Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (26 page)

“Make no mistake, these are not riding horses. They’re bred for a ground-covering pace that can be sustained for hours, but not necessarily a smooth one. They’re meant for carriages.”

“But the pair you had in the park, their backs didn’t sway as one would expect with a pacer,” she stated. “Are those two intact?”

“Unfortunately, no. They were gelded to make them more manageable in town. Why?”

“Why else does one need a stallion?” She gave him a sly grin. “I was hoping to breed them. As I see it, men have been breeding ladies riding horses for centuries. I thought it was time a knowledgeable lady took matters into her own hands and developed a mount that was pleasing to the eye, comfortable to ride, yet could keep up with the pack in a hunt. So, I’ve decided to recreate the old-style palfrey, only with more substance and bone than a delicate or hot breed.”

“War horse palfreys?” When he began to laugh, she stopped him with a stern look.

“Not at all!”

“A hack, then?”

“I very much dislike that term,” she said. “Especially for a horse that is calmer in temperament than the hot-blooded Irish racers that are so popular these days. In truth, more often than not those horses are unsuitable mounts for a lady. Not only unsuitable, but uncomfortable as well. You men don’t have to ride perched in a sidesaddle taking all the jarring in the body. You ride astride with a foot in each stirrup using your knees to absorb the motion of the animal in your legs. As society will not allow us to do the same, I thought I’d do something about it.”

They returned to the library, and began their discourse of the merits of breeds and cross-breeding of which Michael knew very little. Elise thought it sweet that he pretended interest enough to listen, and did not seem to think any less of her as a lady for her plain-speaking on the subject. More importantly, she’d found her words again. This she could converse about without sounding like a nervous school girl. For
this
was her realm.

After the tour of the barns and gardens, Michael promised to show her the various fields and pastures on their rides during the week. The sun hung just over the western horizon and they turned toward the house. Elise stopped in her tracks, wondering how he was going to explain her presence to his family.

As though sensing her nervousness, Michael said, “You have nothing to fear. You’ll see, it will be a quiet week with family.”

Elise wished it were as simple as that. Later, she entered the drawing room where Michael said they would gather before dining and found him alone, his sister and her little ones nowhere around. She’d rushed through dressing for dinner for fear of being unforgivably late. Elise drew closer to where he stood near the terrace doors, wine glass in his hand as he stared out upon the graying light of the evening garden.

“I got caught up making some notes and lost track of the time,” Elise offered.

“Not to worry. Christina is not down either.” He raised his glass to take a sip of his wine.

Just then a footman arrived with a tray, she lifted a glass and sipped the unknown liquid which turned out to be punch. All for the better, she needed to keep her wits about her.

Michael looked at her with soft hazel eyes, which appeared more brown than green in the evening light. He smiled, the subtle act sending a thrill running through her. “What were you making note of?”

“Listing the physical traits of my mares and those of your stallions we saw today.” She sipped her punch and debated if she should tell him more. He seemed genuinely interested, so she went on. “I’m thinking of breeding my mares to a few of them, but I want to see your studs move again. This time not on a line like today, but free moving in the fields, under saddle if they are broke to ride, and in the harness. One of the main things I look for is whether the horse is naturally heavy on the forehand, I want a horse that uses his back end properly, and when they are on a line they can be trained to hide that flaw.”

He cocked his head and looked at her curiously. “Funny, I remember that old groom you have saying those same words a few years ago at Tatts when he was there looking for some mares.”

Elise lowered her eyes. Her entire body grew hot as she felt the shame clear to her toes. She hoped he didn’t make the connection that she and Beverly where with Old Ned that day in Hyde Park Corner three years earlier. “Old Ned taught me everything I know. It’s only natural that some of his ideas made sense to me and I continue to put them into practice.” She sipped from her cup and finished her drink. Then an awkward silence hovered over them. She needed to change the subject so he didn’t remember that day with any more detail than he already did.

The footman came for her glass and she refused another. “I wonder where everyone is?” She sounded too chipper, even to herself.

“My sister must be chasing children to bed.”

“Not anymore, brother,” said the Baroness as she glided into the room, taking the cup the elderly butler filled for her. Michael’s sister grinned, her eyes warm and friendly. “The girls wanted to take the kittens to bed with them. At first I wouldn’t allow it. Kittens should sleep in the kitchen. But in the end, the girls won out. Sophia had already fallen asleep with one kitten clutched in her arms. I didn’t have the heart to disturb her or the kitten.”

“Just so you know, those kittens were
her
idea, not mine,” Michael teased, pointing at Elise.

“Mother will adore them,” the Baroness said reassuringly. “She has a soft-heart for anything furry.”

Dinner was announced, and the three of them moved into the dining room. The long, medieval-style table held scars from hundreds of years use, but it was polished to a high sheen and looked to be lovingly maintained. The chairs on the other hand appeared only a mere one hundred years old, having more curves in the back and legs. Michael’s sister sat to his left, and Elise to his right.

“I don’t seem to remember Mama liking my furry mice when I was a child,” said Michael as the footmen delivered the first course and the butler began to fill their wineglasses.

“That’s because you were foolish enough to bring them into the house. If you’d left them outside, she’d never have known about them and they likely wouldn’t have wound up inside Lady Montague’s belly.”

At Elise’s gasp, Christina clarified, “Lady Montague was mother’s cat. A most foul-tempered creature if ever there was one.”

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Michael said. “We don’t need to talk about my pet rodents’ mortality as dinner is being served.”

“All right. So, brother, why the change of plans for mother’s birthday? Sabrina and I had matters well in hand for the party to take place at her house in Bath.”

