The Training of a Marquess (24 page)

Back in the courtyard, he looked around to be certain he hadn’t missed anything, He picked up her dressing gown, and then her. Carrying her up the stairs, he realized he didn’t know where her room was located.

“Claire,” he hissed.

More mumbling. He grinned. Did she always sleep this deeply or had he done this to her? His manly self wanted to take the credit for reducing her to the equivalent of a sack of flour in his arms. Now what? There was only one person he trusted to be discreet and who would likely know where her room was. Chase walked down the hall and stopped in front of Anders’ door. He used his foot to knock.

In less than a minute, the door opened just wide enough for Anders to poke his head out. “My lord?”

“Where is her chamber?”

“In the east wing, my lord. Is Lady Derebourne sick?”

“More like exhausted. I’m a strong man, but I can only hold her for so long. Please lead the way to her room.”

“But, my lord, I am not dressed.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “The only person who is going to see you in your nightshirt is me and I promise not to talk, even under threat of torture. Now, lead on.”

His arms were tiring as he followed Anders to the end of the hall and into another wing that had the feel of being deserted. “Anders, who else has rooms in this wing?”

“No one, my lord, only Lady Derebourne.”

Chase’s jaw clenched. Why the bloody hell was she living in a wing by herself? If something happened, if she became sick, there would be no one near to help her. Anders stopped in front of one of the doors and opened it.

“You may return to bed.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Chase entered her chamber, thankful the open window let in enough moonlight to see the bed.

“Don’t leave,” she murmured when he lowered her.

He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “Hush, love. Go to sleep.”

She sighed and turned on her side. The temptation to climb into bed with her was great. He would pull her up against him and hold her until the morning so she wouldn’t be alone. With a muttered curse, he left while he still could. Tomorrow he would find out why she was here, so far away from everyone else. Then he would tell her to move into the west wing with the rest of them.

Though anxious to change her room to his liking, it would have to wait until he returned from his little trip. In the morning, he was taking Bensey to see a baby. Mrs. Smithfield had told him of a boy only one month old, and Chase had asked her to send the family a message that the marquess and his mother would pay a short visit.

He’d told Lady Anne his idea to have Bensey attempt to draw a portrait of Claire’s son. Once he explained why he wanted to do such a thing, she gave her full support. He asked her to come along because he thought the family would think it strange if only he and Bensey arrived asking to look at a baby. Lady Anne had arranged for a basket to take as a gift for the new mother so the family would think that was the reason for the visit.

Chase fell asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow and, unlike the last few nights, slept soundly through the remaining hours to morning.

Chapter Eighteen

Claire leaned against the rail. In the corral, Harry expertly flicked a rope behind Victory’s legs. He had asked if he could work with his own horse this morning.

“I would like you to tell me if I am doing everything right, Lady Claire. I love Victory and want him to be the best horse ever.”

The boy’s eagerness to learn thrilled her. To a degree, it validated her methods to see they also worked for Harry. The carriage moved past, stopping in front of the house. Chase, Lady Anne and Bensey, carrying his satchel, walked out the front door. A footman followed carrying a large basket.

Chase assisted his mother inside and Bensey climbed in behind her. Chase raised his hand in acknowledgement and entered the carriage. The footman placed the basket on the floor and closed the door. Claire frowned as they descended the hill and disappeared from view.

Where were they going? Why hadn’t he come and told her, or at the very least, said a polite good morning? It wouldn’t have taken more than a few minutes of his time.

After last night, shouldn’t she be able to expect at least a smile? Had she made a mistake? What if she had given him what he wanted and he had now lost interest? He admitted he had been a rogue. Wasn’t it the goal of a rake to make a conquest and then move on?

If she had lost him because she allowed her desire to overtake her good sense, then that made her a fool. The man had a problem with trust, and perhaps she had walked into his arms too easily. What if her wanton behavior had caused him to think she could be as easily swayed by another man?

But there would never be another man for her—her fate was sealed the moment he claimed her. Being with him had been beyond anything her imagination could have conceived. She didn’t know what to do other than continue on with the plan and pray she could win his heart.

