The Husband Campaign. Regina Scott

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      Chapter Three

      John was certain he’d seen the last of Lady Amelia. Her family had no reason to interact with his. He’d already refused her father’s attempt to purchase a horse, twice. Something about the Marquess of Wesworth struck him as cold, calculating. Any kindness in the man had obviously been passed to his daughter.

      Yet as John checked with his head groom and learned that Contessa was still missing, he could not seem to forget the woman he’d found sleeping in the straw. Perhaps that was why he hurried out of the stables at the sound of carriage wheels on the gravel.

      A lavish landau sat on the yard, brass appointments gleaming in the morning light. The four matched grays pulling it had the sleek, well-kept look of carriage horses. He would not have allowed one in his stable, and he was none too sure the same might not be said of the lady perched on the leather-upholstered seats of the open carriage. Lady Wesworth’s back was ramrod straight in her serpentine pelisse, the peacock feather in her bonnet waving in the breeze.

      Most of his grooms were still out searching for Contessa, but his veterinarian, Marcus Fletcher, must have heard the carriage as well, for he came out of the opposite stable block. A tall, gangly fellow with a riot of curly red hair and gold-rimmed spectacles, he was generally good with people for all he’d chosen to be a horse doctor instead of a physician. By the imperious frown on Lady Wesworth’s face, however, John thought even Fletcher’s good nature might not be sufficient.

      “Lord Hascot,” she said as John approached, Fletcher falling into step beside him. “What have you done with my daughter?”

      She made it sound as if John had stolen Amelia from her home. Luckily, he was spared an answer by the opening of the rear door of the house and the entrance of the lady herself, followed by the maid John had requested from Rotherford Grange.

      “Amelia!” Lady Wesworth cried as her daughter drew closer. “Are you hurt?”

      A reasonable question, but it was said with a note of accusation, as if only injury would allow her mother to condone her actions.

      “Good morning, Mother,” Lady Amelia answered pleasantly, as if she usually started the day in a strange house. “I’m very sorry if I concerned you. I’m fine.”

      Indeed, she looked quite fine. The maid had done an excellent job of smoothing her platinum hair, brushing out the plum habit. Her blue eyes sparkling, Lady Amelia was nothing short of perfection.

      Unfortunately, her mother did not appear to agree. Her chilly gaze swept over her daughter, as if seeking any fault.

      “Of course you concerned me,” she all but scolded. “You are my daughter, our only child.” She affixed her gaze on John and held out her hand in a clear order to help her from the carriage.

      He ignored her and turned to Lady Amelia. He had done his duty and delivered her safely back to her family. Surely that would silence the nagging voice in his head that he should do more.

      “I trust the rest of your visit to Dovecote Dale will be unmarred by further unpleasantries, your ladyship,” he said with a bow. “Safe travels.”

      Was it his imagination, or did her smile warm at his gesture? “Thank you, Lord Hascot. I hope you find your missing horse.”

      Despite everything that had happened, she remembered Contessa. That alone made her remarkable in John’s eyes. As his head groom brought out a brushed and watered Belle, her smile only grew.

      So did her mother’s frown. Indeed, she had turned an unbecoming СКАЧАТЬ