“I realized that Ren hadn’t been here in many years, and his bride never. He hasn’t seen the changes to the place and I wanted to show him my improvements. You know that sunken Turkish bath was his idea. He has one at Haldenwood, complete with hot running water.”

“I went to have a peek at it.” Christina turned to Elise. “He told me about the bath’s construction in his last letter. You should see it, Elise. It’s not complete, but the painted tiles are laid and the workers are installing the pipes for hot water. When my husband arrives, I hope to get him to have a look. Hopefully I can convince him to build one for us as well.”

“Of course,” Michael replied. “Where is your husband? Off on a mission for the Crown?”

“He wouldn’t say. He’s been secretive of late, so I assume so. I did send word for him to come here instead of Bath. I expect him later in the week.”

“When did you arrive?” Elise wondered how long Michael had planned this change in arrangements and why?

“Michael wanted me here immediately,” the Baroness replied. “The girls and I arrived last night and fell directly into our beds. It had been a very long day of travel.” She looked at Michael and said, “Your driver grumbled that we would never arrive with all the stops we made.”

Interesting
, she thought. So this was a last minute change, and to ensure his sister was here at the necessary time, Michael sent his own driver. Elise wondered what prompted this alteration in plan. “When are your mother and sister arriving?” she asked.

“Later in the week,” Michael replied.

“Oh, they’ll be here sooner than that, I think,” his sister said, suddenly finding her plate most interesting.

“I see.” Michael’s voice clipped, even taut.

“When are your brother and sister-in-law coming, Elise?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she replied in between spoonfuls of soup. “Ren had some business to attend to that prolonged their leaving.”

“Are they bringing the baby?”

“Yes.” Elise grinned. “He’s such a good baby, and growing so fast that if they left him behind for a week, they might find him ready for school upon their return.”

“So true,” Christina said. “I can hardly believe Sophia is five years old now.” She turned to Elise, beaming with pride for her children, and said, “It seems like only yesterday, when my oldest, Emily, was born.” Looking at her brother, she added, “Speaking of the girls, I promised them you would take them for a ride in the morning.”

“Absolutely.”

Course after course, their dinner passed in companionable conversation. Stories of their childhood provided insight into how Michael had become the man he was. And Elise had to admit, if that were at all possible, that she loved him even more after today.

She definitely saw a different side to him. One that was unreserved and more open. Well, around her at least. His previous demeanor toward her was understandable as she truly had been a pest in her youth. A topic she very much appreciated went untouched as the evening wore on. She had to remember to thank Michael for not bringing it up.

When dinner was over, they retired to a small adjacent parlor where they might play a hand or two of cards before bed.

“No thank you, I think I shall retire,” said Christina, “I still haven’t recovered from my grueling day yesterday. Also, your nieces awaken very early. So I’d best recover some of my normal energy.”

They each bid his sister good night, and after she left, Michael lowered himself onto the sofa next to Elise and drew a deep sigh.

“Whatever brought that on?” Elise asked.

“I believe she’s sent word to my mother to appear sooner than planned. I wonder what she’s cooking up. And, before you tell me I’m imagining things, just this morning I received a letter from my mother stating she, Sabrina and her daughters all planned to arrive Thursday. As I requested.”

“Perhaps she simply wanted help with the arrangements for the party. You never did tell me how many people you invited.”

“This is a very small affair. We shall host just family—my mother, my older sister Sabrina, her daughters, and Christina with her family. Mother and Sabrina are both widows as you know. Christina’s husband, Lawrence, should arrive before Friday. You’ve met Christina’s three girls and Sabrina has two daughters as well: Phillipa is thirteen, named after Sabrina’s husband, Phillip, and her youngest Cornelia, is eleven. Phillip died at Waterloo.”

Elise nodded, remembering that Lord Knebworth passed during the war. “I’m sorry for your sister’s loss.”

“We all were. Phillip was a brave and good man. After his death, mother moved in with Sabrina down in Bath to help her with the girls. They seem to all get along very well together, and I see to it they never want for anything. Knebworth wasn’t as fortunate as some of us, but he was a good man, brave captain, and loved Sabrina and the girls.”

“I just realized something. Your mother has no grandsons.”

“Yes, I know. It’s a fact she reminds me of with each letter she writes and each time I see her.” He stood and went to a game table, opening its drawer and withdrawing a deck of cards. “Shall we?”

She shook her head. “I’m rather enjoying our conversation.”

“As am I, but—” He appeared uncomfortable, tugging at his cravat and collar. “Even with the sun having set, it hasn’t cooled enough to be comfortable tonight.”

“Michael remove the cravat,” she asserted. “Yes, it would be scandalous if we were in town, but here there is only you and I, and you have all but announced your intentions to my brother so I see no reason you have to keep that absurd noose around your neck to please people who are not here.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. “The jacket must go as well. I’m suffocating.” He then removed his jacket and tossed in on a chair, untied his cravat and removed it. Lastly, he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “I might as well get comfortable.” Then he smiled, and Elise was thankful to be seated, or her legs would surely have given way beneath her, so powerful did that simple, appreciative smile strike at her core.

“Would you care for something to drink? A dessert wine perhaps?” He moved to the sideboard and eyed the selection. “My uncle left me an excellent collection in his cellar.”

“That would be nice. Is there something light and sweet? Or just port?”

She watched as he scanned the contents of the sideboard. “Ah,” he said, holding up a bottle and reading the label. “You are in for a treat.” He poured two glasses, and carried them to the sofa, handing her one. “This is an ice wine from Bavaria. It’s made from grapes that are intentionally left on the vine to over ripen. Only when they have a certain fungus on the skin are they harvested.” He watched her sip from her glass.