“Lady Claire! Look at what I have taught Victory to do.”

Claire was aware Harry worked secretly with Victory in the afternoons after his lessons. Gordon told her the boy and his horse spent hours together, sometimes in training, sometimes just having fun.

“Well done. You have a magic touch with him.”

Harry grinned in obvious pleasure. They spent a few minutes discussing their plans for tomorrow’s training session before she left to go to her office. An hour later, she closed the breeding log, stood and stretched. The carriage hadn’t returned. Where were they? She’d asked Gordon, but he didn’t know.

She returned to her room where Maggie had a bath waiting. When she came downstairs, Chase and Lady Anne were enjoying a cup of tea in the drawing room. Claire had to bite down on her lip to keep from asking where they had gone. Should she start her strategy of ignoring him now? She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Chase stood and bowed. “Claire, we were hoping you would join us.”

She was chewing on her lip again. Hadn’t he warned her what would happen when she did that? Well, now the lady owed him another kiss.

Why was she doing so, however? She only did it when she was nervous or something was on her mind. Was she uneasy because of last night? Did she regret what happened between them? There were things that needed to be said between them, but with his mother in the room, their talk would have to wait.

Claire sailed past him without a glance, her attention on his mother. He frowned.

“Lady Anne, it is a pleasure to see you this morning.”

“And you, Claire. Come have a seat next to me and tell me how your morning went. I watched out the window as you gave Harry his lesson on how to talk to a horse.

“I didn’t see the horse speak, but then I was more interested in your manner of dress. I have never thought to see a lady in breeches, but cannot imagine why we don’t wear them. I would think they must be considerably more comfortable than the gowns and other unmentionables we’re expected to wear.

“Oh, I wish I were young and tall like you, my dear, because I would have a pair made for myself. Imagine all the things I could do that cannot be done in a gown.”

“Such as what, Mama?” Chase asked, curious to see where the question would take her. With his mother, it was always an interesting journey.

“Well, for starters I could climb a tree, jump a fence or explore a cave. I’m sure if you give me time, I’ll be able to come up with dozens of other things. Consider, if you will, how restricted you would feel wearing a gown. Don’t stare at me as if I have bats in my attic, Kensington. Men have been known to wear skirts. Why, look at the Scots with their kilts. Have you ever seen a man wearing a kilt, Claire?”

Chase had been amusing himself by watching the different expressions cross Claire’s face as his mother carried on. What wasn’t amusing was that she had not once glanced his way. Had she purposely not done so or was it only that she was concentrating on keeping up with Lady Anne?

“No, I don’t believe I have,” Claire answered.

“Oh, that’s a shame, my dear. It is quite a sight to see,” Lady Anne said with a dreamy smile.

Thankfully, before she could give Claire a detailed description of a man wearing a kilt, which he was certain she was about to do, Smithfield announced luncheon was served.

Chase stood, offered an arm to each of his ladies and led them to the dining room. By the time luncheon was over he was as irritated as a poked bear. Claire ignored him unless he asked her a direct question, only giving him the briefest of answers before turning her attention back to Lady Anne.

What the bloody hell was going on in her mind? After last night, she should be giving him intimate smiles and secretive looks. Instead, it appeared as if she had forgotten he existed. He had half a mind to drag her away to someplace private and find out what she was about. But first, he would kiss her senseless and show her that she couldn’t ignore him.

“Why the devil is your chamber in the east wing, Claire?”

“Your language, Kensington,” Lady Anne chided.

Claire looked at him as if he had lost his mind and perhaps he had. He hadn’t meant to address the subject now and in front of his mother, but, deuce take it, he was beginning to think he was the one with bats in his attic.

He inclined his head at the footman. After the man left, he turned to his mother. “She’s in the east wing by herself, Mama. What if she gets sick and needs help? That is too far away for anyone to hear her if she calls out.”

Lady Anne frowned. “Why is that, Claire? Aren’t there enough rooms in the west wing with the rest of us?”

