“It was a late night, and he usually waits for her to rise.” Georgie thought that was sweet, but Turley was sniggering.
Their horses were being saddled when they reached the stables, and the groom was waiting.
When Lilly nickered Georgie took a carrot out of a bucket and gave it to the mare. “Good morning.”
She and Turley led their horses out, but before Lilly could kneel, Turley’s hands clasped Georgie’s waist, sending tremors of pleasure through her body. Fortunately, she was not facing him, for she was certain he’d be able to see how his touch affected her. When she finally landed on her saddle, she took a breath and managed what she hoped was a serene expression.
“Ye two ready?” the older man asked.
In one graceful movement, Turley was on Lochinvar. “We are.” He glanced at her. “The racing spot?”
“Of course.” She bit off a remark about beating him, and instead patted Lilly’s neck and whispered, “Do your best today.”
After trotting out of the yard, they gave their horses their heads for several minutes, before slowing them to a walk. It would not do any good to wear them out on the way. The day was bright and the grass was frosted in some areas.
When they arrived at the lane, Johnson moved off to the side. “Let me know when ye want to start.”
She glanced at Turley. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“Anytime,” she called to the groom.
“Right then. On three. One. Two. Three.”
Lilly started a little ahead of Lochinvar and managed to stay ahead of him until just before they reached the finish when the other horse caught up with her. Still, a tie was not what Georgie wanted. They raced thrice more, and at the end they had tied twice, and each of them had won once.
They turned to walk the horses back when Lord Lytton came out of the woods. “Good morning.”
Georgie thought Turley scowled, but when he greeted the other man there was no sign of it in his face. “Good day to you.”
“Good morning,” she said. “What brings you here?”
* * *
It was a good thing Marc expected that he’d be asked that question and had formulated an answer. “I must have turned the wrong way. I was out riding and meant to go back to Bottomley’s house.”
Turley stared steadily at Marc letting him know that he was intruding. “It’s an easy mistake to make. You just need to turn around and go the other way. Did you not remark the direction when your coach made the same mistake?”
“Er. It appears not. However, I frequently work when I’m traveling and don’t pay attention to the road.” He gave them an apologetic look. “I’ll know the next time.” He glanced around him, hoping Miss Featherton would ask him to join them. “It’s a good straight path here. Is this where you usually ride?”
“We race,” the lady said. “But it is time for us to return.” She and Turley exchanged glances and Marc knew that he was decidedly de trop. Turley and Miss Featherton had the look of a settled couple, and Marc would not be surprised to hear of a betrothal in the near future. “Have a pleasant day, my lord.” She gave him a polite smile. “If you attend the garden party, we shall see you there.”
“Yes, of course.”
Turley waved as he turned his horse. “You shouldn’t have any problems finding the way back.”
“No. I don’t suppose I will.” This was disappointing, but not a complete waste of time. He knew without a doubt that Miss Featherton had no interest in anyone but Turley. He retraced his way back to Bottomley’s. Marc had spent the last two Seasons looking for a wife, and had yet to find one. The only other lady in which he could be interested and who met his aunt’s qualifications was Lady Aurelia. But was she interested in him? He supposed it was time to start looking at her in a new way.
He rode slowly, enjoying the day and not wanting to spend more time than necessary with Bottomley, who was already missing Town and making noises about returning. Thus far, Marc had ignored the man’s hints, and would continue to do so. Once he was in Town and then back at his estate, he’d have no further chances to meet eligible ladies.
When he finally entered the stable yard, his coachman, groom, and the other man he’d hired in Town as a guard were milling around his coach. “Is there anything wrong?”
“No, my lord,” Stratton, his coachman said. “I’m just doin’ some work on it. Don’t do us any good if a pin or somethin’ comes out when we’re travelin’.”
“How’d your meeting with the lady go?” his groom asked, with a hopeful look on his face.
That was one thing about old retainers, they wanted to know everything and didn’t hesitate to inquire. Then again, his whole household knew about his aunt’s requirements, and his inability to find a suitable lady. She had not used any discretion at all when informing him about them. Now much of his staff was as concerned about him marrying as he was. “Not as well as I hoped it would. It appears as if I shall have to find another lady.”
His groom’s and coachman’s faces had fallen at the news. “I’m sure someone will come along.” He didn’t dare raise their hopes about Lady Aurelia until he was sure of her. In a misguided attempt to calm his servants, he’d made that mistake before. Marc shouldn’t have mentioned Miss Featherton at all. “I shall be attending a garden party this afternoon at about one. If you could help ensure that Lord Bottomley’s carriage is ready, I would appreciate it.”
“Yes, my lord.” Marc’s coachman’s tone was glum.
Marc dismounted and handed his horse to the groom. “Don’t worry. It will all come right.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Confound his aunt. If only she’d kept her demands between them.
* * *
Despite attempting to like Lytton more, or at least not be outwardly unpleasant to him, Gavin had not appreciated his time with Georgie being interrupted. Not only that, but he didn’t believe for a moment that Lytton had come upon them by accident. It was almost exactly the same time as when his coach really had gone the wrong way that the man appeared today.
Fortunately, Georgie didn’t seem to be interested in him at all. After last evening, Gavin finally felt as if they were getting closer. That he was making some progress. He supposed he could have been more open with her about his family before now. He should have also told her that he could not allow himself to love his wife, but if he could, he would . . . what? Love her? He wasn’t in love. He had vowed not to be in love. Yes, he enjoyed spending time with her. It was actually more than that. He liked listening to her thoughts and hearing her laugh. He wanted to be with her all the time and share his thoughts with her. His desire to bed her was a constant physical ache. Every time he even thought of her breasts and what they’d look like he got an erection. For that matter, almost any part of her gave him the same reaction from her dark chestnut hair to her dainty feet. Not to mention the surge of irritation he experienced when he thought another gentleman might be interested in her. Perhaps it was more than mere irritation, but whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
“Do many people become lost going to Lord Bottomley’s estate?” Georgie asked.