The Training of a Marquess (8 page)

The marquess was at the lake wearing only his drawers. There was a spot where she could go and see him swimming, and he would never know she was there. No, she mustn’t. Even as she swore to herself she wouldn’t do it, she returned to her room and changed into a green riding habit that would blend in with the trees.

Claire tied Amira to a branch and made her way through the woods. When she arrived at the place from where she could see the lake, she stopped. The most amazing view of a man she had ever seen stood before her. Chase walked out of the water wearing only his drawers. His hair was wet, and water ran down his muscled chest and long legs. He laughed and said something over his shoulder to the boys, but she was too far away to hear.

Sweet heavens, he was beautiful. She chewed on her bottom lip as a battle waged in her mind. She should leave. It wasn’t proper to spy on a near naked man. Oh, but she wanted to see more. And she might never have another chance to see a man’s body as beautiful as this one. If she slipped through the trees just a few more feet, she’d have a closer view. He would never know.

****

Chase stood at the edge of the boulder preparing to dive into the lake. The twin’s lessons had gone well, both of them taking to the water like baby fish. They had learned to stay afloat by paddling their feet and thought it grand fun to hold their noses and sink under. As their reward, he’d agreed to jump off the boulder. Just as he lifted off, he saw a flash of moonlight-colored hair before it disappeared behind a nearby tree.

The minx!

The surprise of catching her spying almost caused him to hit the water on his belly. At the last second, he pulled up his knees, wrapped his arms around them and made such a big splash that when he came to the surface the boys yelled their approval.

“Jolly good, Father,” Harry yelled.

“Do it again,” Bensey said.

So, she wanted a show. Well, he would give her one. He sauntered out of the water and climbed back onto the rock. This time, instead of jumping, he dived—his legs together, his toes pointed and his arms held straight out from his sides. When he neared the water, he swung his arms forward and followed his hands into the lake with the barest of ripples. When he surfaced, the twins madly clapped their hands.

“That was the most splendid of things,” Harry said. “Will you teach us how to do it?”

“When I’m confident you’re good swimmers I’ll teach you how to jump first, then how to dive.”

Satisfied, Harry and Bensey started a splash war. Chase glanced up at the trees from the corner of his eye and caught a sliver of pale hair flash in the sun. He grinned. Prepare yourself, my sneaky little minx, you haven’t seen anything, yet.

He waded out of the lake and picked up a drying cloth. Turning his back to her, he leisurely rubbed it over his body. When he bent over to dry his legs, he stole a peek from under his arm. Claire leaned out from behind the tree, her eyes wide and staring. He stifled a laugh and called to the boys to come dry off. She disappeared into the forest.

“Happy to oblige,” he murmured.

Riding back to Hillcrest Abbey, his mind was full of Claire Tremaine. Again. He couldn’t help but to be amused by her antics today. Had she never seen a man’s body? She had been married four years, for God’s sake. How could one be married that long, yet never been kissed or seen a man without his clothes?

Clearly, Derebourne had bedded her as she had given birth to a son. Chase had heard there were men who bedded their wives in the dark, only lifting their nightdress enough to do the thing. He might understand if she was hard to look on, but Claire was far from unsightly.
You were a fool
, he told the dead Derebourne.

If she were his wife...he ruthlessly shut the thought down. He’d avoided her for most of the day for his own peace of mind. Kissing her had been a monumental mistake, even if it had been a kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about.

****

Claire rushed into her room, closed and locked the door. Sweet heavens. When Chase had bent over with his back to her, she hadn’t been able to look away. Even though she should have, because what kind of woman spied on a naked man? His lean, muscled body was a piece of art and should be in a museum on display. Although the mere idea of other women looking at him in appreciation didn’t settle well.

And oh, the sight of his buttocks outlined by the wet linen of his drawers—all firm and rounded—and his powerful legs had caused her mouth to dry.

She would die if he knew she had been hiding in the trees and watching him. This couldn’t continue. She had her kiss. Now, she needed to concentrate on her goal of convincing him to give her the horses, or make an arrangement to purchase them.

