Laurel Ames - Playing To Win

“Just how many books have you got?” he demanded suspiciously.

“I should say there could not be more than seven or eight...hundred.” Sera peeked at him to see what effect this news would have on Tony.

He stood openmouthed for a moment.

“I did warn you I am bookish.”

“I know, but really! I thought that was just an expression.” Suddenly he smiled, and he had to bite his lip not to laugh at Sera’s hopeful look. “I don’t suppose there is anything else I should know about you. You haven’t got an art collection for me to house, or some more livestock?”

“No, I think— Well, there is McDuff.”

“Don’t tell me—an aged family retainer.”

“Some such thing. You may not like him, but Lady Jane and he do not get along, so I thought perhaps...”

“When is he coming?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Good. He can help us pack.”

“I don’t think he will be much use at that, but I shall contrive to keep him out of the way.”

“No doubt.”

* * *

Sera and Marie were in her dressing room, repacking her gayer clothes. It was tiring, having just packed and unpacked, to be going through it again. “I should have told you not to bother unpacking these. I can only wear grays and mauves for a time, anyway,” Sera said, letting her frayed temper show.

“They get too crushed if they are not hung,” said Marie as she carefully laid a pink silk between layers of silver paper.

“Nevertheless, these two trunks will go directly to the attic in Marsham Street. I don’t need them.”

Marie was protesting this decision in excited French when there was a growl, a muffled oath and angry yapping from the bedroom. Sera stepped back in to see Tony brush McDuff off the settee with enough force to make the little dog yelp when he landed.

“McDuff!” The animal limped to her, pathetically holding up an injured paw.

“Why didn’t you tell me McDuff is a lapdog?” Tony was red in the face and wrapping his handkerchief around his hand.

“I didn’t really know how you would take it,” Sera said, picking up her old pet.

“Your bedroom is no place for him. If you want to keep him, send him to the kitchen.”

A flush rose to Sera’s cheeks. “I don’t see what difference it makes. You never come in here anyway!”

Marie went back into the dressing room, and Sera cursed herself for saying something so stupid.

Tony grew quite white in the face, and she really did fear him for a moment, but he only slammed the door on his way out.

It was the worst thing she could possibly have said, and she regretted it as soon as her temper cooled. She should have known McDuff well enough to know he was only faking an injury. Like Armand, who had given her the dog, McDuff was a consummate actor.

Sera had never previously been aware of having a temper, but then, no one had ever provoked her into losing it before. At moments like this, she regretted ever marrying Tony, but then he did something unexpectedly nice for her. It was never a verbal apology, but she could not resist his efforts at peacemaking. When he wasn’t angry, he looked so much like he expected her to be still shrewish, it was laughable. She wondered where they were drifting—possibly into one of those cool and polite relationships that were more like business deals than marriages. Perhaps that was all Tony had ever wanted.

* * *

As a way of making peace, Tony offered to take Sera for a ride once they were settled in Marsham Street. The house seemed larger to Sera than the town house, but that was because it could get air and light from all four sides. Even better, it was on a corner, so they had easy access to the stables. There was even a small garden. Sera and Lady Amanda talked excitedly about how to refurbish the worn furniture as they selected their rooms. Tony interrupted them ruthlessly, commanding Sera to put on her riding habit even before the garment was unpacked. She could only look wistfully at her crates of books in the empty downstairs room as she was whisked down the hall to the back door.

“What have we for a lady, Chadwick?”

“I fancy this bay mare, myself. She’s very lively, and Jeffers says she can jump.”

“Saddle her up,” Tony commanded.

“What’s her name?” Sera asked, taking off her gloves to stroke the velvety muzzle.

“Tansy,” Jeffers supplied, after he directed the stable boy to fetch Sera’s sidesaddle. The mare gave a playful buck and seemed a little uncertain of her direction, but Sera pulled her in behind Tony’s gray, and she soon quieted.

“That horse is supposed to be broken.”

“Probably not used to being ridden sidesaddle,” Sera commented. “She’s settling down to it already.”

Tony watched Sera jealously through Saint James’s Park, not knowing how well she might ride, considering the slugs she had owned. Sera did not make any grievous errors, except for talking to the mare the entire way, rather than to him. But he recalled she had said she did this and, however annoying it might be, it did seem to keep the young horse distracted enough not to try any dangerous tricks. Even a loose dog did not make her rear, since Sera saw it and calmed Tansy immediately.

It was a wearing ride for Tony, wondering when his wife would be dumped. He had never had charge of a lady on horseback before, and it made him nervous.

Sera, on the other hand, was having a marvelous time, outguessing her new friend, saving the young horse from any serious blunders by anticipating what she would try next. She had not enjoyed herself so much since she had helped Chadwick train Ivy’s colt.

“Tired?” Tony asked as he helped her down at home.

“Not at all. Can we ride every day?”

“If you like, and you can go with Chadwick or Jeffers when I am not about. I don’t know about that mare, though.”

“She is sweet. A little playful, perhaps, but so eager to please, if only she can figure out what I want from her.”

It struck Tony that Sera might be describing herself. He realized that she did everything she could think of to please him. She put up with his surly silences, and sometimes even managed to tease him out of them. He should never have married her. He could not be a real husband to her so long as her money kept them apart.

* * *

It rained for most of a week, which gave them time to settle in to the house off Horseferry Road. The next time Tony and Sera had a chance to ride together, Tony had a gelding brought out for Sera to mount. She supposed the horse was all right, but he did not look as well boned as old Casius, in her estimation.

“Can’t I ride Tansy, instead?”

“What?”

“Your little bay mare.”

“I sold that one, with some of my other stock.”

“Sold her? But why? I liked her so much.”

“She was not well trained, and sooner or later would have given you a crashing fall.”

“Your selling her—it wasn’t an accident,” Sera said accusingly. “You sold her on purpose. Why?”

Tony had already told her why. He did not want to tell Sera to her face that he did not trust her horsemanship.

“You don’t have to answer me,” Sera said bitterly, turning away. “You sold her because I liked her.”

“Don’t be stupid. Just get on the horse.”

“I don’t care to ride today—or ever—with you.” Sera walked deliberately back to the house, wondering if she had said too much. She did want to ride with Tony, very much, but he made it so plain this bored him, it was probably best she put a stop to it now. Everything she tried to do to get close to him seemed to put more barriers between them. She was so angry with him at that moment that if there had been an easy way to divorce him, she would have done it. Whether she still loved him or not was dangerous to think about.