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Authors: Samanthya Wyatt

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BOOK: The Only One
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Which was an understatement. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the young
lad
wearing a gown—a very form fitting one causing him to take a second look—was definitely not it.

She must have noticed the glint in his stare, for her eyes widened and her brow furrowed in deliberation. Then she straightened her spine which made her chest puff out.

Giles appreciated a woman that was well endowed as much as any man. Glancing at those uplifted breasts, he had difficulty remembering this young woman, who obviously didn’t know how to flirt, was still in an early stage of her life.

“Thank you.”

Good God. Was she about to curtsy?

She dipped and stumbled. He grabbed the hand on his arm and steadied her.

A flush flamed her face.

He tilted his head slightly, leaning close for her ears alone. “It takes more than a dress to be a lady.”

Her lips stretched tight as if she would hurl an oath.

“Kit. You will escort Alexandria to the dining room. James, Sarah.” Cornelia, as befitting as any matron of the
ton
, issued instructions as though she were in a grand English home. Giles wondered how long he would have to endure Cornelia’s insistence on being addressed properly as a duke’s entitlement.

He offered his arm. “Mrs. Hargrave. If you will allow me.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” The matron beamed as if he’d given her the moon. Two steps behind him, he heard Alex’s brothers mumbling.

“Face the music, brothers,” Kit said.

“What?”

“Thanks to the two of you, we’re being served humble pie.”

Chapter 6

Carmichael took the seat at the head of the elegantly set table while his wife sat at the other end. Kit, Sam, and Alex proceeded around to the opposite side.

“Please, Your Grace. You will sit here.” Cornelia gestured with a nod.

Taking her hand from where it rested on his sleeve, Giles helped her to her seat, then took the chair next to her, directly across from Alex.

Giles noticed James and Sarah Carmichael displayed a mutual respect for one another, a shared affection. In contrast and to the outside observer, Giles’ parents were excessively handsome people gifted in commerce and conversation. Yet they never indulged in demonstrations of sentiment or warmth. Behind closed doors, the two shared no more than a dwelling. It was a wonder he had been born. But then, he supposed it had not always been that way. And a dukedom must have an heir.

“Our cook has excelled this evening in honor of your presence.” Sarah beamed with pride. “She has prepared roast pigeon, a kettle of fish, mince pies, sweet potato pudding, and syllabub with cocoa beans in a frothy dessert.”

“Sounds delicious. I shall be sure to thank her personally.” Giles bestowed a smile.

Through the first and second courses, Cornelia tried to keep generating interest on topics of England and his nobility. He had no desire to embellish on his private life, and steered her in other directions, all the while keeping up with the conversation and allowing his mind to drift to Alex. He darted short glances to better note her sparkling brown eyes, her high cheekbones, her sun-glistened blonde hair.

When Alex smiled favorably at him, Giles let his gaze linger on her full lips. With his strength of mind in diplomatic affairs and daring escapades, it astounded him that this bit of fluff disturbed him.

He held her gaze for long moments before Ben’s voice shook him free.

“Found something interesting today, Papa.”

“I’d say,” Sam added with a mouth full of food.

With a slight shake of her head, Sarah gave a look of reproach to her son.

“Pardon, Mama.”

“Sam and I rode out on the north meadow.” Ben leaned back in his chair, sending glances between Alex and his father.

“What was so interesting out there?” James stabbed a piece of meat with his fork.

“Well, we found something. Just wandering around on our land.”

“Yeah, Pap. Just grazing in the grass.” Sam attempted innocence, but his grin suggested tomfoolery. Same with Ben. The two were leading up to mischief. Being a curious sort, Giles’ ears perked up with interest.

“An animal?” James asked.

“Yep. And this particular animal belonged to someone,” Ben answered.

“Yeah,” Sam chortled.

“Well, what was it?” James raised a brow as though he tired of the game.

“A stallion.”

“Black.”

“Alone.”

“With no rider.”

Back and forth, taking turns, one brother started a sentence and the other one finished it. Giles swallowed a chuckle.

“Had a saddle, though.”

Of the three, Ben gave the impression of being the most outspoken. By his smug countenance and flamboyant gestures, he took great delight in teasing his sister. Alex shot him a spiteful look. Any moment Giles expected her to explode. With his long legs in close proximity, he only hoped he did not receive a kick meant for her brother.

“Can’t imagine why anyone would let a shiny black wander off like that.”

