury. Or that Jane held the ladder for Maddie to look over the wall. She had caught sight of him as he strode away along the garden path, and almost slipped off the rung of the ladder when he turned, as if aware he was being watched. He must have spotted her.
He was, as Jane enthusiastically described, a fine-looking man, Maddie had to admit, broad-shouldered and slim-hipped with dark, tousled hair. The slightly ironic smile in his blue eyes annoyed her. As if her riding skills were amateurish and amused him. Maddie refused to be put in her place by someone who did not know she was an accomplished equestrienne. She still kept the cup and ribbons from her childhood. She’d refused to leave them behind, along with other things which meant a lot to her. “Pearl can easily clear that hedge. I take her over it most days. Something must have gone wrong.”
He shrugged a shoulder, reminding her of how large he was. “Something can always go wrong. Especially on a sidesaddle. You should keep that in mind.”
“I feel I must thank you for your advice.” She gave a brisk, discourteous curtsey, her lips pursed.
His blue eyes were warm. “You’re welcome. Do you feel all right to ride? Or shall I give you a lift back to your stables? You can send your groom for the horse.”
“Thank you, but there is no need, sir,” she said firmly. “I have managed perfectly well before and shall do so again.”
