“There’s an excellent tea shop where we can stop for pie,” Lady Foxborough said. “It’s the perfect place for us to warm up with refreshments.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Athena said, deliberately softening her voice to a weaker tone than usual, “but I am hoping I can be excused.”
“Excused?” Her mother gave her a baffled look. “You love fresh air and long walks, not to mention the chance to chase your niece and nephew along a country road.”
“True.” Indeed, she would miss that part a great deal. “Unfortunately, I woke with a terrible headache. I think I would be better off staying here and getting some rest.”
“Oh.” Her mother glanced about as if unsure of what else to say, except, “Of course.”
One hour later, Athena watched from her bedchamber window as her family set off on their walk. Bundled up with hats, scarves, and mittens, Lilly and Lucas skipped ahead until they reached the large stones at the edge of the driveway. Athena smiled when they scampered up onto them, and Charles hurried over to give them a hand for support.
Stepping back, she went to her wardrobe and sought out her breeches. She always wore them under her skirts when she went outside in the winter. They added an extra layer of warmth she’d never been able to garner from stockings alone. And since she favored riding astride over using a sidesaddle, they also helped avoid chafing.
Donning a heavy wool cloak and gloves, Athena listened to Mary while she told her how to reach Lord Darlington’s estate, then went to the stables and picked out a horse. Ten minutes later, she was galloping across the fields, determined to accomplish her task before anyone realized she’d even been gone.
ROBERT CARLISLE, ONCE the Earl of Langdon, now the Marquess of Darlington, stared at the numbers he’d tallied and smiled. Finally. After six long years of hard work, the investments he’d made were starting to turn a profit. Closing the ledger, he sank back in his armchair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Lord, he was tired, but it seemed his dedication had paid off.
Rising, he went to pour himself a brandy. It wasn’t even noon yet, but damn if a celebration of sorts wasn’t in order. The liquid trickled into his tumbler with a rippling effect that tempted him as much as the brandy’s golden color. Warmth seeped into his veins as he drank, instilling a calm he’d not known in ages.
His life, some might say, had been blessed with privilege. Most would raise their eyebrows at him if he spoke a single complaint. After all, there were men who were far worse off. This was indisputable. And yet, he did not think himself blessed with good fortune. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Robert took another blissful sip of his drink.
First, his fiancée, Charlotte Walker, had run off with his cousin. A few years later, his good friend Charles Townsbridge – nay, Charles’s sister, Athena – had broken up his wedding at the church in front of all creation, claiming his bride loved Charles instead. And then, when Robert’s life was finally starting to gain a bit of equilibrium again, his father had died, leaving behind a crushing amount of debt. His own financial situation at the time had not been the best, so the last thing he’d needed was more worry.
At least his financial troubles were starting to ease a little. As for the rest...
According to what he’d learned, Charlotte was desperately unhappy with a husband who liked to drown himself in a bottle of brandy each evening. Robert couldn’t say he was sorry to hear it. She’d treated him abominably.
Charles Townsbridge, on the other hand, was happily married. And while Robert didn’t exactly harbor ill will toward him or his wife, Bethany, a part of him envied the perfect life they’d made for themselves. It really wasn’t fair that he, who’d been wronged, had suffered the most.
Crossing to the window, he glanced out at the dreary landscape, at the leafless branches reaching toward the sky as if begging for spring to dress them. Bethany should have been his. He’d met her first, proposed, and gained her hand. Hell, he’d stood with her before the priest on the very cusp of making her his when Athena, that blasted hoyden of a child, had ruined it all. She might have meant well, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d made a mockery of him. The articles and caricatures he’d seen in the papers for several weeks after confirmed it. No experience had ever been more emasculating. Fresh on the heels of Charlotte’s betrayal, the situation had been insufferable to say the least.
Robert blew out his breath and forced an inner calm upon himself. This was all in the past. Six years lay between the man he’d been then and the one he was now. He’d come to terms with what had happened, had finally moved on.
Perhaps, he considered while watching a cluster of birds scatter across the greying sky, it was time to start thinking of marriage once more. A nerve ticked in his jaw at the thought. Very well. Perhaps he’d wait a while yet.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter!” Robert turned to face his butler with the impatience of a man who wished to be left alone. “Yes?”
“You have a visitor, my lord,” Dartwood said in an even tone. He raised his chin ever so slightly, then added, “She says her name is Miss Athena Townsbridge.”
Robert’s grip tightened on his glass. Every muscle in his shoulders and back knotted in defiance. His jaw clenched. What the hell was she doing here?
“Offer her some refreshments. Then send her on her way.” He turned his back on Dartwood. “Let me know when she’s gone.”
“Very well, my lord.” The door closed with a snick.
Robert closed his eyes and forced himself to exhale a slow breath. Between the burden of holding onto his properties, taking care of his tenants, and figuring out how to pay the taxes and his servants’ wages, the very last thing he needed was for that Townsbridge brat to show up and complicate things even further. Good God! He inhaled slowly – deep calming breaths to undo the tension and infuse some calm – and exhaled.
Athena had been what, three years of age the first time he’d met her? He’d been thirteen. It had been summer and Charles had invited him home to visit his family for the holidays. Robert had joined Charles on several similar occasions in the years that followed. He remembered Athena whispering secrets in her older sister, Sarah’s, ear. She’d balanced along the top of the property fence when she was eleven. One day, she’d arrived for supper covered in mud because of a tumble she’d taken. At twelve she’d harpooned a fish using a spear she’d whittled. Her triumphant smile from that long ago day was still branded in his mind.
He shook his head. Athena Townsbridge was a tempestuous handful, as evidenced by her lack of regard for propriety. Bethany and Charles are in love with each other, but they are prepared to sacrifice their happiness for you. Her words had been loud and clear, unwaveringly bold. He couldn’t remember much from the moments that followed, except for her face, her mouth set in a firm line, eyes blazing with fierce determination.
And then he’d punched Charles, because he sure as hell couldn’t punch Athena.
Another knock sounded at the door.
“Yes?”
“My apologies, my lord,” Dartwood said, “but the lady refuses to leave without having met with you first.”