All eyes turned to Alex.

“What’s this?” James asked, his brow furrowed. “Surely this is not the same horse I purchased for Alex from Hudson’s.”

“Papa, I can explain,” Alex sputtered.

“We figure the black threw her,” Sam said with glee.

“He did not!” Alex shrieked.

Sarah gasped. “Alex, are you all right?”

“Mama, I did not—”

“He’s a big one, Pap. I think you should give him to me.” Kit joined into the fray.

“Now just a minute. That’s
my
horse.”

“Which evidently you can’t handle.”

Alex glared at her brother. Giles held back a chuckle.

“Young lady, I’m waiting for an explanation.” James’ gruff voice rang with chastisement.

“It’s his fault.” Alex jumped up and pointed a finger directly at Giles.

Silence filled the room.

Cornelia and Sarah looked like they were about to have apoplexy. Kit grinned in amusement. Sam’s mouth hung open and Ben looked incredulous.

“Alex,” James said in a low voice with a hint of embarrassment. “Sit down.”

Glances swung from Alex to Giles. After a gasp or two, silence hung heavy in the room. He might as well offer some sort of clarification. “I believe I should intervene.” He folded his napkin and casually placed it beside his plate.

“Giles, please forgive my daughter.”

“Papa . . .”

A glare from her father cut off anything else Alex wanted to say. She dropped her head and slowly slid back onto her chair.

“Allow me to enlighten you.” He studied each face at the table before speaking. “I was having a leisurely ride on my new steed. Following your directions,” he nodded to James, “at the appropriate landmark, I rode into a meadow bordered by a group of oaks. A black stallion bolted from the tree line. Immediately, I recognized the black you purchased from the auction. At first I felt admiration. I was pleased to see such a fine animal race across the open field. But, then, it dawned on me the horse was out of control, and the lad might be in trouble.”

He glanced at Alex. She fumed, tight-lipped and stiff-jawed. Angry eyes glared back at him.

“I had no idea your daughter was the rider on that horse. Fearing for the lad’s safety, I set off after him—uh, her.”

A choked laugh caught his attention. Kit’s shoulders shook.

“Gor, Alex,” Sam cried.

“Did you catch her?” Ben turned his sharp gaze on his sister.

“Of course.” Giles couldn’t keep his lips from turning up into a grin. “I rescued her.”

“You did
not
rescue me!”

Receiving a fulminating glower from her father, her eyes lowered to her hands, fisting in her lap.

“What happened?” Sam asked with excitement.

“I only recently purchased Gent. The steed’s owner declared the horse powerful. Quite worth the purchase price. Not only did I catch up with Alex, I snatched her right out of the black’s saddle.”

All three brothers burst out in loud guffaws, and so did their father. However, Cornelia fanned herself, and Sarah hid a smile behind her fingers.

“That explains the missing rider.” Ben leaned an arm on the back of his chair. “But not why the horse was alone when we found him.”

“My guess, the black kept running.” Kit turned his amused grin on Alex.

“You are correct. Your sister was afraid the stallion would run away.” Giles turned to James. “I apologize earnestly for my rash actions, as I apologized to your daughter as soon as I found out the lad was a girl.”

“Papa, there is nothing to be concerned about. I did not—” Alex began, only to be cut off by her father.

“Nothing to be concerned about? Not only did you lose your new horse, but a gentleman had to come to your rescue. And he thought you a boy.”

“Not the first time,” Sam piped in.

“Dear God. Sarah, do you have smelling salts?”

“Aunt Cornelia, are you going to faint?” Kit leaned forward in his chair.

“Cornelia is fine, dear.” Sarah raised her crystal wine glass and gazed at him over the rim.

“It’s easy to mistake Alex for a boy,” Ben said. “Why, my own eyes nearly bugged out of my head when she walked in here in that dress.”

This time the urchin did kick, and sure enough Giles felt the ramifications. He flinched and swallowed a grunt of pain.

“Alex. One cannot behave foolishly in front of others and not expect it to spread like wildfire,” James scolded. “From this day forward, there will be a new set of rules put in place. Your mother and I, and Cornelia, will discuss the matter after dinner.”

She practically wilted under the table.

“Perhaps what your father is trying to say, is that you are of an age now. A young lady is expected to behave a certain way.” Cornelia tried to retain the ambience at the dinner table. Maybe save some embarrassment for Alex in the process.

