His Lordships Daughter (11 page)

“He’s just showing off.” Phyllipa apologised turning to her guest, but was pleasantly surprised at his reaction.

“He is a real beauty!” Steven’s eyes shone with excitement. “But, he needs a good talking to.” He walked into the stable and for a few moments, Phyllipa wondered what he was doing? Then he reappeared with a length of rope in his hand. Walking up to the groom who was still being dragged around by the ill-tempered horse, he quickly slipped the end of the rope through the bridle, tying it off in a running slip knot. The animal snorted, backing away in alarm as he banged his hooves heavily on the concrete floor, but Steven slowly, a bit at a time, paid out the rope, until the horse was roughly eight feet away from him.

Sultan stood still, his great shoulders heaving. His eyes flashing dangerously as the rope began to tighten, gently easing him towards Steven, who was talking, almost crooning to him softly. Phyllipa and the groom watched, completely fascinated by it all. She knew she was watching an expert, as gradually the horse, although still
struggling to free himself from the rope, reluctantly neared Steven, who slowly putting out his hand, dug his fingers into the back of its throat, massaging the loose flesh. The equine head jerked in appreciation, the red glare in its eyes slowly quietened, then died as the massive body slumped comfortably as the screaming tension was released from
its
muscles.

Still talking softly to him, Steven gently blew down
its
ears whilst his fingers playfully toyed with the velvet mouth.

Sultan snickered, showed his teeth for a few seconds, then stood quietly!

Putting his foot into the stirrup, her boss pulled himself up into the saddle and turned to Phyllipa who still stood transfixed, amazed that anyone could have pacified the horse so quickly. “Ready when you are,
Ms
Gore.” A faint smile played around his face.

“That was wonderful.” Her eyes shone with praise as she pulled herself into the saddle of her own horse with the help of the groom. Walking her mount out of the yard on to the dirt road with Sultan moving comfortably at her side, she turned to her companion. “Where on earth did you learn all that?”

Her boss chuckled “My father taught me, and his father taught him.”

“A family business eh?” she looked at him accusingly. “You talk to horses! I’m very impresses Steven. I nearly didn’t believe all that “Horses are horses” stuff!”

“Oh, ye of little faith!” he quoted.

Phyllipa smiled then burst out laughing.

Steven patted the sleek back neck of the stallion “He’s in superb condition. What are you going to do with him?”

“I don’t know.” Phyllipa replied. “He’ll stand somewhere
, but you will have to ask my father.” Nudging her heels into her mount, the chestnut broke into a gallop sending her hair flying from under her riding hat as the autumn breeze shuffled and
murmured
through a hostile sky. Turning in the saddle she looked at her companion, noticing the easy, almost slipshod way he sat in the saddle. In her book it was the stance of a perfect horseman.

For a few minutes they galloped in silence, then slowed their mounts to a canter. “I still have something to ask you.” Steven looked at her hopefully.

“You have the floor!”

“Will you marry me?”

“Pardon!”

Steven nervously cleared her throat. “Will you marry me!” he repeated.

They both reined their horses in. a red chested robin with ruffled feathers was picked up and hurled into the air by a sudden gust of wind., as a flurry of leaves swirled around the horses feet. Steven leaned over and placed his hand on her arm. “I want you to be my wife.” He pleaded, but Phyllipa slowly shook her head as her eyes, normally so crystal clear, clouded with some hidden emotion. “I’m honoured that you should ask me, Steven. But, I’m not looking for marriage. Not yet!”

Her boss frowned and bit his lip. “Perhaps this isn’t the time or the place?” he hazarded, a little crestfallen.

Phyllipa squeezed her legs into the chestnut. “At the m
oment there is no time or place that would get a positive on your question.”

“I
did think that after the other night…?” he stopped as she quickly interrupted him. “Yes! What did you think after the other night?” she snapped, a touch of hostility in her tone.

“I thought perhaps you and I would be better married to one another.” He replied, lamely, not quite certain that he had said the right thing.

“All on strength of one night?” her gloved fingers playing around the corners of her mouth and her eyes twinkled. “Let me explain something to you Steven and give you the woman’s side. I have the same physical needs, the same desires, almost the same everything as you. Almost! But the parts of us which are different go very well together.” Her eyes bored into his. “Do you understand what I am trying to say?”

“I think so. But, I’ve never heard love expressed like that before.”

“Of course you haven’t, because it is not love!” she snapped.

He frowned. “Ah! You probably think it was just lust or a one night stand, or even something in support of oysters sort of thing? Well, you would be wrong. Completely and utterly wrong! It wasn’t any of those things. It was because I love you. That’s what it was all about.”

Phyllipa sighed
. “Oh Steven. Lateral thinking is not your strong suit is it? Did I say anything about it being your lust?”

He
reined
Sultan in so abruptly, the Black nearly sat down. “Are you telling me that the champagne and carefully arranged diner was all a play just to get me into bed with you?”

Phyllipa laughed out loud and Steven stared at her, accusingly “Well?”

“I love your face when you get all excited.” She answered, still laughing.

“ I’m
serious…”

Reaching over, she pulled his face towards her and kissed his mouth. “Of course you are Steven, that’s your trouble.” She clicked her tongue with mock annoyance. “One night of ecstasy and you are chasing marriage vows.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Just like that!”

The frown disappeared from his face. “Now I understand, you think my offer was me just doing the decent thing..?”

“No! I don’t think that at all.” Her eyes clouded again
. “I really believe you think you love me.”

“I know I do.” He maintained “But if you are going to reject me completely. Do it slowly, I bleed!”

