Tessa's Touch (6 page)

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CHAPTER 4

"How are you, my dear, and how was the
meet?" Sir George greeted Tessa upon her return. "Come, have a seat
and tell me all about it. I've already rung for tea, as dinner is still more
than an hour off. No doubt you are famished, as I always was after a good day's
run."

Though she was already stiffening alarmingly,
Tessa could not help smiling at her father's eagerness. "Will a brief
summary do for now? I very much need to wash and change before dinner, as you
can no doubt see— and smell."

He waved that concern away with one hand.
"I never mind the scent of horses. It brings back some of the happiest
times of my life. I assume from the hour that it was a good run today?"

"It was." She proceeded to give him
the high points of the day —the various jumps, who refused them and who
acquitted themselves particularly well, the terrain, the horses and the hounds.
She did not, of course, mention the criticism she'd received from some of the
sportsmen for her very presence.

"How I wish I'd been there," Sir
George sighed when she finished. "I'm sure you were magnificent, my dear,
just as your mother was the first time I saw her. Why, she could clear fences
some of the boldest men feared to attempt."

Before he could wander into further
reminiscences —all of which Tessa had heard before —she stood. "Now, Papa,
I pray you'll excuse me until dinner. You may not mind the smell of horses and
sweat mingling with your meal, but I'd prefer to have Cook's excellent dishes
unadulterated."

The dreaminess left his expression as he
focused on her. "And you're a bit sore, I see. Yes, a hot bath will do you
good. I will see you at table, Tessa —and thank you."

She did not need to ask what his thanks were
for. While listening to her account of the meet, he'd seemed more animated than
she'd seen him in months —perhaps years. She'd wondered why he had capitulated
so quickly when she and Uncle Mercer had proposed that she ride to the hunt,
but now she understood. Through her, he could vicariously live again the
glories of his youth and forget for a while the infirmity that prevented him
ever hunting again.

Going up the stairs, eager for that bath, she
could almost feel her bones creaking. Still, she would not trade the day she'd
had for anything. Foxhunting had been more exciting than she'd imagined —the
thrill of sailing over fence, ditch and hedge, the gallops across the fields
with other horses thundering alongside.

The frank admiration in Lord Anthony's eyes.

No! She mustn't dwell on that part, for that
way lay folly and heartbreak. His practised flirting made it clear he was
experienced at the game. He no doubt found her an amusing novelty, a diversion
for his brief time in the Shires, but he would forget her once he returned to
London Society —which he would do as soon as hunting season ended. They all
did.

Her bath was ready when she reached her
chamber. Smiling with anticipation, she allowed Sally to help her strip off her
mother's old habit, then her underthings, then sank into the blissfully hot
water with a sigh.

Of course, Papa had been pestering her for
years to spend a Season in London. But even if they could afford it, she would
not follow Lord Anthony to Town like some lovesick puppy. She wasn't sure she
even liked the man, for all he was devastatingly handsome. Anyway, the lack of
money made the whole matter moot.

Letting that brief, silly fantasy dissipate,
Tessa picked up a cloth and began scrubbing herself clean of the day's dirt.

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When Anthony and his friends arrived at the
George for the first Hunt Dinner of the season, he was scarcely surprised to
find that one of the main topics of conversation was Miss Tessa Seaton. Other
than the occasional mistress, she was the first woman in a decade to ride with
the Quorn, and that she had ridden so well was a matter of both wonder and
resentment among those present.

"You'd think these fellows had never seen
a woman on horseback before," Thor commented to the others as they moved
into the common room, which was thronged with men in the evening hunt uniform
of scarlet lined with white. "Do none of their sisters ride?"

"Even your sister can't hold a candle to
Miss Seaton on horseback, Thor, and you know it," Killer said to his much
larger friend. "Though I'll grant you Miss Turpin is a fine rider."

Anthony nodded along with the rest, remembering
when Thor's sister had petitioned to ride to the hunt last year —and been
refused by both brother and father, in no uncertain terms.

"I can't help wondering why Sir George
allowed his daughter to ride today," commented Rush, echoing Anthony's
thoughts —and doubtless those of half the room. "That uncle of hers I can
more easily understand, for he doubtless sees profit in it." He nodded to
the group by the fireplace, where Mercer Emery was talking with a dozen or so
gentlemen.

Partly for Killer's benefit, Anthony said,
"Yes, he knows he'll get twice as much for that hunter because she was
riding it today. I doubt he himself could have handled that beast at all, much
less shown him to advantage in the hunt."

Thor glanced down at Killer, who was frowning
suspiciously at Anthony. "I'll not bid on that horse myself tonight, even
if he is one of the few fast hunters who can bear me. I prefer to know a bit
more about a beast first —and did you note how Miss Seaton kept her distance
during the checks? Did anyone else so much as touch her hunter?"

"I did, if you must know," Killer
said testily. "Just after the meet, when Miss Seaton was turning him over
to Mr. Emery before she left. She didn't seem at all nervous about letting me
near him, for all you lot want to read something nefarious into her motives in
riding him."

"I spoke with Miss Seaton more than once
during the hunt myself," Anthony felt obliged to confess. "Her mount
showed spirit, but no ill-temper that I noticed, even when Faro was only an
arm's length away. Still, a horse may be different with every rider. I'd insist
on sitting him myself, were I interested in buying."

"I'm minded to ask about the hunter Emery
was riding today," Stormy said then, gesturing to the group by the
fireplace. "That mare had pretty lines, and might do well with a more
skilled rider. She may go cheaply after today's showing, too." He grinned
and the others chuckled, for Stormy was well known to have an eye for a
bargain.

He led the way across the room and the others
followed. As they neared the fireplace, they heard Emery saying, "—not
until after dinner, of course, when everyone is here and has a chance to bid.
I'll be available for questions until then, however."