She rang the bell for her maid and unlocked her door. Maggie arrived and helped her into her widow’s weeds and white lace cap. The sound of carriage wheels on the gravel drive floated up. Claire glanced out the window and groaned at seeing Mrs. Fisherman, the vicar’s wife, and her daughter step out. She pushed the last strands of hair under her cap and waited for Smithfield to send word she had visitors.

In the drawing room, Mrs. Fisherman droned on as she importantly disclosed the latest village gossip. Claire’s thoughts strayed to Chase and the way his wet body had looked when he emerged from the lake—the droplets of water on his skin glistening in the sun. She had touched that muscle-hard chest and wanted to do it again.

“Lady Derebourne!”

Claire blinked. “My apologies. I just recalled something I need to tell my housekeeper. You were saying?”

Mrs. Fisherman gave a small tsk. “I was saying, if you had been listening, my lady, that I understand the new marquess is in residence. Is he available for introductions? I’m quite certain he would wish to make the acquaintance of my dear Rhonda. As soon as I heard he had arrived, I knew we must have an assembly to welcome him. The ladies planning committee agreed and we have set aside a week from Saturday.”

Oh, no. Mrs. Fisherman couldn’t possibly think Chase would be interested in her daughter. Rhonda was one and twenty, and for the past two years, Mrs. Fisherman had desperately tried to find her a husband. The unfortunate girl was horse faced with teeth a rabbit would envy, as thin as a stick and as shy as a mouse. Her overbearing mother constantly pushed men at her.

Once, Claire had found the girl in the lady’s retiring room in tears. When Claire comforted her, Rhonda had admitted she had feelings for Bobby, the blacksmith’s son, confiding that Bobby had asked Mr. Fisherman for her hand. Mrs. Fisherman had refused the offer as she expected her daughter to make a better match than the son of a blacksmith.

Between sobs, Rhonda said she couldn’t bear the embarrassment of her mother’s matchmaking efforts with men who would never consider her for a wife. In Claire’s opinion, Rhonda and Bobby were a perfect match. He was homely and as shy as Rhonda. It likely took years for the two to get up the courage to greet each other, but they suited so well.

Chase would give the poor girl the vapors. Already, Rhonda was shrinking into the sofa as if she could become invisible. Claire wanted to slap some sense into Mrs. Fisherman.

“Lady Claire, Bensey would like—forgive me, my lady. I didn’t realize you had guests.”

His golden hair still damp from his swim, Chase stood in the doorway alongside Harry and Bensey.

“Mrs. Fisherman, Miss Fisherman, the Marquess of Derebourne and his sons, Harry and Bensey. My lord, allow me to introduce Mrs. Fisherman and her daughter, Miss Fisherman.”

Chase pushed the twins into the room ahead of him and bowed, Harry and Bensey following his example. “A pleasure, Mrs. Fisherman, Miss Fisherman.”

“My Lord Derebourne, it is such an honor to make your acquaintance,” Mrs. Fisherman gushed. She gave the boys a dismissive glance. “I didn’t know you were married, my lord.”

“I am a widower, madam.”

“Oh, well good. I was just telling my darling Rhonda it was our Christian duty to pay a call and welcome you. In your honor, my lord, we are holding an assembly a week from Saturday. My daughter’s dance card fills up quickly, Lord Derebourne, but I’m certain she will save you a dance.”

Claire cringed at Mrs. Fisherman’s reply to Chase being a widower. By how his eyes turned to ice at the woman’s tactless response, Mrs. Fisherman was not endearing herself to the marquess.

“Please excuse my sons, Mrs. Fisherman,” Chase said. “Their tutor is waiting to start their lessons.”

The relief on the twins’ faces was almost comical. Claire gave them credit for not running from the room.

“Charming boys,” Mrs. Fisherman said. “My dear Rhonda loves children.”

Dear Rhonda had practically disappeared into the sofa. Claire felt great sympathy for the girl.

“Indeed,” Chase said.

He glanced at Claire, a brow slightly raised. She shrugged. Did he realize Mrs. Fisherman had her sights on him as husband material for her daughter? It was going to be interesting to see how he handled the woman.

Mrs. Fisherman apparently caught the look that passed between her and Chase because her eyes narrowed on Claire. “It occurs to me, Lady Derebourne, now the new marquess is in residence, it is highly improper for you to be living here without a chaperone. Have you made arrangements for where you will go? You must know you cannot stay at Hillcrest Abbey, my dear.”