“I find her spirited behavior quite amusing.” Giles watched Alex’s face as he spoke. Sure enough, signs of a temper flared. He discovered he liked baiting her as much as her brothers. He ground his lips together to capture the chuckle bursting inside.

“Spirited?” Ben grumbled. “She’s a big pain in my—”

“Ben!” Sarah cautioned. “I remember a time when Alexandria worshiped the ground you walked on. She tagged along behind you like a shadow. You had no problem with her then.”

Ben cleared his throat. “She was a baby.”

“Your Grace, I apologize for my children’s outspokenness.”

“Please, Mrs. Carmichael. I’d rather you not address me so formally. And I am not offended by the dinner conversation.” He offered a heartfelt smile. “I find their quibble enjoyable, in fact. The dinners I normally attend have traces of pompousness about them. Thinking to put on airs, so to speak. I much prefer normalcy. A more relaxed gathering where one might breathe easy and not be subject to decorum.”

“How kind of you to say so, Your Grace,” Cornelia said from beside him.

“Please, Lady Hargrave. You call your brother James. Would it be so difficult for you to call me Giles?”

She gasped aloud. “I could not.”

“Surely speaking my name is not as horrible as all that? How about, Nethersall?”

“Well, um, if you insist.”

“I do.” He softened his command with a smile.

The dear lady blushed. Giles relaxed his tense shoulders. This family welcomed him into their home, and he fit. How refreshing, their banter and their mirth. A long-awaited sense of home and contentment, of ease, spread through his body.

He lifted his wine goblet and glanced across the table—straight into a pair of livid brown eyes.

Chapter 7

Giles normally rose each morning at the crack of dawn. This morning had been no different. He’d been closeted in James’ office for the last hour, getting an idea of the man’s sizable holdings.

Such a lordly plantation. Carmichael had acreage down to the river's level. His cane-field contained about five hundred acres, which just last year produced a crop of three hundred eighty-four tons of sugar. He housed a variety of stock. A numerous herd of cattle delivered fresh butter, cheese, and cream for all who lived on the land with enough left over to send to market. And then there were the thoroughbreds.

Good God, the plantation was a world of its own, filled with culture and all the refinements.

James had a special love of horses, one thousand acres set aside just for the creatures to roam. And he’d promised a special surprise.

Giles inhaled the rich steam rising from his coffee cup. Tea may be the drink of his ancestors, but he preferred the black brew. He’d developed the taste during his wild and free days, and lived on the stuff during the course of many missions.

“Good morning.”

Giles lowered the paper he’d been reading and glanced at the girl who’d taken up entirely too much time in his head. As the night before, Alex had donned a gown. A twinge of regret darted through his thoughts, seeing she wore a skirt instead of the curve-revealing breeches.

“Good morning.” Applying his gentlemanly manners, he stood, waiting for Alex to settle in the chair opposite him.

A sparkle in her eye, she gave him a huge smile while she smoothed her skirts.

As he lowered his frame back to the chair, he wondered what the minx was up to. The cook came in before he could dwell on the idea.

“Good morning, Missy.”

At his raised eyebrow, Alex quickly explained. “She’s always called me Missy.” She turned to the cook. “Good morning, Phibe.”

“Here you go.” Phibe placed a plate of eggs and ham in front of Alex.

“Thank you, Phibe. Ummm. Looks delicious.” Alex smiled at the older woman.

“More coffee, Mister Giles? The cream is fresh and rich.”

“Yes, please.” He held up his cup with a smile and a nod. She poured black brew from a white, china pot.

“I’ll have coffee too, Phibe.”

The woman gave the girl a sharp look, and then ignored Alex as though she had not spoken.

Sitting back, he observed the exchange between the two women.

“Do you have everything you need, Mister Giles?”

“This is perfect, Phibe. Thank you.” Giles shared a wink.

A beaming Phibe strolled back to the kitchen.

He took in the delicate features of the female across the table from him, a blush in her cheeks. It had been a while since he’d paid much attention to a woman. How easy it would be to get lost in her natural beauty. He narrowed his gaze, drinking in every detail, including her pert, rounded nose and full lips. With a silent groan, he shook away the uninvited thoughts and concentrated on his paper.

“You seem to be occupied with the Louisiana Gazette.”

“By that, if you mean am I reading current events, the answer is yes.”

