When the two men had retrieved their horses and vaulted into the saddle, Richard said. “That went better than I expected.”
“I didn’t think he’d let me shave him.”
“Nor I. I only hope we won’t have to fight the butler every time we come to call.”
George chucked. “I think even Greenfield knows that there’s no denying the Marquis of Evans when he wants something.”
“We shall see. Jon was always the most stubborn of our band of brothers.”
Chapter 2
Seventeen-year-old Lady Harriet Davies wasenjoying the summer in Bath with her grandmother, Marian, Lady Dalling, and mother, Eleanor, Lady Collin. With her older sister Mercy recently married to the Duke of Wiltshire, she was happy to get out of London for the hottest part of the year. There were too many reminders of enjoying rides in Hyde Park and eating ices at Gunter’s with her beloved sister, and it made her sad to think she had no idea when she’d even see Mercy again. It was time to focus on her future or at least the summer.
Bath was a beautiful seaside resort, and it was her first visit to the town. She loved everything about it, now bustling with many of London’s elite. She was happy her grandmother’s estate was comfortably outside of town, where she could enjoy a bit more freedom from Society’s strict rules governing a young lady’s every move.
She knew her mother despaired of her wild ways, but Harriet made sure she never carried anything too far. As the daughter of the late earl and sister to a duchess, her behavior would be scrutinized no matter where she was, and she knew it. She’d promised her mother that she’d work hard to ensure her actions were more aligned with what was expected of a young lady of quality, although there was no way she’d give up her love of books, especially the travel ones and her favorite astronomy books. Her mind filled with wonder when, each evening after dinner, she’d go outside and look at the night sky. The stars were so bright in the country, and she loved it.
Did they appear the same all over the world?
She longed to see the exotic places—Italy, Greece, and Egypt—that she’d read about. She doubted she’d ever get to visit them unless she married a man who loved to travel. However, she didn’t want a husband. She wanted to experience life and not settle for a sedate life as a wife and mother. She had nothing against children, but there was too much to see in the world to concede her dreams without fighting for what she wanted. However, she’d promised her mother that she’d try her best to curb her tongue, especially during visiting hours and ton events.
After breaking her fast with her grandmother and mother, Harriet excused herself from the table. “Mama, I’m going for a walk. It’s such a beautiful day outside.”
Eleanor nodded. “Don’t wander too far, my darling.”
“I won’t,” Harriet said, slipping out the French doors to the garden and meadow beyond.
She walked past the manicured garden into the nearest field, inhaling the aroma of the abundant wildflowers. Her grandmother’s estate was stunning, and she was ever so glad that her mother had agreed to accompany Gran to Bath. Harriet loved the ocean, and she also loved walking in the meadow.
After walking for half an hour, she spun around in a circle with her arms raised, screaming into the breeze. She felt so free—free from Society’s strict rules governing every aspect of her behavior, free from her mother’s expectations, and free to scream into the wind if she so desired. She railed against Society’s restrictions and, before she knew it, began to laugh at how powerless her objections were. Nothing would ever change the ton. She laughed so hard she fell to the ground, rolling around on the soft mound of flowers. “I love it here.”
She gazed at the wispy clouds floating across the blue sky. The warm June sun was delightful, especially since London weather was often cool and rainy when it wasn’t stifling hot. She didn’twant to leave here. While she lay amongst the flowers, the ground started to rumble.
What was happening?
She jumped up, looking around to see what had caused such rumblings. Against the backdrop of the blazing sun, she saw a huge black stallion barreling toward her with what looked like an avenging angel atop its back.
She froze at the magnificent sight.
Her sudden appearance startled the stallion, who reared up. It was only because of the expertise of the rider that saved him from being thrown to the ground. When he got the horse under control, he jumped off and stalked toward her.
Not an avenging angel after all, but a tall, lean man with golden-brown hair that floated around his shoulders.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“I was enjoying a pleasant walk in the meadow until you came charging by,” Harriet said, her hands on her hips at his impertinent inquiry. Who did he think he was, addressing her like that?
“You were nearly trampled! Are you simple, or do you always lie down in fields where no one can see you?”
“You, sir, are no gentleman. Perhaps if you stopped yelling and enjoyed the beauty of the flowers instead of galloping past everything, you’d understand the appeal,” she said, looking him up and down and noticing his fine form.
He was nearly upon her, but she stood her ground, a fierce scowl on her face. Noticing an angry-looking scar from temple to jaw that disfigured one side of his face, she thought he must have received it in the war, but even such a horrific injury was no excuse for such bad manners.
He was standing close now, his face a mottled red.
“Why are you so angry?”
“You’re on my property. I demand you leave and not return!”
