The Training of a Marquess (13 page)

She caught Chase staring at her feet and wanted to grin, but settled for wriggling her toes in the sand. “Aren’t you going to remove your boots?” she asked.

He jerked his gaze up to her face. His eyes were a deeper blue, the same color as when he kissed her. If he were one of her horses, she’d say her plan was working. He gave a little shake of his head and then sat down next to her on the rock. His arm brushed hers, her skin prickling where they touched.

“Harry, Bensey, give me a hand here.” He stretched out his legs and lifted a foot.

The boys pulled and tugged and, with much merriment, managed to remove his snug fitting boots. When he removed his stockings, she understood his fascination with her feet. Claire had never thought of feet being elegant, but his were. Her fingers itched to touch them when he wriggled his toes in the sand as she had. She glanced up to see him intently watching her. His lips twitched when she blushed.

Chase was thoroughly convinced he had lost his mind somewhere between Hillcrest and the sea. It probably happened the moment she raced past him on her fairy horse clad in leather breeches and wearing gypsy earrings. He shouldn’t notice how the silk shirt hugged her curves, shouldn’t be having carnal thoughts about her little pink toes—or any other part of her for that matter.

Nor should he like the way she stared at his feet with a hungry gleam in her eyes. Her blush when he caught her out had been charming. He glanced at his feet. They weren’t ugly, but he didn’t see what she found fascinating about them. Hers on the other hand…

Bloody hell, he had to stop thinking about her toes. His horse nuzzled his face, and he scratched Mischief’s nose. “Silly horse. Feeling ignored, are you?”

“He wants to go swimming,” Harry said.

“Does he now?” Chase stood, offering a hand to Claire. “Shall we take a ride on the beach before we have our picnic?”

She placed her hand in his, and something happened to him. This was where her hand belonged, in his. She looked at him with her big blue eyes, and he lost his bearings.

He wanted to make love to her, softly, leisurely and thoroughly. He wanted to peel off her clothes and spend hours exploring her body, wanted to touch his fingertips to her soft skin as she moaned his name. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted another woman, maybe even more than Teresa.

Bloody hell.

Chase dropped her hand and turned to Bensey. “Will you be all right if we ride for a few minutes? We’ll stay in sight and perhaps you can begin your drawing of Amira and Lady Derebourne.”

Bensey picked up his satchel and set about organizing his pencils and charcoal. Chase removed his coat, and then gave Harry a leg up on Victory.

He turned to Claire. “My lady?”

She placed her foot, warm from the sand, on his interlocked fingers and swung her leg over Amira. Chase squeezed his eyes shut. He had to stop thinking about her feet. Opening his eyes, he grabbed Mischief’s reins, led him to a rock and mounted.

They headed for the water. Harry bounced around a little on Victory, but Claire was again one with her horse. When they reached the waves, Claire nudged Amira into an easy lope and Harry followed suit. Within minutes of riding along the water line, Harry rode bareback almost as well as Claire.

The horses seemed to like splashing through the waves, Mischief nickering from the fun of it. Without warning, his idiot horse took a hard left, heading for deeper water. Chase hadn’t come as close to falling off since he was in short pants, learning to ride his first pony.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He pulled Mischief to a stop.

His fool horse stomped at the waves as if trying to catch them. Chase decided standing still and letting Mischief play was much easier on his arse than bouncing saddleless atop a galloping horse.

Down the beach, Claire and Harry seemed in deep conversation as they rode side by side. Chase tried to imagine Teresa in leather breeches, riding bareback and barefoot while talking with a boy from the streets. He couldn’t.

“Father,” Harry called. “Lady Derebourne said if it is all right with you, I can come to the stables with her in the morning and she will teach me to train horses. I want to do it ever so much, so please say yes. Please.”

The excitement in his son’s eyes would have prevented any likelihood of saying no even if he had been so inclined. He wanted Harry to learn all he could from her and had planned to ask her to allow him to watch her training sessions.

“Yes, but you understand it means getting up at dawn.”

“Oh, thank you, Father. I promise I’ll get up when I’m supposed to. I want to tell Bensey.”