“Papa says there is very little space devoted to current events since news happenings are common knowledge long before the sheets are off the press. But he still takes the paper. Mama likes to look at the clippings, and there is poetry printed as well.”

Beautiful
and
keen? An unusual combination in a lady, let alone one so young.

She lifted her fork and hesitated. “Have you already eaten?”

“I have been with your father in his study.”

“Papa? Good, he’s gone.”

Giles lowered the paper enough to peer over the top. “Beg pardon?”

“You’re here alone, so Papa must be gone.”

“No. I’m waiting while he deals with some private business. Then he’s showing me the plantation.”

“Oh.” Her smile disappeared and her shoulders dropped.

He raised the paper in hopes the man would be done soon.

“Maybe I can come with you.”

If he ignored her, maybe she would go away.

“I said, maybe Papa will allow me to go with you.”

Evidently not.

Giles lowered the paper again. “Do you make a habit of joining your father when he is conducting business?”

At her flush, he almost felt guilty.

“No.”

With a slight shake, he snapped the paper, and tried to focus.

“Are you doing business with my father?”

Bloody hell.

“Yes.” This time he answered through the words that were beginning to blur. Damned nuisance trying to read with bleating echoing in his ears.

“I need to take Blackie for a run.”

Ignoring her was not working.

“Thought you were going to change his name.” Giles affected a bored response.

“I am. Would you put that paper down? It’s annoying when I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“Any other female would understand this as a hint.”

“A what? Please, lower that thing.”

“‘Thing?’ The Louisiana Gazette?” When he peered over the top, Alex had fisted her hands, one on each side of her plate.

He hid a grin and directed a pointed glare to her hands. She quickly lifted her napkin and toyed with it in her lap.

“A hint. An indirect, noticeable implication, suggesting perhaps I might not want to engage in conversation.” His gaze bore into hers.

“Oh.” Just as she took a lungful of air, about to spout more gibberish, her father entered with the force of a gale wind.

“There you are. Good morning, Alex.” Even her father called her Alex.

“Good morning, Papa.”

“Giles, I’ve finished. Now, ready to see the plantation?”

“Most assuredly.” Giles folded the paper and stood, wondering if the chit would ask her father to come along. She did not.

“Tell your mother we’ll try to be back in time for dinner.” James turned to Giles. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He glanced to Alex and found her chewing on her bottom lip. “Good day, Alex.”

Cunning eyes darted to him. Giles groaned under his breath, for surely a plan of some sort rotated in her mind.

Surrounded by splendid groves, the mansion sat sagaciously in the middle of a plantation laid out for beauty and productiveness. Massive oaks and graceful magnolias provided shade. The gardens occupied a large area, filled with brilliant roses and all manner of rarer blossoms that reflected the rays of the sun. Flowers of every description perfumed the air.

Fields stretched for miles toward a dark belt of timber. Extensive orange and cherry orchards produced fruit and more.

A group of white buildings scattered within the back field, sugar-houses and cottages occupied by the laborers, including a kitchen where the fieldhands took their meals, and sheds where the carts and costly machinery were housed.

Giles had been observing for hours, but time passed quickly for there was much to see. James had not exaggerated when he described miles of acreage.

“This section may, without the least exaggeration, be the best land in the world.” James shifted on his horse and beamed with pride. “It protects the Mississippi channel. The rivers and bayous furnish fish and oysters of the finest flavor. The soil here is sedimentary formation. As you can see, we grow fruit and vegetables in tropical abundance.”

“Yes. Quite impressive,” Giles admitted.

“The conditions of life are easy. But make no mistake, my friend, the laborers work hard. I am not cruel, but I am a demanding taskmaster. In addition, I make a very comfortable living.”

A horn sounded from a steamboat on the river.

“Ah, the
Paragon
,” James said, identifying the boat. “Three hundred and fifty-five tons. One of the finest boats on the rivers. Headed to Louisville, no doubt, with a full cargo.”

“I have just invested in a new steamboat design.” Giles thought he’d share his venture and get James’ estimation of the project. “A gentleman proposed to connect each side wheel to one engine only—thus one wheel would be able to go forward while the other went backward, and the boat could be turned in its own length.”

“How big is he planning to make this boat? That would cut considerably on the cabin size and the amount of space for cargo.”

“There has been a lot of controversy over flexibility of steering and roomier cabins. He has designed two more stories of cabins and the pilothouse would sit atop that.”

