Engagement of Convenience. Georgie Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ side-saddle. It was still early and the rest of the house had yet to rise, making it unlikely Emily would catch her riding astride. Soothed by Manfred’s gentle gait, she settled into the seat, her mind wandering back to the woods and the handsome stranger.

      He called me attractive, she mulled, remembering the heady way his blue eyes raked her body, their heat warming her skin. Four years ago, standing against the wall during London balls, she’d seen gentlemen examine other young ladies with similar hot eyes, nudging each other knowingly. For all her London finery, not one gentleman had cast a single amorous glance in her direction. How strange to garner a lustful stare while dressed in her old riding habit.

      If only he weren’t one of the Wilkinses’ good-for-nothing friends. She sighed, wondering what it would be like to feel his lips tease her neck while he whispered forbidden things in her ear. A strange thrill coursed through her before she forced the wicked daydream from her head. He was a scoundrel and not worth a second thought.

      Digging her heel into Manfred’s flanks, she drove him hard across the open ground, guiding him towards a hedge separating the fields. Pulling back on his reins, she sat forwards as he leapt and they easily cleared the bushes before landing on the other side.

      ‘Well done, Manfred!’

      She slowed him to a walk and, coming to another path, looked longingly east. A smooth mound stood out against the flatter fields, the ruins on top silhouetted by the rising sun. At a full gallop, they could reach the old fortress in a few minutes and she might spend a quiet hour picking through the high grass searching for relics. Her heel itched to tap Manfred, but she resisted, reluctantly directing him back to Knollwood. Emily expected her at breakfast. Why, she couldn’t imagine. Neither Simon nor Annette, her stepcousins, had risen before noon since their arrival and when they were awake, they only complained about the country.

      What could Uncle Edward possibly hope to accomplish by sending them here? she wondered, wishing he’d hurry up and recall them to London.

      They trotted into the paddock, greeted by the fresh scent of hay and the sharper smell of horses.

      ‘I see you’ve had another fine ride, Miss Howard,’ John, the head groom, remarked, helping her down from the saddle. ‘I’ve always said the two of you were made for each another.’

      ‘That’s because I believed in him when no one else did. Didn’t I, Manfred?’ Julia rubbed the horse’s nose and he shook his head as if in agreement. ‘John, please speak to the gamekeeper. I saw a poacher in the forest this morning.’

      ‘A poacher?’ He held Manfred’s reins, disbelief deepening the lines of his forehead. ‘We’ve never had such trouble before.’

      ‘Well, I believe the man is a poacher, though it may have only been one of Mr Wilkins’s guests.’

      ‘Mr Wilkins has no guests, Miss Howard.’

      Then who could he be? Julia tapped her riding crop against her palm, then handed it to John. ‘No matter. Please ask the gamekeeper to take care of it.’

      ‘Yes, Miss Howard.’

      ‘Oh, and please don’t mention it to Mother or Emily. They’ll only worry and then Emily will lecture me if she discovers I went riding without you.’ Emily had been married to her brother Charles for less than a year, but she’d prove his equal when it came to chastising Julia about proper behaviour.

      ‘I won’t say a word.’ John laid a knowing finger against the side of his ruddy nose before leading Manfred inside.

      Thank goodness for his loyalty, she thought, fastening up the long hem of her riding habit. Without him, she and Manfred might never be allowed to enjoy their solitary rides.

      Walking up the path from the stables, she passed through a small grove of trees and into the large, open lawn. Crossing the wide space, she kicked the head off a dandelion, sprinkling her skirt with bits of grass and dew.

      I must speak to Bill about bringing the sheep here to trim the grass, she reminded herself before passing through a gate in the low stone wall surrounding the garden on the other side.

      Wandering down the gravel path through the semi-formal plant beds, she saw the house rise up in front of her, its many windows reflecting the morning sun. She removed her right glove and grazed the top of a large rosemary bush with her fingers before snapping off a sprig and inhaling the tangy scent. All the troubles she’d forgotten during her ride came rushing back, especially Charles’s letter.

      ‘His estate.’ Julia threw the rosemary sprig on the ground, crushing it beneath her half-boot. ‘What does he know of running Knollwood?’

      She’d burned the hateful parchment after reading it, watching with delight as the neat script crumpled and charred in the flames. However, all the burned letters couldn’t stop her brother from claiming his inheritance.

      Pausing at the small pond in the centre of the garden, she stared into the dark water. Goldfish flitted beneath the glass surface, failing to disturb the reflection of the thick clouds passing overhead.

      Why should he have Knollwood? Tears of frustration stung her eyes. He’s never taken an interest in it the way I have.

      Nor did he appreciate all her hard work to keep it prosperous. Only Father and Paul had ever recognised it, but with Paul serving with Admiral Nelson’s fleet and Father—

      No, she commanded herself, refusing to cry. Tears would not help her deal with Charles.

      Heading up the garden path, she passed her mother’s cherished rose garden, then hurried up the stairs of the column-lined stone portico leading to the back sitting room.

      ‘Good morning, Miss Howard,’ Davies, the butler, greeted, pulling open the large French door.

      ‘Good morning.’ She handed him her gloves and he held out a small paper-covered parcel.

      ‘This arrived from Mr Charles Howard.’

      ‘My book.’ She tore off the wrapper to reveal a leather-bound copy of The Monk. ‘I can’t believe Charles sent it. He’s always so concerned about not disturbing my delicate female mind. It’s fortunate he doesn’t know the half of what Paul tells me.’

      ‘Yes, very fortunate indeed,’ Davies solemnly concurred. He’d been Paul’s valet when Paul still lived at Knollwood, making him well acquainted with her brother’s nature and most of his escapades.

      ‘Has Uncle George returned from London yet?’

      ‘Captain Russell arrived a short while ago to collect Percy and speak with Mrs Emily Howard. He’s returned to Creedon Abbey to see to the repairs.’

      ‘Uncle George was here and didn’t wait for me?’

      ‘No, miss, but it appears we are to expect another gentleman.’

      ‘Who?’

      ‘Mrs Howard did not say, but she instructed me to open Paul’s room for him.’

      Julia chafed at the news. ‘When is he arriving?’

      ‘This afternoon.’

      ‘Thank you, Davies. Please tell СКАЧАТЬ