The Training of a Marquess (10 page)

Chapter Eight

His grin was ill-advised, but she had turned as bristly as a hedgehog and it amused him. “Yes, Claire, today at two will be convenient.”

“Thank you. Good day, then.”

Being dismissed by a lady was a novel experience. After giving her a courtly bow, Chase took his leave. He glanced back to see her attention focused on the horse. Would that he could dismiss her from his mind just as easily.

After breakfast, Chase took the twins to the lake for another swimming lesson. Although he kept an eye on the trees, there was no flash of pale hair. It was for the best, and he shouldn’t be disappointed.

To the boys’ regret, Claire didn’t join them for luncheon. After they finished their meal, he sent the twins off to their lessons and then headed for his study. It was half past one and he had a few minutes before Claire was due for her appointment.

Going to the window, he stared out at the view. As far as he could see—and beyond—now belonged to him. The property extended to the cliffs overlooking the sea, too far for his eyes to behold. Even though he’d not wanted the responsibility of Hillcrest upon first inheriting it, he was coming to love the estate and surrounding properties.

It occurred to him the boys had never seen the sea and decided tomorrow would be a good day for a picnic. He and Harry would ride, and Bensey could travel in the carriage with the food basket.

Would Claire like to go with them? With the twins as chaperones, he wouldn’t be alone with her. She would want to ride Amira and might even wear her leather breeches. Claire in breeches astride a powerful horse was a beautiful sight to behold. Perhaps he could convince Bensey to paint her.

In fifteen minutes, she would arrive to ask for the horses. He still hadn’t decided on his answer. They were his now and he couldn’t deny he wanted them. Chase intended them for Harry—envisioned turning the operation over to him when he came of age.

Until then, who could manage the operation for him? He was too busy with his various estates to give it the necessary time. If Claire was responsible for the stables success, what would happen when she left?

For her own good, he would refuse her request. It might not be right or fair, but it was a man’s world. No matter she understood horses better than the majority of men he knew, she simply couldn’t set up shop under her own name and expect to be accepted.

His plan was a better solution. She might not appreciate his intentions at first, but would come to see it was for the best to have a husband and home of her own.

Why he wanted to growl, he had no clue.

****

Claire agonized over what to wear for her meeting with Chase. Donning the black bombazine and appearing as the grieving widow was not the image she wanted to portray. She needed to come across as confident, though she was not, knowledgeable, which she most certainly was, and capable of managing her own stables. Two out of three was a good start.

It wasn’t that she lacked confidence in her abilities. Training horses was her specialty, and she had her proposal prepared along with a payment plan. Her nerves were due to her uncertainty as to the Marquess of Derebourne’s response to her offer.

Finally choosing a dark blue gown of simple design, she sat at her vanity while Maggie styled her hair into its usual twist.

“Do you want the lace cap, my lady?”

“No, Maggie. I think we’re done. Thank you.”

After Maggie left, Claire studied her image in the mirror. The image of a governess stared back at her. This just wouldn’t do. The meeting would determine her future. Appearing as meek and unsure of herself would be a mistake. This was the time to be bold and daring. She had the urge to change into her leather breeches, march into his study and announce how things were going to be.

From the way Chase had eyed her this morning, he obviously liked her breeches. Perhaps if she pranced around his study with her legs encased in leather he would be too bemused to say no. She smiled at the picture that formed in her mind. It was so tempting.

If she could make it from her chamber to the study without the servants seeing her, she would do it. It wasn’t that they didn’t know about her working clothes. They were aware she was the force behind Hillcrest Stables, and were used to her appearing in breeches in the early morning hours. It would be an entirely different matter to be caught wearing them for an audience with the marquess.

If only she could get from here to his study unobserved. It occurred to her she could. The abbey was full of secret passages, and one of them opened into the study. Did she dare? She glanced in the mirror again. Yes, she did.