She gave his mother a little shrug. “When the devil lord arrived, I didn’t think it appropriate to remain in the room attached to his, or in the same wing of the house, for that matter.”

Chase suppressed a smile and raised a brow. “The devil lord?”

Her cheeks turned a pretty pink. “Well, it’s how I thought of you when you arrived.”

“And now?”

“Now what?”

“Don’t be obtuse, my dear. You understand me.”

She shrugged. “I’ve not decided. And don’t give me another raised brow. You shouldn’t have asked the question if you didn’t want to hear the answer.”

“Well, let me know when you decide. In the meantime, you will relocate yourself to your old room.”

“It’s not appropriate for me to be in the room attached to yours, and you know it.”

“Keep the door locked if it will make you feel better, but I don’t want you sleeping in a wing by yourself.”

“No.”

The fire in her eyes was magnificent. To hell with only stealing a kiss, he wanted to drag her up to his chamber and have this out with her in his bed. Yes, indeed, if they married, they would have some grand fights followed by hours of making passionate love. He grew hard at the thought and shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable.

“No? I am the master of this house and you will obey me.”

Although he was baiting her, he couldn’t resist. He wanted her attention on him—wanted to keep the fire in her eyes. No question, the woman stirred his blood.

“She’s right, Kensington. Claire cannot be in the room attached to yours, but I’m sure there is another suitable chamber in our wing she can move into.”

“Fine, it’s settled then. Go and choose a room to your liking, Claire. Have your maid move your things immediately.”

She stood and gave him a curtsey that managed to be insulting. “Yes, my lord and master. Right away, master.” She stomped out of the room.

Chase gave her retreating back a wide grin.

“Well, that was interesting,” Lady Anne said.

“Wasn’t it though?” he answered, still grinning.

Claire danced up the stairs with a light heart. The arrogant, scowling devil lord was worried about her safety. The thought warmed her down to her toes. A satisfied smile crossed her face. What a fine performance she had given.

“I am master of this house and you will obey me,” she mimicked as she entered her room.

“Pardon, my lady?” Maggie asked. Clothing fresh from the laundry was spread over the bed.

“Oh, nothing, Maggie. No need to put those away. I’m moving back to the west wing.”

“Back into your chamber?”

“No, I think the garden room will do.”

The room had a nice view overlooking the gardens and was one of her favorites. Though she’d never admit it to Chase, she was happy to be moving back to the west wing. It had been difficult to sleep in this wing knowing she was alone. Every creak and groan of the floors or walls had seemed like a warning that danger was approaching.

A knock on the door made her heart skip a beat. Had he come to make sure she was moving her things? Maggie opened the door and spoke to a footman. “You are wanted in the drawing room, my lady. You have visitors,” Maggie said.

“Did he say who?”

“It’s Mrs. Fisherman and her daughter. Lord Derebourne requested your presence immediately.”

“Bells in hell, doesn’t Mrs. Fisherman have better things to do than attempting to catch Lord Derebourne for her daughter?”

“It doesn’t seem so, my lady.”

Claire checked her appearance in the mirror. She probably should change into a black gown, but the lavender would have to do. True to his lordship’s threat, all her black gowns and white lace caps had disappeared. When asked where her mourning gowns were, her maid gave a suspiciously innocent look and replied that she couldn’t really say.

“Can’t say, or won’t?”

“Perhaps you should be asking the master, my lady, if you really want to know. In my opinion, good riddance,” Maggie had added dismissively.

Claire stifled a smile of amusement at Chase’s obvious relief when she walked into the drawing room. He stood and bowed to her. “Lady Derebourne, as you can see, Mrs. Fisherman and her lovely daughter, Miss Fisherman, have come for a visit,
again
.”

Mrs. Fisherman beamed at his reference to her lovely daughter, altogether missing his emphasis on the word again. “Lady Claire, such a pleasure to see you, but there is no need to interrupt your day on our account.”

Had she just been dismissed in her own home? “Oh, do not concern yourself, Mrs. Fisherman. I have nothing pressing to attend to at the moment.” Claire sat on the sofa next to Rhonda. “How are you today, Rhonda?”