He took off and Chase marveled at how easily he now rode Victory without a saddle.

“He’s a natural,” Claire said.

“I know. I was just thinking that I envied him.” When she arched a brow, he shrugged. “Never thought to say I would envy a nine year old boy’s ability to ride bareback, but there it is.”

“Missing your saddle, are you?”

“My arse is missing my saddle, pardon my language.”

She laughed and he joined her. Life was good. When was the last time he’d been carefree and happy? When had he last laughed with a woman he truly liked?

Sea birds called overhead. He watched them circle, their wings stretched wide to catch the draft. The sun warmed his face, the breeze tousled his hair, and he smiled. This was the best day he’d had in a long, long time. There would be no thinking today, no worries about tomorrow. For now, there was only this day, this woman, his sons, the sound of the sea, and the sun warm on his face.

In easy companionship, he and Claire walked their mounts along the edge of the water. He listened to her voice and liked the music of it, liked the way she looked into his eyes when she spoke. Teresa had rarely met his gaze.

“Thank you for allowing Harry to spend time with me at the stables. I think he has much potential. I’ve always wanted a promising student. My training is different, but it seems to work better than the way most train their horses.”

“You’re welcome, but you should know I was going to ask it of you. His natural abilities with horses was a surprise, especially if you consider he had never been on one before a year ago. From the first time I put him on a pony it was as if he found his passion in life. It’s important the twins have a purpose as they cannot inherit from me. For Harry it’s horses, for Bensey, his art.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right, it’s fortunate they each have found something that will sustain them through life. I know how adrift I felt before I found my purpose.”

He had never considered life from a woman’s point of view. They were raised to be wives and mothers. Never had he thought it might not be enough for some. For her. How was it fair for a woman to be told she had to give up something that was a part of who she was? Not only would he make sure the husband she chose was kind and gentle, but the man would have to love horses and be willing to allow her to have a hand in training them.

If he found her a husband
. Bloody hell, where had that come from? Of course, he was going to follow his plan.

“Would you would mind if the twins addressed me as Lady Claire?” she asked. “I’m friends with them now. Lady Derebourne sounds so formal and distant. They’re such charming boys and I like them tremendously. Would you allow it?”

“If that is what you wish.”

Her warm smile was so pleasing his dead heart flickered to life. His reaction to her smiles should concern him, and it would—tomorrow.

They returned to Bensey. Chase swung his leg over Mischief’s back and slid to the ground. He turned to Claire and lifted her off Amira, lowering her down. His hands lingered on her waist longer than they should. His gaze lingered on her pink lips longer than it should.

Harry held out Bensey’s sketchpad. “Look at Bensey’s picture, Father.”

Chase tore his gaze away. Christ. How did one rid oneself of pixie dust?

“Oh, Bensey, it’s beautiful,” Claire said.

And it was. Bensey had drawn them riding on the beach, Claire’s red blouse, gypsy earrings, the flowers in Amira’s mane and the ribbons woven into her tail the only bright colors. He had used muted blues and grays for the sea and sky, and white for Amira and the sand.

“Once again, you amaze me, son.”

Bensey grinned, took the pad from Harry and flipped the page. Chase stared at it a moment before bursting into laughter. Bensey had caught him at the instant he had almost fallen off Mischief. In the picture, he was leaning at a precarious angle with one leg raised above his head. The look on his face was comical.

The other three joined him in his laughter, and a seed was planted in his mind. This is how it feels to have a true and loving family.

They settled on the rocks, sharing a lunch of cold chicken, cheeses, apples, and to the twins delight, cakes. They talked about the sea, fish and turtles, the sea birds and the best way to build sand castles. They teased each other, told riddles and laughed more than he ever remembered doing so.

While a part of him joined in the conversation and the teasing, another part marveled over how much fun he was having.

After Teresa died, there had always been guilt whenever he felt good, or laughed or forgot about her for more than a few minutes. But she had made her choice, and for the first time, he realized it was her choice to make. She had decided to never let go of her Harry instead of holding him in a special place in her heart and moving on with her life.

