Lord Love a Duke (7 page)

She gave him a brilliant smile and dropped
an impudent curtsey. "Then name the hour and I shall meet you at
the stables."

"Eight of the clock should suffice. I shall
have our mounts readied for that time." He turned to back to her
mare but stopped himself and faced her again. “I almost forgot to
ask. What is her name?”

Juliet dropped her gaze and flushed with
embarrassment. “Herring,” she murmured.

The Duke visibly started, certain he had
misunderstood. “Beg pardon? What was that again?”

She gave a wry smile and replied with more
volume. “Herring. My mare's name is Herring.” She regarded the Duke
warily as he processed this information. She thought he fought to
suppress both a smile and laughter so she rushed to explain. “I, in
the wisdom that only a girl of fourteen possesses, determined to
name her something full of meaning and profundity. Having been
somewhat obsessed with Greek mythology for a while, I chose Hera
for her name. I gloated with youthful enthusiasm that she was queen
of the gods, so regal and bold. Unbeknownst to me, my brothers
decided to amuse themselves by conspiring with a groomsman to work
diligently to make my mount respond to another name – Herring. I
should have been suspicious when they began to tease me of Hera's
jealousy and spite, but I naively assumed they confused their myths
and thought nothing of it. She was the queen, married to Zeus, the
mother of goddesses. Day after day I whispered and cooed the name
Hera in her ear as we rode or when I groomed her, but as soon as I
left one of the three conspirators managed to be around to undo my
words. Within a month I could not understand why she failed to
respond to her name when called. All became clear as the family
decided to take a ride together one warm September afternoon. As I
voiced my happiness with my mare in every aspect save her name
response, Marcus assured me that she did indeed know her name.
After voicing my objections and trying in vain to call Hera,
Charles calmly whistled and called out to 'Herring.' To my horror
she immediately responded. My brothers thought it all quite a
lark.”

She paused in her story and Jonas was half
stunned and half amused. He could not hold back his eventual
chuckles. “You have to admit, it was a good prank, but I shudder to
think what your parents made of the name.”

“I will admit no such thing! The worst of
the story is that I suddenly realized I was desperately wishing to
name my beautiful mare after a vicious and vindictive woman who was
feared and despised, and insulted repeatedly by her husband. Simply
speaking her name makes one wonder if mountains will shudder and
men lacking pomegranates run away in fright. To have this
magnificent mount labeled with such a pejorative designation just
seems a travesty. A name is something carried for the entirety of
life, be it animal or human. But which is worse, I ask you – an
unstable queen of the gods or a bottom-feeding fish that tastes
worse than it smells. Picture your own steed with some such
derogation, then talk to me about the worthiness of that
prank.”

His humor dried up in the face of her
earnestness. “I do see your point. I should think you would like to
turn the prank around and claim the name proudly in defiance of
your brothers, but it would be hard to refer constantly to ones
horse with the name of a much-maligned fish. Why not simply change
her name again? It can be done, then you need not be ashamed but
speak with pride of your mare's title. Let us make this your joke.
She is a fiery, spirited beast. She could well hold her own against
a four-legged Zeus. Should you still like the name Hera?”

Juliet blinked several times as she
considered his words. A slow smile began to form before she
laughed, a full and happy sound that complemented the excitement
now brightening her face. "Is it possible? I thought her past the
age of naming. I had given in and called her Herring as noiselessly
as possible for five years now.” She looked over her mount and
dragged her fingers through her horse's silky mane. Her horse
responded by dropping her head and looking back at her mistress
with what could only be described as a loving expression. “Think
you I should change her name?”

“I think you should do whatever gives you
the greatest pleasure. Revert to Hera and claim the name that
brings men to their knees. Hera was also strong and determined, and
while her husband strayed he always returned. She was fiercely
loyal to those whom she loved and was loved by in return. Forget
the hold the joke had on you and your mare and do what you
wish.”

