The Wagered Wife (17 page)

Trevor approached the horse, allowing it to smell his hand, then caressed its nose. “So what did you do, my fine fellow, that you are being punished by having to stay in your room whilst everyone else is working or playing?”

The young groom—who could not have had more than twelve years—came over and patted the horse's cheek.

“This here's Chief,” the boy said. “Actually, the mistress named him Warrior Chieftain of Araby, but we calls him Chief on account of his bein' so proud, you see.”

“Aha,” Trevor responded in a musing tone.

“An' he ain't being punished.”

“No?”

“Nah. Jimmy—he's the head groom, you know—Jimmy said he got Chief all prettied up an not to let ‘im get mussed 'cause some lord was comin' for 'im today.”

“Ah, I see. A gentleman must not offend his valet.” Trevor gave the horse another pat and turned to the boy and asked conversationally, “What is your name, young man?”

“Jackie . . . uh, that is . . . Jack.” The boy squared his shoulders. “Me pa's Clarence Tanner, the head trainer here at Jeffries Farms.” There was a note of pride in the boy's voice.

“I am pleased to meet you, Jack Tanner.” Trevor solemnly offered the boy his hand, which Jack took after first wiping his own hand on his pants leg.

“Likewise, Mr. Jeffries, sir.”

Trevor felt the boy's gaze follow him from the stable. He hung around the stables and paddocks for some time, observing and occasionally asking a question. Gradually, he felt the reservations of the stable employees melt away.

He overheard one of them say, “The man knows horses.”

“Wonder why he don't ride,” another asked, but Trevor did not listen for the response.

Thereafter, he was often to be seen in and around the stables, though he put himself in the saddle only on rare occasions—to visit a distant farm or perform a similar duty. Even for these errands, he usually took the gig or had John Coachman drive him in a carriage. He often took Ashley along on such excursions.

 

 

Caitlyn knew Trevor visited the stables, though the two of them were rarely there at the same time. At first she had feared that, in his anger, Trevor would insist on their selling all the horses and returning the home farm to what it once was. He had not done so. Though he did not take an active role in management of the animals, he had gained a favorable reputation among Atherton's stable hands and trainers for his expertise.

Feeling that both she and the horse farm were in a state of limbo, Caitlyn tried to carry on as usual with training schedules and sales of blooded stock.

“I do wish I knew what Trevor intended to do,” she complained to Aunt Gertrude. They sat in the drawing room one afternoon after the vicar and his wife, among others, had departed.

“You could ask him.”

Caitlyn emitted an unamused little laugh. “I learned some time ago not to ask questions to which the answer might be unpalatable.”

“I should think that not knowing would be quite . . . well, painful. I must admit
I
find the situation between the two of you rather disconcerting.”

Caitlyn shrugged. “It is that.” Then she posed a question she had actually wanted to ask Trevor. “Have you any idea why Trevor holds this attitude he has toward horses?”

Aunt Gertrude gave her a surprised look. “He did not tell you? I assumed you knew.”

“Knew what?” Caitlyn felt a tingling of apprehension feather through her.

“Caitlyn, darling, I was so sure you did know.”

“Know what?” Caitlyn's voice rose slightly.

“About Terrence and Jason.”

“I know they died in some sort of carriage accident a few months before our marriage, but no one has ever spoken of the details.”

So Aunt Gertrude told her—to Caitlyn's growing wonder and chagrin. She told of the young Trevor and his love of horses and the young man who eagerly embraced life's adventures. She also related what she knew of his devastation and guilt over that accident.

“I honestly thought he would get over forswearing the pleasure he once got from just being around and working with horses.”

“He forswore it? Why did I not know? No wonder he was so very angry.”

“Oh, my. This is my fault.” Aunt Gertrude was clearly distressed. “I assumed this was something you and Trevor planned together before . . . that is, before he went to the Peninsula.”

“No. It was not.” Caitlyn leaned forward to pat the older woman's hand. “However, you must not burden yourself with such. The fact that Trevor and I have never communicated well is certainly not
your
fault.”

“But I was so sure. Sure you knew. And sure it did not matter so much anymore to Trevor.”

“Well, now we both know.” Caitlyn sighed. “I am not sure, given my anger when he left, that his wishes—had I even known them—would have been of major concern to me.”

“Oh, dear.”

“However, this does explain his comment about revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“Trevor accused me of using the horses as revenge. It must look that way to him.”

“Revenge?” Aunt Gertrude repeated with a ladylike snort.

“What a preposterous idea.”