Several of those near him drifted away,
allowing Anthony and his friends to approach. "You've not forgotten I'm
interested, have you, Mr. Emery?" Killer asked by way of greeting.

Mr. Emery, only an inch or two taller than the
little viscount, smiled. "Of course not, my lord. But, as I was telling
those others, you'll have to take your chance in the bidding after dinner,
along with the rest."

"I have a question or two about that
hunter, if you don't mind," Anthony said then.

Mr. Emery's smile was almost too pleasant.
"Of course, my lord. What do you wish to know?"

"Was he bred at the Seaton stables?"
he asked, already knowing the answer from his conversation with Miss Seaton
earlier. When Emery shook his head, Anthony continued, "How long has Sir
George owned him? And from where was he purchased?"

"Nimbus is one of our more recent
acquisitions," Mr. Emery replied, his smile now a bit stiff. "His
sire was Equity and his dam Thundress, of the Preston and Littlebottom
stables."

"
The
Equity, who won all those races a decade ago?" asked Killer,
visibly impressed.

Emery nodded. "The very one. Nimbus is five
years old, so should just be coming into his own as a superb hunter."

Though somewhat reassured, Anthony noticed that
the man hadn't exactly answered his second question. "Then you purchased
him from Littlebottom?" he asked. "Why so quick a turnaround? I'd
have thought you'd have wanted to breed him."

"He was already gelded," Emery began,
then looked off to the left. "Ah, it appears supper is being served. I'll
speak with you gentlemen later."

Anthony didn't think it was his imagination
that Emery seemed eager to escape his questioning. "It seems odd that a
horse with such bloodlines would be gelded so young. It could indicate a
temperament problem after all, wouldn't you say?" he asked his friends.

"Aye," Thor agreed. "I've known
more than one valuable stallion that was gelded because he was too vicious to
breed."

"Nimbus didn't show any sign of
viciousness today," Killer pointed out defensively. "If that's why he
was gelded, I'd say it worked."

"Perhaps so," Anthony said with a
shrug.

"Let's go in to dinner, shall we?"
Stormy urged. "We can continue this discussion while we eat."

As they were all hungry, this suggestion met
with no resistance.

"—still say it's dashed odd," Sir
Brian Olney was saying as Anthony took his seat next to the man at one of the
long tables in the dining room. "Why is it no one had ever heard of her
before today?"

"Porrington claims her mother was daughter
to old Seaton's horse trainer," said John Bingle from across the table.
"Word is, when his son, the current baronet, married her, the old man cast
them off— then died a year later. Seaton's kept the girl close on the estate
all her life."

"Can't think why," Sir Brian said,
shaking his head. "Nothing to hide there, from what I could see. Quite a
tempting morsel, in fact, even apart from her riding."

Anthony deliberately took a large helping of
roast beef before speaking. "Bear in mind that the lady's uncle is here in
this room. You wouldn't want to provoke any sort of— incident —by speaking too
freely about his niece."

The thought of Mercer Emery challenging a
Meltonian over Miss Seaton's honor was laughable, but Anthony's goal was to
stop such talk before it went too far. Miss Seaton wasn't his responsibility,
of course, but he couldn't help admiring her pluck. He had no desire to see her
suffer for it by having her name dragged through the Melton gutters by men like
Porrington.

"No, no, of course not," Sir Brian
said, glancing about with mild alarm. He was almost as unlikely a duellist as
Emery. "Just curious, you know, as we all are."

Rush followed Anthony's lead. "Pretty and
intriguing as Miss Seaton is, I confess myself more interested in the hunter
she rode today. Mr. Emery tells us his sire was Equity."

That successfully diverted the conversation to
horseflesh, and discussions of bloodlines and past hunts and races lasted for
the rest of the meal.

After dinner, as the wine was passed round
again, attention turned to business— specifically, the sale of horses ridden
that day. The tables were cleared away and the men moved about to question each
other on the various points of their mounts. Killer, of course, made a beeline
for Emery, with the rest of the Odd Sock Club behind him.

As before dinner, several gentlemen were asking
about Nimbus and receiving the same answers Anthony had earlier. The bidding
floor was established at five hundred pounds, but it was clear that the horse
would go for far more than that.

After listening for a few minutes, Stormy spoke
up. "What about the roan mare you rode today, Mr. Emery? Surely you'll
start her bidding a deal lower than that?"

Mr. Emery glanced sharply at him, then smiled.
"She's not up for sale tonight," he said, "though she'll be
available soon, perhaps even by the end of the week."

Stormy looked disappointed. "Not for any
price?"

"That depends," Emery said with a
raised brow. "What are you prepared to offer?"

"I didn't see her take any fences, so I
was thinking something on the order of two hundred pounds." A few nods
indicated that others thought this a fair offer.

"I'm sorry," Emery replied. "As
I said, I'm not authorized to sell her tonight, though of course I'll mention
your offer to Sir George. Yes, sir, you had a question about Nimbus?" he
said, turning to someone else.

Anthony pretended to listen, but his thoughts
had taken another path. "By the end of the week," Emery had said.
He'd be willing to lay odds that Tessa Seaton would be riding that roan mare in
an upcoming meet— after which Emery would be able to ask far more than two
hundred pounds.

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"Twelve hundred pounds?" Tessa echoed
in disbelief. Uncle Mercer had announced the sale of Nimbus the moment he
joined her and Sir George at breakfast the next morning. "But that's more
than four times—"

"Well done, Mercer," her father broke
in, just as her uncle sent her a warning look. "And well done, Tessa, for
I've no doubt your riding helped Mercer to get top dollar for the horse. That
should put paid to any questions about the quality of horseflesh at the Seaton
stables."