“I would that her name be Hera. She did,
after all, command no small amount of attention, be it good or ill.
My mare, while beautiful, has been known to frighten some gentlemen
with her temperament and energy.”

“Henceforth she shall remain Hera, with all
the accompanying fear, terror, awe, and respect that name
justifies.”

Juliet was ecstatic and grasped the Duke's
hands in appreciation. “Thank you for this. I am inclined to teach
my brothers a lesson by doing something truly wicked with her mane,
to live up to her namesake. Mayhap this autumn, when the family
returns to Somerset, I will introduce my mare with a
re-christening. Silly as it seems, you will have my undying
gratitude if this works.” She suddenly became aware of her clasp of
his hands and released him, stepping back slightly. She steered the
conversation back to the subject at hand. “And although it pains me
to say this, I shall now be forced to repay your good deed with
defeat. I apologize in advance, but confess I am looking forward to
our race tomorrow." She turned and hurried into the house, running
up the stairs to her room, removing her bonnet and gloves as she
ascended.

He was struck with the sudden image of her
removing more and more as she would have to exchange her day gown
for riding habit and he swallowed.
What on earth was coming over
him?
he wondered. Lady Juliet had always been his sister's
friend, one he rarely noticed, or even bothered to notice. He sent
Hera to the stables with the groom, with instructions to have both
their mounts saddled and ready to ride in the morning. He then
retraced his steps into the house and returned to the ledgers in
his study, still pondering just how much he was looking forward to
their outing. It made him a little nervous to realize he was
anticipating the company more than the race.

Juliet descended the stairs the following
morning in an emerald green riding habit of linen with gold
ornamentation down the front and similar embroidery at the cuffs in
the
au militaire
style. Her perfectly
fitted jacket showed her figure well. Her small beaver hat, dyed to
match her habit, was
wrapped with one braid of gold cording
with dangling tassel, and sat at a jaunty angle on her head. Jonas
was again struck by her arresting beauty, from the gold and auburn
highlights of her dark hair, the silver mercury of her eyes, and
the deep pink of her full lips. He watched as she smiled at his
butler and footmen, unaware of the effect she had on them as they
stood taller and worked harder for her pleasure.

"Lady Juliet," he called from the door to
his study. She stopped and turned to him and he flattered himself
to think her eyes grew brighter and her smile wider as she saw
him.

"Your Grace," she grinned. "Are we still
racing?"

He gave a nod and smiled in return. "Indeed
we are." He gestured toward the door and Hastings immediately
opened it to allow their exit. They descended the stairs and began
to walk side by side to the stables. "I realized, while waiting for
you, that we named no stakes for our race."

She looked up at him in surprise. "Stakes?
We do not race for the sport, or for the bragging rights? I did not
take you for a risk taker."

"I am no gambler, or at least not a very
practiced one. And the winner shall indeed brag, but I feel a small
wager would not be untoward."

She cast him a glance and he saw the
beginnings of a wicked smile twitching about the corners of her
mouth. "I must confess, I like the sound of a wager. Tell me, what
are the stakes?"

He rubbed his chin in contemplation as they
drew near the stables. Juliet saw that her horse was
saddled and
standing next to Paladin, the Duke's jet
black Thoroughbred stallion.

"I am unsure what would be of value to you
in a bet. Do you have a suggestion?"

He saw her smile fade to a frown as she
looked on her horse. She looked up at him. "I suggest the winner
receives a boon from the loser," she answered almost absentmindedly
as she looked over her mount. Falling into deep thought for a few
moments she finally broke her stare then turned to address the
Duke. "I fear my horse needs a new saddle. I shall ride astride,
Your Grace."

His brows rose in surprise but he quickly
began to laugh. "Of course you do. I should have known. You
continue to amaze and surprise me, my lady."