“The marchioness is still in mourning, madam. This is still her home for the time being.”

“It will not do, Lady Derebourne, to live here without a chaperone. It will inconvenience my household, but my daughter and I will come and stay with you. It is the least we can do to protect your reputation.”

The foolish woman apparently chose to ignore the warning in his voice.

“That won’t be necessary. My mother, Lady Kensington, will be arriving soon to act as Lady Derebourne’s chaperone,” he said.

She would? Had he only said that to placate Mrs. Fisherman, or had he made arrangements and not told her? Claire was grateful he had protected her from Mrs. Fisherman’s scheming—and even more so, relieved to know she had a home for at least another month. But, then what?

“How kind of your mother,” Mrs. Fisherman said, the disappointment clear on her face.

Chase stood. “If you will excuse me, I need to check on the boys. It was my pleasure, Mrs. Fisherman, Miss Fisherman.”

He bowed and strode out of the room. Claire smiled sweetly at Mrs. Fisherman.

Chapter Seven

“Did you do anything special this afternoon, Claire?” Chase smothered a grin at her startled expression.

“Ah. Well, I, ah…yes. I took a leisurely ride to the cliffs, my lord, and enjoyed a bit of time by the sea.”

“Did you, now? Was the view worth the ride? Please, Claire, stop lording me.”

Pink stained her cheeks. “Yes, Chase, the view was remarkable.”

Chase almost snorted. He’d trapped her in a brilliant chess move and smugly waited for her to admit defeat. She’d found an escape, however, and he couldn’t resist the one question that would throw her off balance. Someday—at just the right moment—he’d admit he had seen her. That she thought the view remarkable shouldn’t please him so much.

He had sent the boys to bed earlier and now he was alone with her, which he’d sworn not to allow. The woman responsible for scrambling his wits chewed on her bottom lip as she studied the board.

He wished she wouldn’t do that.

“Are you going to make a move in the near future, or do I have time for a snooze?”

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Checkmate.”

“Well, aren’t you the clever one? I was certain I had the game. Well done, Claire.”

Pure pleasure lit her face. “Thank you.”

Had compliments been rare in her life? “Who taught you to play chess?” Her smile faded and he regretted the question.

“My father. Chess was the only game he considered worthy of one’s time. Mama could never grasp it. Papa taught me to play so he would have an opponent.”

“You were obviously a good student.”

She toyed with the Queen, spinning the piece on the board. “The first time I won a game, I was so proud of myself. I thought Papa would be pleased, but he wasn’t. He said arrogance in a woman was not a virtue, and I needed to curb my bluestocking ways if I ever wanted a husband. He never played a game with me again.”

The last was said in a whisper of hurt. Chase had the insane urge to gather her in his arms and comfort her for her father’s stupidity. “I’m sorry, Claire.”

“Why? You had nothing to do with it.”

“No, I didn’t, but every child should have loving and supportive parents, and it doesn’t sound as if you were that fortunate.” He pretended not to notice the tears she blinked away.

“No, I don’t suppose I was. I think it’s why you and your sons fascinate me. I find myself envying the way the three of you tease and laugh together. Other than being pleased that he had his heir in the nursery, Thomas had no interest in Andrew. I don’t think that would have changed much as Andrew grew older. I thought that was the way it was supposed to be. Until you and the twins.”

She was breaking his heart. Had no one in her life seen how beautiful and intelligent she was? Had Derebourne not realized her worth? Apparently not.
You were ten times a fool
, he told the dead Derebourne.

“Can I ask you a question, Chase?”

Was she going to ask for another kiss? Did he want her to? “Yes, although I may choose not to answer.”

“Fair enough. My father taught me curiosity was not attractive in a woman so I have tried not to be curious about your sons, but I am failing miserably. My question is this. Bensey said he used to call you my lord. I realize they were born on the wrong side of the blanket, and I think it is very honorable of you to openly claim them, but why would you make the twins call you my lord?”

There was a flash of disappointment that she hadn’t asked for another kiss. He didn’t mind explaining how he had come to have the twins, but he would have to tell her about the night Teresa died for her to understand how it all came about. But he couldn’t sit here where the bright candles would allow her to see his face when he spoke of his wife.