Chase had never resented her love for Harry, but he had deeply resented how desperately she held onto the past. Yet, wasn’t that what he was doing? Seeing him now, she would not have been pleased. She would have wanted him to remarry and have the family he’d always longed for. His thoughts watered the little seed and tiny roots sprouted. He had much to think about.

“I have a splendid idea,” Harry said.

Chase slapped his hand over his heart in mock horror. “Be afraid, Lady Claire. When Harry has an idea, it’s time to run for the hills.”

His son punched him on the arm. “This one is a very good idea, Father. We can have a sandcastle building contest. Me and Bensey against you and Lady Derebourne.”

“What say you, Lady Claire? Are you any good at building sandcastles?”

“Oh, I certainly am. And, Harry, I would be honored if you and Bensey addressed me as Lady Claire.”

Harry grinned. “We would like that ever so much, Lady Claire.” Bensey nodded in agreement.

They teamed off and went to work on their sandcastles. Each promised not to sneak a peek at the other’s until they were finished and could judge the results. True to her word, Claire was good at the thing, so Chase took his direction from her. When they finished, he thought they had a magnificent sandcastle. Until, that is, he saw the twins’ creation.

“Ye gads,” he said.

Claire followed his gaze. “Oh, my God.”

For no good reason, they fell into a fit of laughter. “Amazing,” he said when he caught his breath. Harry was no one’s fool, thus his choice of a teammate. Chase had no doubt it was Bensey, the artist, who was responsible for the most awe-inspiring sandcastle ever built.

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” Claire asked.

“No, I don’t believe I have. I wonder what would happen if I gave him a lump of clay.”

“You should try it and see.”

“Did we win, Father?” Bensey asked.

“Yes, I believe you did.”

“What did we win?” Harry asked.

“You won a kiss from the sea monster.” Chase held his hands high like claws. They screamed and he chased them down the beach.

Chapter Eleven

Claire sat on the sand as Chase ran after his laughing boys. It hurt, this yearning to belong to their family.

The first stage of her plan seemed to be working, giving her hope. He was aware of her, of that she was certain. One moment stood out. He had been watching the sea birds, then had lowered his head and smiled.

It was the first true smile he had given her.

The boys ran back and hid behind her. “Save us from the sea monster, Lady Claire,” Harry yelled.

“Where are the little scamps?” the sea monster said. “I’m hungry and little boys are mighty tasty.”

Claire pointed to the sea. “I think they went that way.”

The twins giggled. “I heard that,” the monster growled, making a grab for them. They shrieked and took off running.

Chase dropped down beside her. “If I had half their energy, I could rule the world.”

The boys played at the water’s edge, trying to keep the waves from touching their feet. “Do they remember their parents?”

“When they first came to me, they remembered bits and pieces, but even those memories are fading. They said their father died first and then later their mother became sick and died. Harry thinks his father worked on the docks. From the best I can gather, they were alone for at least a year before I found them.”

Claire shuddered at the thought of such young children living on the streets. “It’s hard to understand how they survived.”

“Bensey wouldn’t have without Harry,” he said, and she knew it was true.

“Then he was fortunate to have had Harry and both are fortunate to have you.” He didn’t seem aware that his foot caressed hers as he spoke. Little shivers traveled up her leg from his touch. Not wanting to call notice to his action and have him stop, she kept her attention on his face.

“I’m blessed to have them.” He stood and held out his hand. “We should probably head home.”

She put her hand in his and he pulled her up. Surprising her, he gave her a quick kiss.

“Thank you for today, Claire.” He grinned and kissed her again. “That one was for loving my boys.”

Oh, my. She didn’t know which she liked best, the brief kiss or his dimple when he smiled.

“Your boys are easy to love.”
As are you
. There was a new lightness in his voice and eyes. She would give almost anything to know if her plan had anything to do with it.

He called to the boys and then whistled. Hearing his master’s call, Mischief trotted toward them with Amira and Victory following.

Claire called for baths upon reaching home. She had sand and salt in places she didn’t even want to consider and imagined it was the same for Chase and the boys. Deciding she was done with black, she chose a lavender gown to wear to dinner. Picking up a brush, she curled up on her window seat. While she dried her hair, she considered the next step in her plan.