“Not so very preposterous. I freely admit that a great deal of pride was the basis of wanting to make Atherton a success.”

“Understandable, my dear.”

“And we all know ‘pride goeth before a fall.' ”

“Actually, the line is ‘before destruction,' and you are not destroyed, love.”

“I hope not,” Caitlyn said, but privately she thought that perhaps the fragile relationship between her and Trevor had been damaged beyond hope.

“Now—about Melanie's visit . . .” Aunt Gertrude said brightly, shifting the subject.

It had long been planned that Melanie would bring her husband and children to visit Atherton after she had paid a brief visit to her father's chief estate.

Earlier, Caitlyn and Aunt Gertrude had planned to use the occasion of Melanie's visit to host their most ambitious social affair yet, a ball in Melanie's honor to which half the notable families in East Anglia would be invited. It was to be a very grand undertaking with a house party of some duration for faraway guests.

 

 

It was late afternoon when Melanie's carriages arrived. By the time she and Andrew had been properly welcomed and the children settled into the nursery, it was growing dark and the visitors barely had time to change for dinner.

Trevor had looked forward with eager anticipation to his sister's arrival. Perhaps Melanie's ebullient cheerfulness—along with the presence of additional guests at an extended house party—would ease the subtle tension that was a constant at Atherton these days. He may have cringed inwardly at seeing Latham's, Graham's, and Ratcliff's names on invitations, but their presence would be offset by the company of Theo, Moore, and Jenkins.

The next morning, Melanie and Andrew joined Caitlyn, Aunt Gertrude, and Trevor in the breakfast room. Melanie had come in from a walk in the gardens, unconcerned in the least about her wet shoes and damp hem.

“Caitlyn, those roses are marvelous. You must tell me your secret, for as soon as this business in Vienna is over, Drew promises me we will settle on his property in Kent, and I want roses as lovely as yours.”

“I shall happily share my limited expertise,” Caitlyn replied.

“I spied those stables, Trevor. I
do
want to see them up close. From the little I could see from this distance, there are some fine animals out there.”

Trevor swallowed uncomfortably. “That is Caitlyn's concern,” he mumbled.

“I beg your pardon?” Melanie said.

“The horses are Caitlyn's project.” Trevor hoped his tone was dismissive enough to divert his sister's attention.

He should have known better.

“Caitlyn's? And you have nothing to do with it? My brother, the consummate horseman, has a marvelous stable and numerous animals and dismisses his association with them?”

“Umm . . . Mel,” her husband interjected, apparently attuned to Trevor's discomfort, “perhaps we should discuss this later, my dear.”

She readily agreed. “Of course, Drew. We shall save it till Caitlyn and Trevor give us a proper tour of their facility.”

Andrew sighed aloud and shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture. Trevor groaned inwardly. Aunt Gertrude redirected the breakfast table conversation, but Trevor knew very well that his misgivings about the morning were not misplaced.

Nor were they.

Aunt Gertrude begged off, but the two couples made their way to the stables. Caitlyn and Melanie had stopped in the kitchen to fortify themselves with apples, carrots, and chunks of sugar for the horses. Trevor smiled on seeing their bulging pockets. Watching indulgently as the two women eagerly greeted the animals and the stable hands, he nevertheless felt some apprehension about his own presence here. It occurred to him that he did not feel such discomfort when he came on his own.

The four of them found few animals in the stalls, for most of them were roaming freely in the pastures or being put through training paces. They watched a harness race in progress as Clarence Tanner explained the merits of the horses involved.

Caught up in the trainer's comments, Trevor asked some penetrating questions. Tanner took these queries as a matter of course from the master of Atherton, but Trevor observed that the discussion brought a speculative gaze from Caitlyn. However, she made no comment.

“Oh, Trevor,” Melanie said later, impulsively taking his arm and thus leaving Andrew to offer Caitlyn a supporting arm. The four of them were alone in the middle of the stableyard. “This is so wonderful! I am so happy to see you at home among horses again. I have worried about you so much.”

Distinctly uncomfortable, he stopped short to face his sister. The other two were forced to be onlookers.

“Melanie,” he said, “you do not understand. I had nothing to do with these stables.”

“But these are such splendid animals . . .” Melanie replied with a sweeping gesture.

Trevor gave an equally sweeping wave of his hand. “This is all Caitlyn's doing. None of mine.” His voice held a note of bitter regret which he tried to hide. Melanie caught it nonetheless.

“Are you telling me you will have nothing to do with this splendid horse farm?”

“Nothing.”

“Unbelievable.” She turned to Caitlyn. “Can this be true?”