James considered the idea. “Such a vessel would be top-heavy. More than likely turn over.”

“The gentleman has proved, in theory of course, the boat would cut easily through the water. That it would steer as if by magic.” Warming to the subject, Giles’ voice grew in enthusiasm.

“Now that I would have to see.”

“The merchant has my money. So time will tell.”

“Tomorrow we will visit the cane field. A profitable culture, sugar and rice. I have not forgotten I promised you a surprise,” James stated.

“I must admit I’ve been eager to see what that surprise might be.”

“Some men do not like surprises.” The older man winked. “I think you’ll like this one.”

Clicking the reins, he spurred his horse into a gallop. Giles followed.

“Well? What do you think?” Proud as a father boasting of his newborn son, James face beamed with pleasure.

Giles wondered if he should trust his vision. There, in front of him, appeared to be a replica of Morgan’s white stallion. Surely it could not be the same horse.

“Ha. Just the look I expected,” James said excitedly. “And before you ask, his name is Chrysaor. Like his namesake, he is brother to Pegasus—the horse your friend owns.”

“You were right.” Gazing at the mystical beast, Giles spoke with awe. “This is a surprise I most assuredly like. I had no idea two such identical beings existed.”

“You won’t be able to get too close. Ben has staked his claim for now. He’s the only one who can get within touching distance.” James shifted in his saddle. “We let Chrysaor roam free. Ben makes sure he doesn’t stray off our land.”

“So how did you come by him?”

“Morgan created quite a stir when he took Pegasus. The story of how he faced down a cruel owner and saved a prized stallion—which resembled a mythical creature, no less—spread far and wide. Embellished as the story flourished from one town to the next. And beyond.”

James removed his hat, thrust his fingers through his hair, and shoved the covering back on his head, all the while keeping a worshipful gaze on the animal. His tone might be matter-of-fact, but clearly he derived more than satisfaction from owning this particular stallion.

“Word came back of a man who owned such a horse. Jacobson, the man’s name, declared he’d never mistreated any animal. That’s how we found out there were two.” James glanced to Giles briefly, then resumed his admiration of the beautiful stallion in the pasture.

“Turned out the original owner had an accident and lost the use of his legs. The man he hired to help out, stole the horses and disappeared. Evidently this thief sold one to Jacobson. Said he was down on his luck and needed money, but could only part with one horse. Jacobson tried to buy both, but the man refused to sell the second one, which he claimed was named Pegasus. We figure that’s the man Morgan took the whip from.”

“How did you get this stallion?”

“Took some doing. I fancied that horse. Made Jacobson an offer no sane man could refuse.” A smile engulfed James’ face. “Look at him. Prances around as if he were a king. Have you ever seen anything so magical He’s like a spirit.”

“That he is.” Giles had to admit the animal looked exactly like the one in England. “And so is his brother.”

“Before you ask, he’s not for sale.” James appeared as if in a trance, and stared at the stallion as though he marveled at a dream.

“Clearly, this animal is special to you,” Giles stated.

“Uninhibited. Free. Beautiful. Spiritual. There are no words to describe what I feel when I look at that horse. Imagine two such creatures roaming that field.”

Ah-ha. That’s what this is about.

“I share your admiration, James. But I’m afraid you must be satisfied with only one. Whether or not Morgan’s feelings run as deep as yours, he would not give up Pegasus.”

From her upstairs window, Alex saw Papa and Giles down by the stables.

They’re back
.

She raced across the room, threw open the door and peeked left to right. No one to see her escape, she raced down the steps, hurried to the kitchen, and nearly collided with Phibe.

“Where you going in such a rush?”

“Uh, nowhere. Thought I might grab an apple for a snack.”

“Um hum.” Phibe crossed her arms under her big bosom. “You seem to be in a mighty fine hurry.”

“I’m hungry.” Alex snatched an apple from a basket.

“More ’n likely it’s for that black beast.”

“Isn’t he a beauty?” Better Phibe assume the treat was for the black than know the real reason for her urgency.

“Go on with ya.” Phibe laughed and fluffed her apron. “Guess he’s gotta eat, too.”

Alex tried to slow her steps, hoping to make a smooth and graceful exit, but her feet were as anxious as her galloping heart. She put one foot in front of the other and sprinted out the back door. As soon as the door closed, she took off, jumping for joy in her excitement.

BOOK: The Only One
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