Hebe worried her lip. Heard the mahogany longcase clock chime two in the morning and the contented hoot of an owl embarking upon its nightly hunt.
Her sharp mind muttered:Don’t be a simpleton. He will kiss you again. Be on your guard.
Her treacherous body whispered:Don’t be a simpleton. He will kiss you again…
“Don’t kiss me in the music room,” she blurted, then held hand to mouth. The champagne had surely blunted her manners.
Those sculpted lips twitched. “I promise, Hebe. Come, it’s a surprise.”
Without another word, Lord Ernest grabbed a lantern and she allowed him to lead her up the oak staircase as the castle darkened behind them.
The return carriage ride had been a subdued affair, Aunt’s thoughts perhaps years back in time, smelling the daisies that Redmond O’Conner had once looped in her saddle, or recalling his romantic words in her ear. Hebe had offered to remain with her, for comfort, but a sorrowful smile and mellow whisper had declared Aunt’s need for bed, alone with her dreams.
So here Hebe was, trailing after a rake.
She debated subjects. “Do you miss Town? The clubs, theatres and gambling dens?”
A wall sconce flickered in their wake, the gold spectacles he’d donned glinting.
“No. But I do not like to feel…bored.” He grimaced. “That makes me sound like some privileged brooding aristocrat, but what I mean is that I have bags of energy, always have. And I dislike sitting around. I need to do things.”
“And there’s nothing to do here?” She frowned as they arrived at the grand landing. “Surely your brother would be only too pleased to have you oversee the estate and so forth.”
“Yes, but ultimately this all belongs to him. I needed a focus of my own.” He ushered her down the Long Gallery, the plush rug wide enough for them both despite tables and chairs lining the walls. “And now I have one with my stud breeding venture, but it was only this year that I persuaded my brother to hand over the stable management.”
“But you are so good with the horses, why wouldn’t he have?”
“Ah.” He grinned, all white teeth. “I may be able to coax a frightened mare to calm or lure a new-born foal to feed from my hand, but it’s my business acumen that I believe he questioned.” He shrugged, a gilded oak leaf fluttering. “I’m hopeless at sums.”
So rare for aTongentleman to admit shortcomings and she could only admire his honesty. “You went to Eton and Oxford?”
“Yes, but…” He tugged the handle of an arched door to reveal a room with shadowed pianoforte and harp. “As a lad, I enjoyed the outdoors, so to be cooped up learning Latin was rather horrendous. Also, previous to Eton, my formal education had been…non-existent as we had no money for a tutor, and the other schoolboys…” He shrugged once more. “Well, let’s just say I loathed it there. In due course, I used humour to make friends but…”
And Hebe could envisage it all…
That wild boy who’d slept in the forest and knew the clouds by sight abruptly required to sit within four walls of a schoolroom, don a tight cravat and learn his numbers. To renounce vibrant nature for a dead language, the other boys mocking his lack of learning, ridiculing his abundance of country knowledge.
“Is the duke overseeing the business side then?”
He paused in the centre of the room. “No, I got talking to Lord Sancroft one night at White’s. He’d inherited decent studs but knew not what to do with them, but he’s got a sound business mind.”
“And you brought his studs here and took over the management of the stables?”
“Pff. It took a while to persuade Casper. I… Are you sure you wish to know all this? No one else ever does.”
“Yes.” And she realised that she truly did, to understand the man behind the London mask.
“Well, Casper had no trust in me as I’d gambled my way around London for quite some time, and… It sounds ridiculous but…” He raked a hand through his hair – tousling it like sheaves of wheat. “I longed to join the cavalry when younger, for the responsibility and comradeship, the sense of pride, but Casper denied me. I thought if I behaved reprehensibly that he’d want shot of me and buy me a commission.”
“But he never did?”
“No. And I just…ended up on some downward bloody spiral. I should have just talked to him and not been so damn juvenile, but he is not the only one with Rothwell stubbornness. I felt agitated, resentful with an unsated restlessness. I was not used to being an idle nobleman and doing…nothing.”
Hebe grinned. Was ever a rake so candid? “Why did he not buy you a commission? ’Tis an honourable profession for a second son.”
A flush heated Lord Ernest’s cheeks as he carefully placed the lantern to the pianoforte. “Casper… Well, he said he didn’t want to lose me in battle. Our family is small. We lost a beloved sister when young. But Casp, he’s like a bloody clam and never told me this. Before his recent marriage, he doled out commands, never explanations.”
“As he’s my patron, I couldn’t possibly comment,” she declared with a smile.