“More or less,” Caitlyn said, sounding rather hesitant.

“But
why?
” Melanie demanded of Trevor.

“Melanie,” her diplomat husband admonished, “perhaps this is a subject best left to Trevor and Caitlyn?”

“No! He is my brother, and I want to know precisely why he is taking such an idiotic course!”

Andrew gave Trevor a shrug as much as to say “I tried.” Knowing Melanie to be as persevering as the proverbial dog with a bone, Trevor grimaced at him sympathetically.

“Why, Trevor?” Melanie demanded again.

“You know why, Mel,” he said in a sad voice. “These are fine animals, but they are bred to race and show. It was my pursuit of such that killed Terrence and Jason.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake, Trevor! That was—what?—six years ago. And you are still wallowing in self-pity?”

Caitlyn and Andrew gasped. Trevor felt himself blanching.

“Mel—” her husband started.

“I don't care,” Melanie said. “That is what it is. Terrence and Jason died in an unfortunate accident.” She turned to Trevor. “An accident, you hear?”

“Yes, but—” he began.

She rushed on. “And if Terrence could see what you have done to yourself over an
accident,
he would be for taking you behind that stable and thrashing some sense into you.” She gestured to a nearby structure. “As for Jason, he is probably laughing himself silly over your self-absorbed behavior.”

“I think you have said quite enough.” Trevor's words sounded tight, forced.

“Oh, Trevor,” Melanie cried, tears in her eyes and in her voice, “do you not realize how they loved you? I love you. Terrence and Jason never would have made such an untoward demand of you. Why? Why must you do this to yourself?”

Too shocked by her words to make a coherent reply, he simply stared at her, unbelieving, for a moment. Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

“What have I done?” Melanie cried, slumping against her husband.

He patted her shoulder. “Ah, Melanie. My sweet, wonderful, impetuous Melanie. How could I help loving you?” He kissed the top of her head.

“Well, I doubt Trevor is feeling very loving toward me at the moment.” Melanie sniffed rather indecorously.

“No, but perhaps he is thinking,” Caitlyn said.

Trevor deliberately absented himself from luncheon. Perhaps he was being a bit childish, he mused, but he could not bring himself to face family members yet. He wandered into a wooded area, roaming around aimlessly until he finally found a fallen tree on which he sat, lost in thought, until the elongated shadows around him caught his attention.

Later, when he entered the drawing room before dinner, he found the rest of the family already assembled.

“Hello, everyone.”

They all turned to him with concerned expressions. Melanie looked particularly distraught.

“Oh, Trevor, I am so sorry,” she cried as she sprang from her chair and threw her arms around his neck. “I should never have opened my big mouth. Please forgive me.”

He hugged her rather awkwardly and patted her shoulder. “It is all right, Melanie.” His voice husky, he raised his gaze to meet those of others in the room, for his next words were intended for them as well as Melanie. “You were right, Mel. I . . . I guess I was pretty self-absorbed.”

She stepped back and gave him an arch look. “Yes, you were. But that did not give me leave to berate you so.”

His grin was a little shaky. “When have you ever waited for permission to rip up at me?” She gave her head a saucy flip as he went on, his arm still around her waist. “And this time I guess I needed it. You were right about what Terrence and Jason would think.”

He released his sister and looked at Caitlyn. His eyes held hers for a long moment. “And you were right, too, Caitlyn. This is horse country. I shall endeavor to be more supportive from now on.”

“Thank you, Trevor.” Her eyes seemed inordinately bright.

There was a heavy pause. No one seemed to know what to say. Then Andrew cleared his throat.

“May I get you a sherry, too?” he asked Trevor with a gesture at others' glasses.

“Yes, please.”

The tension eased as Melanie and Trevor began to regale the others with stories of their shared childhood adventures with horses. The easy atmosphere continued over dinner. With only the five of them present, the table was set with all the places at one end and the conversation was a free-wheeling continuation of what had started earlier.

Trevor was pleased to note the easy camaraderie between his wife and his sister. He was already well aware of the motherly concern Aunt Gertrude extended to Caitlyn. It struck him that this—the teasing, the bickering, the caring, and the protectiveness—
this
was what a family was all about. He also realized in a flash of insight that so long as he and Caitlyn were at odds,
their
family would be incomplete. He glanced at his wife and caught her looking at him. He thought he saw questioning vulnerability in her eyes before she quickly lowered her gaze.

Forgoing the usual male ritual of port and cigars after dinner, Trevor and Andrew joined the ladies immediately for tea in the drawing room. When an impromptu game of whist was suggested, Aunt Gertrude excused herself and, taking up her embroidery, was content to offer pertinent comments now and then.