She flushed and felt the need to explain. "I
should justify that I ride astride only when in the country, and
especially when racing. I assure you it is quite proper, although I
would never be so bold as to ride thus through Hyde Park or in
unfamiliar company. And Papa put an end to my riding in breeches
last year after coming upon me by accident when he arrived home at
Bowood. After threats of a sound thrashing, I conceded it was
somewhat ill-advised a practice at my age, even though I was
secluded on our family estate in Wiltshire. As such, despite my
modest attire now, I fear I would leave a trail of ladies and
gentlemen in full apoplexy should I sneak a ride in Town. I did,
however, work with my modiste to fashion a much more workable habit
to facilitate my seat." Juliet realized with horror she was not
only babbling but should not be talking of garments with a
gentleman and blushed furiously. She was beginning to feel far too
comfortable with the Duke and was forgetting herself.

Jonas showed no affront at her topic and
simply called for a groom to re-saddle Hera before covertly
glancing over her riding habit again. He now noticed that she
carried no skirts over her arm, as was typical for ladies who
dressed for riding. Instead, on more thorough inspecting, it seemed
her skirt gathered between her legs and fastened to buttons on
either side of her small waist. The skirt was still full, the split
nearly unnoticeable, but his mind involuntarily began to picture
the length of leg hidden by the more functional garment. "Yes, you
would no doubt make an impression on the
ton
." He averted
his gaze, flustered that his thoughts strayed so easily. He did
feel strangely pleased that she was comfortable enough with him to
ride so unconventionally.

When the horses were ready they grabbed the
reins and walked their mounts to the edge of the seaside hill to
traverse the narrow path to the beach. They descended the slope in
companionable silence, neither feeling the need nor discomfort to
keep up unnecessary conversation. As soon as they reached the sand,
the Duke stopped his horse and faced Juliet.

"We begin at the end of the path then ride
straight through past the cove, around Horseshoe Rock, then back to
the path here. Agreed?"

Her eyes followed the course as far as she
could see as she mentally reviewed the route. "Agreed. And a boon
to be named by the winner. A reasonable boon. I mean one that is
easily granted by the loser."

"Agreed," he said, tossing his hat to the
sand. Juliet watched his movement then mimicked his action, untying
the ribbons of her bonnet and tossing it near his hat. Her thick
hair was braided and wound into a low bun at the nape of her neck.
He moved to aid her into the saddle, but stopped to watch instead
as she placed her left foot in the stirrup and swung herself up
into her seat without assistance. As she settled herself in the
saddle he noticed the look of pride and ease that settled on her
face as she talked quietly to her mount. She arranged her full,
split skirt modestly then looked to the Duke for the signal. He
swung his leg over Paladin and took up his mark.

"On my mark, then. Ready . . . . Steady . .
. . Go!" He shouted and gave his horse his head. Paladin took off,
his mane and tail flying straight behind as he lengthened his
strides and gathered speed. Jonas allowed himself a brief glance to
his right and saw that Juliet was not trailing by much. It would be
a good race, to be sure. Their mounts thundered down the beach, the
packed pebbles making the steps and strides of their beasts sure.
They neared the curve that began the cove, where the beach curved
in on itself by nearly one-quarter mile. Both horses negotiated the
shift in direction with nary a drop in speed. As they neared the
horseshoe-shaped rock, Juliet urged Hera with her knees and gained
ground on the Duke. She entered the turn first with the advantage
of taking the inside, changing the direction of her horse with an
ease and confidence that only comes from familiarity. A light spray
spewed from Hera's hooves as Juliet and horse ate up the ground
with impressive speed. The Duke belatedly realized she had probably
ridden this route as much as he growing up.

Juliet lengthened her lead by promptly
moving to the firmly packed sand nearer the tide line. From his
trailing position, Jonas noticed the pins had flown loose from her
hair, her braid flying as a pennant in the wind. Her skirt had
ridden up her legs to rest just below her knees, showing her
leather half-boots and a shapely calf pressed into Hera's flesh. By
God but she was magnificent, at one with her mount and enjoying
every minute of the race! He saw her glance back and throw him a
triumphant smile before she lowered her head to Hera's neck.