His son’s happiness? When had Lord Roberts ever thought of his son’s happiness? Did he really think that she would simply end her friendship because he asked it? The man certainly had an elevated view of his own knowledge and influence.
Javenia knew more about Algenon’s hopes and dreams than anyone else in the world. At least, she assumed so. It was possible in the last few years that he’d shared more with Eddie, John, and Nate, but she highly doubted it. There were certain things his pride wouldn’t allow him to share, things he had only shared with her.
Like the time she’d found him huddled in the grove shortly after he’d finished his studies at Harrow, a suspicious redness to his eyes. He hadn’t wanted to tell her why he was upset, and he probably wouldn’t have if she’d not been so insistent. In the end, he’d admitted that he didn’t think he’d ever be good enough for his father. That no matter what he achieved or how obedient he was, his father would still lord over him like he was a stable hand.
Much like Lord Roberts was doing now.
For all his apparent knowledge, there was one thing Lord Roberts did not understand. Algenon might surrender to his father’s demands, but Javenia would not.
Not when it came to matters of the heart.
Chapter 7
Algenon pushed his mount far faster than he should have. Poor Sterling was getting too old for such bruising rides. When they reached the last of the Blackthorn fields, Algenon reined him in, allowing the dappled grey stallion to slow to a trot and eventually walk.
Reaching forward, he gave him a firm pat on the neck. “Good boy, Sterling. I can always count on you to give me your all.”
The stallion shook his head, blowing air out of his nose. The poor horse quivered the slightest bit. This would definitely need to be their last hard ride. It was time to move on to a new mount and allow Sterling to retire to a younger set of riders. Age had mellowed him quite nicely and Algenon was certain he’d make a decent mount for Wilhelmina or maybe Frances. At twelve and nine, they’d soon be able to move up to full size horses, their ponies being rather small for growing girls.
Edwina had already inherited Charlotte’s old mare, Dela, last year when Sterling and Dela’s foal had grown old enough for Charlotte to ride. Algenon supposed it was time for him tochoose a mount from Sterling’s prized offspring. There were several that might do, but he wasn’t certain which would have adequate training to handle London’s chaos. His father had already taken the mare he’d intended to use as his next mount.
He scowled. That one action resembled his interactions with his father his entire life. He’d find something he liked and somehow the mighty Lord Roberts would find a way to take it from him. Currently, it was his freedom.
It had been three days since the Harvest Ball and already his father and Lord Falcross were openly discussing wedding contracts. Not that they could force him to sign them. The law prevented that, but Algenon feared stretching his father’s patience too far.
Moving the reins to the right, he turned Sterling back toward the house. Lord Falcross and Miss Weston were leaving today. A short reprieve before he would see them again next week in London.
The season was convening earlier than last year due to the general election—a result of the previous prime minister’s assassination this spring and Lord Liverpool’s subsequent royal appointment. Honestly, it could not come soon enough. Algenon craved the distance Town created between him and his father. A strange occurrence considering they lived in the same house. But Society had a strong pull on them both, making it easy to avoid one another, especially since his father would be busy launching Phillipa on Society.
The steady beat of hooves drew his attention as a horse approached from the direction of the house.
“The stablemaster said I might find you here,” Nate called as he approached.
“I might need to replace the man if he gives away my location to any shady character that comes calling.”
Nate grinned as he turned his horse to walk in the same direction as Algenon’s. “He is a bit too trusting. I could have been a highwayman come to rob you, and he just pointed right in your direction with the brush he was using to groom that pretty grey filly you refuse to sell to me.”
“If I sold you Mariposa, itwouldbe highway robbery. You know she’s meant for someone else.”
“Ah yes, the mysterious someone else. Are you ever going to give me their name or do I have to keep wondering if you’re making up a fictitious person because you want her for yourself?”
Algenon lifted a smug eyebrow and pressed his lips together. He had no intention of ever telling anyone who the filly was for until the gift had been given. Partly because he knew his father would object, and partly because the gift would be utterly scandalous.
At a little over two years, it would still be several more months before any saddle training could be done—time he had hoped he’d have to figure out a solution to his problems. Now, Mariposa would likely be given as a bittersweet goodbye.
The thought sobered him. “What really brings you to Blackthorn, Nate?”
“I came to save you from an overly emotional farewell visit to Havencrest before you leave for Town.”
Algenon grinned. “Yes, you would not wish Melior to see you cry.”
Nate’s head jerked back, a mock look of offense pulling at his mouth as the wind fluttered the tips of the brown hair that poked out from under his top hat. “Not me.You, you dolt.”
Algenon chuckled. Leave it to his friend to lighten his dark thoughts. After a moment he asked, “How is Melior faring?”
Nate sighed. “As well as can be expected. She is far more ill this time, which I didn’t think was possible, but she rarely leaves her bed.”
“Is she ill in body or in mind?”