The two couples recombined after each game. It was the men versus the women the first time. The women won handily. In the second game, Trevor partnered Melanie against Caitlyn and Andrew.

“As much as we have played together in the past, dear sister,” Trevor said in a great pretense of disgust, “we should have won that game.”

“Mayhap Drew and Caitlyn concentrated more. Next time we shall cheat.”

“Oh, no. I can win without cheating. And I will prove it—but with a new partner.”

“Hmmph.” Melanie sniffed. “Well, Caitlyn, that means you are stuck with him this time.”

The four players paused as Aunt Gertrude bade them good night, then resumed their play with a continuation of the lighthearted banter that had marked the earlier games.

“There!” Trevor said with a laugh as he and Caitlyn took the winning hand. “You see? All I needed was the right partner.”

Melanie gave him a solemn look. “The right partner. Truly, that is all any of us needs.” She yawned rather indecorously. “And I am taking
my
partner to bed.”

When Melanie and Andrew had left the room, Trevor turned to Caitlyn and asked in a deliberately flirtatious tone, “Do you intend to leave me all by lonesome self?”

“Not . . . not if you do not wish it.”

He thought she seemed a bit nervous at being alone with him. He went to the sideboard and brought a wine decanter and two glasses to a low table before a settee near the fireplace.

“Join me?” he invited.

She nodded and took the glass he offered, sipped, and set it on the table. She sat on the settee rather stiffly, he thought as he sank down beside her. He was rather nervous himself. He set his own glass on the table and half turned toward her, his arm on the upholstery behind her.

“Caitlyn.” He waited for her to look at him and then held her gaze. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“What you said earlier . . .?”

“About supporting you in establishing a horse farm.”

She closed her eyes briefly and sighed. “Thank you. Thank you, Trevor.”

She impulsively squeezed the hand lying across his lap. When she would have released her grip, he refused the separation, intertwining his fingers firmly with hers. Intensely aware of their physical contact, he wanted only to extend it. He lowered his other arm to her shoulder and pulled her closer. She looked up at him with a clear question in her gaze.

“Trev—?”

But her question was lost as his lips captured hers in a kiss that was at first tentative, exploring. He felt her stiffen; then her lips softened and returned the pressure of his. With a low groan, he gathered her closer, his tongue seeking entry, which she readily granted. He felt her hand along his jawline, then kneading the back of his neck. The kiss deepened. His hand moved up to cup her breast. She murmured softly and seemed to move into him. His desire soaring like a balloon, he was torn between wanting this moment to continue and wanting to extend their lovemaking to the next level.

Suddenly she seemed to come to her senses and pushed against him. “Trevor, no. I cannot. Please.”

There was a panicky note in her voice. He leaned back, the ache in his loins a manifestation of his yearning. He held her quietly for a moment.

“It's all right, Caitlyn. I will not pressure you.” He rose and extended his hand. “Come. Let us go up.”

She took his hand and allowed him to keep his hold on her until they were at her door.

“Good night, Trevor.”

“Sleep well, my dear.” He brushed his lips against hers in the merest whisper of a kiss before turning to his own door.

 

 

Caitlyn lay awake staring at the canopy over her bed. The dim light from the fireplace bounced off the ridges and crevices of the familiar brocade design. She wallowed in a pool of self-recrimination. Why had she stopped him? She might even now be languishing in his arms but for her own . . . her own-what? Fears. Fear of Trevor? No-o-o. Then the answer hit her. No. Fear of herself. Fear of her reaction to him. Fear that the wild desire in her own heart would bring only more pain, more rejection.

If only—

If
only,
she thought.

Finally she slept.

 

 

The next morning, Caitlyn reported to the stables early. This was the time she usually met with the head groom to check on training progress and other matters of concern with a growing herd of fine, blooded stock.

She was surprised to see Trevor there before her. He was in the office conferring with Tanner and the head groom. Well, she told herself, he certainly wasted little time.

“Good morning,” she called, and all three men turned with welcoming smiles and answering greetings. As her eyes met Trevor's, she wished, incongruously, that she had donned the more attractive blue riding habit rather than her old, faded gray one. “You started without me?” She kept the question light.

“Uh . . . not really, ma'am,” Tanner said. He was a rather squat, barrel-chested man with a florid complexion and friendly black eyes. He walked with a limp, for a horse had rolled over on him several years ago.

“Clarence and Jimmy were showing me the books on our newest acquisitions while I waited for you,” Trevor said.

