Janice Preston - Lady Cecily And The Mysterious Mr Gray

‘Morning, Absalom. Care to join us? We thought we’d take advantage of the peace while the ladies recuperate after another late night.’

The ladies... Lady Perfect... Without volition, he looked in the direction of the house, even though he knew it was out of sight. Was she awake? Did she think of him—wonder what he was doing—as he did her? He thrust down that thought. Of course she did not. She was a lady. He was a Romany. Why would she think of him? But maybe his listening, and his advice, such as it was, had helped to ease her mind. At least she had not succumbed to a fit of the vapours when he had so far forgotten himself as to kiss her.

With that he must be satisfied.

‘Thank you, but no,’ he replied to Daniel. ‘I promised your sister I would look at her lame mare this morning.’

‘Oh, good man,’ Daniel said. ‘Thea dotes on Star. She’d be broken-hearted to lose her and Pritchard seems at a loss to know what’s wrong.’ Pritchard was the Markhams’ head groom. ‘Absalom here is something of a natural healer, your Grace.’

‘Leo. I told you to call me Leo. After all, we’re family now.’

Zach could see by the pink that tinged Daniel’s cheeks how pleased he was by the Duke’s remark. He bit back a smile as he imagined the man’s reaction if he were to have the gall to call him Leo.

‘Well, enjoy your fishing,’ he said. The sun was fully up now, revealing a cloudless, periwinkle sky. ‘You have perfect weather for it.’

‘Indeed we have.’ It was the Duke’s son who responded, with a grin. He slapped Daniel on the back as he continued, ‘Markham’s promised some great sport. He’s boasting of barbel the size of seals.’

Daniel laughed. ‘That’s something of an exaggeration, but we do catch the occasional whopper.’

The three men continued to the river bank and turned to walk downstream, jumping across the brook. Zach watched them go with a touch of envy prompted by their sureness of their own places in the world: Daniel as comfortable with his own life as a manufacturer as the Duke and his son—his eldest son and therefore his heir—were with their privileged position. He swatted away that errant feeling. He might not belong quite as solidly to the life he had chosen, but it was his choice after all. Those other men...they had simply followed in their fathers’ footsteps. He tidied his campsite and threw dirt on the fire to extinguish the flame, then, with Myrtle at his heels, he headed for the stables.

He followed the brook upstream to the point where, at some time in the past, it had been dammed to create the lake where he and Lady Perfect had talked the night before last. He skirted around the shore and then continued to follow the brook upstream, knowing it would lead him close to the stable yard. He could not help but glance over at the rear view of Stourwell Court—its three-storeyed, stuccoed block, topped with a hipped roof, visible on the far side of the flower garden—but he caught no glimpse of Lady Perfect. Or of anyone else. The curtains were still drawn at several windows on the first floor and it was likely she was still in bed.

How long had she remained at the party after she left him the other night? Had she danced? Laughed? Indulged in fascinating conversations with the other guests—conversations that would put their unlikely encounter straight out of her head? She had made no effort to seek him out yesterday. Had she even noticed him, in the distance, when he had seen her? His lips tightened. Such thoughts would help no one. Least of all him. He must let them go. He cut across the grass to the stables and rounded the outer wall to the yard entrance. And stopped short.

Her smile dazzled him. Her silky chestnut hair gleamed in the sun and her eyes—a glorious green, the colour of fresh, damp moss—sparkled. She was dressed for riding, in a riding habit that exactly matched her eyes, and she held a matching hat, trimmed with two curling ostrich feathers, by her side.

Chapter Four

‘Good morning, Mr Gray.’

Lady Cecily’s gaze flicked to one side and Zach recognised Bickling—Lord Vernon’s groom, whom he had met in Worcester—standing nearby. She was warning him to maintain the formalities in front of others, kindling a warm glow in his chest. She had not forgotten their conversation.

‘Good morning, my lady. I did not expect to see anyone up and about so early.’

‘I could not sleep once daylight came. I felt the need for exercise after two idle days so I thought I might ride around the estate. I can find no one to accompany me, however, even though I was told Leo and Dominic have already broken their fast.’

‘They are fishing, with Daniel.’ Zach pointed in the direction of the river. ‘I am happy to accompany you, if Pritchard can supply a horse.’

The offer slipped out before he could censor his words. He sensed Bickling’s uneasy stir, but ignored him.

‘That would be splendid. Oh, Bickling, do wipe that disapproving expression from your face. Mr Gray is a guest here. There is no impropriety.’

‘Milady, I was about to suggest I ride with you. It’s not proper, you going out unchaperoned.’

She laughed and the sound trickled through Zach, awakening the strongest urge to hear her laugh again and again.

‘Oh, Bickling! That is absurd. It is no more improper for me to ride out with Mr Gray than it is to ride out with only you as my escort. We shall not go far. Now, Lady Vernon said last night she was happy for me to ride her mare Polly, so please go and speak to Pritchard and ask him to saddle her and also one of Mr Markham’s horses for Mr Gray.’

Bickling stalked off, grumbling beneath his breath.

‘The Good Lord deliver me from protective men.’ Cecily smiled up at Zach, tiny laughter lines creasing the outer corners of her lovely eyes. ‘It is bad enough with two brothers and two nephews who all consider it their duty to monitor my every move without the servants joining in as well.’

‘He is only doing as he thinks best,’ Zach said. ‘I need to speak to Pritchard before we go; I promised Lady Vernon I’d look at her favourite mare. She’s gone lame.’

‘Oh, the poor thing. Of course you must see to her before we go, Zach.’

Pleasure flared at her use of his name.

‘I shan’t be long. From Lady Vernon’s description, I suspect the problem is in her back, not her legs. She might benefit from massage but she’ll need the area warmed and relaxed first and that will take a while.’

He was soon back, having examined the mare and given instructions to Pritchard to rug her up using a lightweight blanket over a thatch of straw to help relax her. Cecily was crouching down, attempting to coax Myrtle to her. She looked up at Zach’s approach.

‘Look at this poor dog,’ she said. ‘Do you think she’s a stray? How can she survive on only three legs?’

Myrtle lurched over to him and leaned against his leg, nudging him with her head. He bent to fondle her ear as Cecily stood upright.

‘She went straight to you. Is she yours?’

‘I care for her.’

‘Of course. As you told me, you do not keep animals. They are free to leave if they wish. That is correct, isn’t it?’

‘It is. Apart from Titan, that is.’

‘Titan?’

‘He pulls my wagon. I cannot allow him to wander off, or I would never be able to move on.’

‘And is that important to you? The ability to move on?’ She tilted her face to the sky. ‘It sounds idyllic and uncomplicated in this weather, but it must be less pleasant in the rain and in the winter.’

He shrugged. ‘It is what I have chosen.’

Bad choice of words. He knew it as soon as they left his mouth. Her eyes sharpened as she studied him.