She managed to unbutton the gown herself and then changed into her working clothes. Going to the vanity, she pulled the pins out of her hair and braided it. When she finished, she liked what she saw in the mirror. This was the real Claire, not the washed-out widow needing someone to take care of her. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, thank you very much.

Claire hugged the wall as she made her way to the west wing. Once, she had to duck into an unused bedroom to avoid one of the maids. Her goal was her old chamber. From there, she could enter the secret passages and make her way downstairs.

What would Chase think when she stepped into the room in her breeches? Anticipation surged inside her—or perhaps it was trepidation. She had no idea which as the man confused her.

That she loved him, she did not doubt. He was everything she would want in a man. Kind, intelligent, beautiful, and able to do funny things to her body—things Claire didn’t understand. But oh, she wanted to.

She had only wanted one kiss from him, or so she’d thought. She had her kiss, not just one, but two toe-curling kisses.

Now, she wanted more. She was a widow, so who would know if he bedded her? Nor would it ever be an issue. Not long after Thomas died, she’d made up her mind to never marry again. Although, she might consider it if Chase asked. Since he wasn’t going to, she would settle for one night with him.

Assuredly, he could show her how it should be between a man and a woman. If that meant she was wanton and not a proper lady, who cared? She would never live in London, would never have to worry about her reputation. Just one night with him was all she asked, and she would make it happen somehow. It would also mean more heart-throbbing kisses.

Stop thinking about kisses
.

This wasn’t the time to think of the things she wanted to do with the marquess. Her focus needed to be on presenting her proposal in a professional manner. Her campaign had to be successful else she’d lose everything.

Claire brushed a cobweb from her face and leaned her ear to the secret panel into the study. Not hearing anything, she took a deep breath and she pushed on the door. Chase stood with his back to her, staring out the window.

What was he thinking? She never knew, yet he seemed to read her like an open book. Her gaze roamed from his long, powerful legs encased in black boots, over his firm buttocks and up to his broad shoulders. His golden hair curled over his collar, and she wanted to touch it again.

It was difficult to concentrate on the reason for the meeting when this yearning appeared at the sight of him. He stirred something deep inside her, something new and exciting. She wanted to explore these novel feelings, to touch him here and there, wanted to trail her fingers over his skin and learn him. In an effort to suppress her thoughts, she stepped back and pressed her forehead to the cold stone wall.

Think only of the horses, Claire. They’re your future, not the marquess.

Her resolve in place, she quietly entered the study. “My lord.”

“There you go lording me again.” He turned. “I…ah.” His eyes widened and he blinked as if to clear them before his gaze raked her from head to toe.

A thrill shot through her. No man had ever looked at her with such burning intensity before him. She wanted what those eyes offered so much it was a physical hurt.

He cleared his throat. “I was going to say I didn’t hear you enter, but you have robbed me of speech. It seems I’m going to have to revise my opinion that there is nothing more enticing than a woman wearing a beautiful gown. Have you just come from the stables?”

She stepped closer, and his gaze fell hungrily to her hips. Oh, this was fun. She might never wear another gown. “No, Chase, I just came from my bedroom.”

“Your bedroom?”

The low, husky sound of his voice and the heat in his eyes drew her forward. “Yes, my
bedroom
.”

If he decided he wanted her here—this minute—on the floor in bright daylight, she would happily agree. It was his fault she’d turned wanton.

Now close enough to inhale his scent, she took a deep breath. He stepped back, putting distance between them. She wanted to put her hands on him and pull him against her.

He tugged at his cravat with one hand and gestured at the chair in front of his desk with the other. “Shall we?”

The man was disconcerted, and the knowledge pleased her. It was only fair. She was beginning to believe he desired her, but vigorously fought against it. Would he ever be able to put his wife to rest?

When she had become fascinated with the horses, she had watched and learned until she considered herself as qualified as any man to train them. Then she had started working with damaged horses, helping them to heal.

Could she do the same for him? The idea intrigued her, and she stored the notion away for further consideration. For now, she had her future to settle. She sat and waited for him to speak.