She noted his use of the word
our
even as the rest of his statement captured her attention. “Waited for me?”

“To go riding. I shall accompany you this morning, if I may.” He gave her a disarming smile that had her heart imitating a flutterby.

“Of course.” She nodded in acquiescence, but she wondered at this sudden transition in her non-riding husband. However, she had no intention of questioning him in front of their employees.

There was some more small talk about various animals and routine discussion of training problems.

“I am thinking of taking the grays to Newmarket for the show and races along with Sheik's Queen and those other teams,” Caitlyn said to Mr. Tanner. “Can they be ready by then?”

“Oh, I'm sure they can,” Tanner replied. “Fact is, they're ready now.”

“Really?” She was surprised.

“Yes, ma'am. Don't you agree, sir?” Tanner's asking for Trevor's opinion caused her eyebrows to rise in further surprise. Tanner never needed confirmation of his judgments about horses. The trainer apparently noted her reaction, for he added to her, “Mr. Jeffries has been watching us work the grays.”

“I see.” She was thoughtful for a moment. “Hmm. When our houseguests arrive in a few days, I think it would be best if we did not show off the grays overly much.”

“Ri-i-ght.” Jimmy grinned in approval.

Tanner nodded. “No sense showing the competition what they're up against.”

“The competition?” Trevor asked.

“Harrison and Bowles,” Jimmy said.

“Especially Harrison.” Tanner's tone had taken on a stony quality.

“I am not sure I understand.” Trevor's brow wrinkled in consternation.

Caitlyn answered. “This particular show will draw a great deal of attention among buyers. It was already being talked about in London during the season.”

“I thought every horse show did.”

“Yes. But this one has a number of new farms—or ones not long established—pitted against each other.”

“Ah, I think I see. Bowles and Harrison are trying to establish a good name for their farms.”

“As are we,” she said.

“Harrison thinks he has an edge with those chestnuts of his.” Tanner sounded skeptical.

“We'll just see about that,” Jimmy put in.

Trevor looked at Caitlyn, then shifted his attention back to Tanner. “What about the Ratcliff Farms? Will they not be at the meet?”

“He'll be there—don't you doubt it! But he concentrates on stock for riding and racing, not those trained for harness,” Tanner explained.

“And Ratcliff Farms already have an established niche in the market for good horses,” Caitlyn said. “The stakes are higher for the rest of us.”

“So why did you invite the enemy into your own territory?” Trevor demanded. “I saw both Harrison and Bowles on your guest list.”

“I could hardly leave them off. They would be miffed, and probably suspicious as well. And they are neighbors. It just would not be the thing to do.”

“No. I suppose not,” Trevor agreed.

“Still, we need not reveal all our secrets to them.” Her smile included all three men in her conspiracy.

A few minutes later, Trevor boosted her into her sidesaddle and they set off. Very aware of his presence, she noted with some irony that Jimmy, who usually accompanied her on morning rides, never commanded so much of her attention as Trevor did. She also noted that Tanner's and Jimmy's respect for Trevor's horsemanship was not misplaced. The man was a superb rider, handling a spirited animal with ease and quickly attuning himself to the large black horse he had chosen.

He apparently noticed her surreptitious glances at him, for he pulled his mount alongside hers and said with a laugh, “Surprised you, eh?”

“Well . . . yes.”

“Riding is like . . . well, like many other physical activities—one never forgets how, once the skill is mastered.”

She looked at him, caught a teasing twinkle in his eyes, and felt herself blushing furiously.

He chuckled and pointed. “Race you to the top of that hill.”

She gave him a speaking look and he added, “All right—you can have a lead as far as that boulder.”

He pointed again, and she immediately urged her mare forward. She pushed the mare hard and felt her respond to the competition. The black and his rider came up beside them just as they arrived at the top of. the designated hill. Both Trevor and Caitlyn were out of breath, and as they reached the goal, both were laughing. He dismounted and came round to help her dismount.

“You cheated,” he challenged as his hands reached for her waist.

“I did not.” Her grin belied her words as she looked down at him.

“You did so. You were supposed to await my signal.”

“Well, why did you not say so?” she asked in a pure mockery of innocence. She placed her hands on his shoulders for balance and slid into his arms.

“Stupid me,” he murmured as his arms tightened around her and he lowered his mouth to hers.

Fleetingly, she wondered if he referred only to the banter over the race. Then she lost herself to the ecstasy of his lips on her own. Her arms around his neck, she clung to him, leaning her body into his. She had wanted him to kiss her again, but the vehemence of her desire surprised her. She pulled away slightly.