Phyllipa squeezed his arm affectionately. “It is not a definite No!” she explained, happy to see his face brighten. “Let me call it an extended
rain check
. It will give us time to really get to know one another.” He e
yes twinkled again. “After all,
there may be things which we may not see eye to eye on.”

“S
uch as?”

“We won’t know till we get there, will we?”

Steven checked his horse. “There wasn’t anything we didn’t like about one other last night.” A hint of admiration sounded in his voice.

“Exactly!” Phyllipa retorted. “I rest my case. Now let you and I find out what we are like outside the stud room, eh?” she looked at him coyly. “But not for long!”

Her companion stared, and
shook his head. “
When
I first met you, I said that you were different. Completely and utterly.”

“Race you back to the yard.” She challenged, touching the chestnut with her heels, breaking him into a brisk gallop. The suddenness of her actions enabled her horse to head the stallion for a brief moment. But, as soon as Steven asked, the horse swept past like a dark shadow and when she arrived back at the stables
, her boss was already fussing over him as the groom removed the saddle from its back.

“How is your food appetite?” she asked, dismounting.

“Hungry! I’m looking forward to my breakfast!”

She smiled and removed her riding hat. “I would like you to meet my father.” Tucking his arm under her own, they walked through the pillared entrance of the house and into the breakfast room. “Then after we have eaten I’d like you to meet something else.”

Steven’s eyebrows lifted. “Am I going to like it?”

Phyllipa nodded “I hope so.”

Lord Hemingham looked up from his eating, eyeing Steven curiously. “You both appear to have enjoyed your ride.”

His daughter chuckled “Yes, we did.” She looked at her companion. “At least it was different.”

“Really?” her father enquired, his eyebrows lifting.

Phyllipa kissed his cheek. “Just a private joke father.” She told him, introducing the two men to one another. They shook hands and Henry Inchcape-Gore stared again at their visitor. “So you are the Steven Grant that takes my daughter away from me?”

S
teven nodded his head. “Yes, my lord
. I employ her as my trouble-shooter.”

Henry stopped eating and looked at his daughter. “What is he talking about?”

“I chase people.” She explained “I’m what’s known as a gofer!”

.” Her father shrugged his shoulders, none the wiser. “It sounds interesting!”

Steven helped himself to a plate of bacon and eggs from the huge sideboard and sat at the table. Phyllipa sat opposite with her scrambled eggs on toast
. “Steven exercised Sultan this morning!”
Phyllipa informed her father.

“Did you really?” Lord Hemingham was impressed. “It’s not everyone who can handle him.”

“He talked to him, whispering things in his ear.” Phyllipa continued shaking her head. “Goodness knows what he said to him, but, whatever it was it did the trick. He is now very much quieter.”

“He’s a magnificent animal.” Steven said, admiringly. “A bit bad tempered, but so would I be if I was locked up all day.”

“He is too valuable to be left outside.” Henry explained.

“Would you think it rude of me if I was to ask you what you are going to do with him?” he’ll be with us for another five months
, the he leaves to stand at stud. I won him in a card game!” He looked at his daughter and then back at his guest. “But, you Steven appear to be one of the few people who have managed to get on his back, let alone ride him out.”

“Have you something on your mind father?” Phyllipa’s eyes were inquisitive.

Her parent shrugged his shoulders and wiped his mouth with a white napkin. “It’s just that the horse, as Steven implied, needs regular exercise, that’s all.”

Steven, buttering toast, suddenly looked up, aware that both Phyllipa and her father had stopped eating and were looking at him, as if expecting him to say something, but he put both hands in the air in mock surrender. “Whoa! Just a minute!...I’ve got a business to run….and I don’t get a lot of time.” Phyllipa’s eyes fixed on his, impassively.

Perhaps I could manage a couple of mornings a week.” He agreed, hesitantly.

“Sultan would like that.” Phyllipa looked across at the table. “Wouldn’t he father?”

Lord Hemingham nodded. “Yes! He certainly would, and so would I.” He looked more closely at their guest. “You will always be welcome as Rosewood Steven!”

Phyllipa looked up in surprise. It wasn’t often her father voiced an invitation like that. In fact, he never did, and his daughter started thinking. He might just have picked up some togetherness vibes between herself and their visitor, or he may just be lifting the starting gate on his own approach to matchmaking. After all, he would never be happy until he saw his own daughter, steadied, wedded and bedded. “Well!” she cried, happily looking at Steven and smiling. “That’s settled then.”

Owing to their healthy appetites, the rest of the meal was completed in silence, until Steven took a last drink of his coffee and looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go!” he looked
at Phyllipa “And so have you Ms
Gore! In thirty minutes we are due in the Works,” Phyllipa nodded, touched her mouth with a napkin and moved from the table. “I have to change.” She looked at Steven. “But, I would like to show you something before you leave!” excusing herself, she grasped her boss by the arm and guided him through the house to her own private quarters.

Steven stood in her drawing room and gasped at the sumptuous surroundings “Some place!”

“I like nice things!” Phyllipa
murmured
, slipping out of her riding jacket as she walked through to her private room. Quickly she removed her riding boots. “What is it you wish me to see?” Steven asked curiously, walking through the door only to pull up sharply.

“Sorry!” turning on his heel, he walked straight out again. “Forgive me I didn’t know you were changing. I was just admiring the wonderful décor of the place. Sorry!”

“Oh do stop apologising Steven and come in.” Phyllipa shouted to him. “I’m just going to take a quick shower
.” She stopped as he came into the room again. His eyes hungrily devouring her naked body clad only in a huge fluffy bath towel. She smiled as she walked over to the New Yorker. “This is what I would like you to see!” Steven stood and looked at it.

“What is it?” He asked, staring at the contraption with a curious gleam in his eye.