Chase tried to keep his eyes above Claire’s neck. The leather breeches hugged her long legs and bottom, and he could see the outline of her chemise through her white linen shirt. Swallowing hard, he attempted to turn his mind to the business at hand. Unfortunately, his brain didn’t seem to be working properly.

If ever there came a time when women walked around in public dressed as Claire was now, men would be in serious trouble. Their minds would be so bewitched they would never get any work done. God forbid, breeches-clad women could take over the world and men would be struck too stupid to even know it was happening. All they would be thinking about was the enticing curves so clearly visible.

Chase shook his head to clear it. Claire watched him as if she knew his thoughts. His cheeks heated and he realized with horror he was blushing—the mere idea caused him to blush harder. He cleared his throat, intending to ask her about the horses.

“Would you like to go on a picnic tomorrow?”

“Pardon?”

There, he had just proved his theory. He’d obviously been struck stupid. “A picnic. The thing where you pack a basket of food and go on an outing. A picnic. Tomorrow.”

He was rambling. He was daft.

She scrunched her eyebrows together as if trying to make sense of his words. He wished her luck with that. “I thought I would take Harry and Bensey to the sea tomorrow for a picnic. I’m inviting you.”

When she chewed on her bottom lip—drawing his attention to it—he silently begged her to stop.

“If you can wait to leave until I have completed my chores, I would like to go. I love the sea and even though it’s close, I rarely take the time to go.”

Dare he remind her she had supposedly gone there yesterday? She rattled him so it would only be fair to return the favor. “Did you not tell me you rode to the sea yesterday?”

Her cheeks turned pink.

“And that you enjoyed the view?”

The pink turned to red and Chase resisted the urge to laugh.

“I believe I said I rarely take the time to go,” she said. “Yesterday was the exception.”

“You should go more often if you find the view so enjoyable. Would eleven be too early to leave?”

Big blue eyes blinked. “What?”

“The picnic,” he gently reminded her, happy to be back in control.

“Yes. Yes, the picnic. Eleven is good.”

“Splendid. You, Harry and I will ride. We’ll take the carriage for Bensey and the food. Will you instruct the cook to prepare a basket for us?”

“Certainly.”

A silence fell between them and Chase realized she was waiting for him to begin the discussion. “You have my attention, Claire.”

Her facial expression changed to determination. Although he would listen to her plea, he’d come to a decision and hoped he could make her understand.

Chapter Nine

Claire pressed her hand over her pounding heart. The next few minutes would determine her life. She had practiced the words she would say, but couldn’t remember them. The kindness in Chase’s eyes was her undoing. Tears welled and she tried to blink them away.

“Perhaps you should start by telling me the condition of the stables before you became involved.”

With a few simple words, he calmed her. Her heart eased its hammering. She could answer his question with ease and gave him a grateful smile.

“I told you how I came to be interested. When I began spending time in the stables, we had one stallion and three mares of questionable bloodlines. No breeding records were kept and the offspring were sold to local families, usually as a horse for one of their children. The stallion was Thomas’ personal horse and my husband’s interest didn’t extend beyond having a decent mount.”

Warming to her subject, she explained how she had purchased a stallion and mare of prime bloodlines, how she had invested her profits from the sale of their first colt and purchased another mare, and then another. Then came a second stallion, a third—and now there were five stallions and fifteen mares.

“I keep meticulous breeding records which had never been done before. This past year, we offered stud services to gentlemen wanting to breed their mares to one of my boys, and that venture has exceeded my expectations.”

When she told him what she charged for stud fees, Chase whistled. Claire froze. Bells in hell, what was she thinking? He would never sell the horses to her now, and if he did consider it, she would never be able to afford his price.

“I may have exaggerated the success of the stud service operation.”

Throughout her presentation, he’d given his complete attention, but now she detected amusement in his eyes. If so, she would slap his face. Then he smiled and his dimple appeared—mesmerizing her. Her foolish heart thumped in her chest. How did he do this to her with one simple smile and one captivating dimple?