Page 9 of Waiting for Love

“I am to ascertain if the traps are still there?” Benjamin asked, setting his jaw.

“First, I’m merely supposed to introduce you to Everet. Give the man a week to get rid of them without confronting him. Then go back and check the grounds. If they are still there…”

Benjamin nodded. Olivia let out a slow breath. What was he supposed to do if Everet did not comply? She’d have to say something, either to Benjamin or to Everet. If he was selling badgers, it was likely to help his daughter and his large brood of grandchildren. The man was crotchety, but not mean.

Fergus brought Oatmeal around, and Reg cupped his hands with his fingers interlaced to give her a footstep into the saddle. Then he and Benjamin mounted their own horses, and they all set off.

It was turning into a beautiful morning. She loved Chaumbers in the autumn. The summer heat was gone but winter did not yet threaten. The grasses were browning, going dormant. Wildflowers along the paths had gone to seed, promising a riot of color in the spring. She loved springtime too. And summer. For that matter, she even loved the winter. Chaumbers was so pretty covered in snow.

She hoped whomever she ended up marrying had a country home and intended to spend a good deal of time there. She would be miserable trapped in London. The city was all soot, and rain, and crowds. Of course, she might also be miserable in any country home that was not Chaumbers. There was something unfair about a system that nurtured girls in one environment, made it the center of their world, and then tossed them out of it. Jasper preferred London. He would no doubt spend most of his time there. But he was the earl, and Chaumbers would be his.

For a while, they rode three abreast, trading comments on the scenery. Then the path narrowed, and she and Reg led the way with Benjamin behind. But Reg kept calling to Benjamin over his shoulder, so Olivia slowed to let Benjamin ride beside Reg instead. She thought that with their two dark heads and square shoulders, they appeared more like brothers than Reg and Jasper or Crispin. Of course their faces would dispel that impression at once. While Reg had a toned-down version of Jasper’s Adonis-like features, Benjamin’s face was more…rugged—chisel chinned, with heavy eyebrows and skin that was a bit sun darkened even in October.

They were discussing some of the tenants. Difficulties of various sorts. A dog in the Davis’ henhouse. A dispute over Tilden’s borrowed stud bull. An order of hay that hadn’t been delivered to the Crofts. Nothing as disturbing as Everet and the badgers, just things that had been brought to Jasper’s attention. Reg was passing along direction. And Benjamin was taking direction. It made Olivia feel strange. Like hearing them call each other “mister.”

From the pitch of their voices, they did not find it strange. They sounded comfortable. It was the way Reg was speaking, she thought. Not with Crispin’s joking familiarity or Jasper’s fondness. But not with overbearing lordliness either. He seemed to strike just the right tone.

She supposed she might try to copy Reg, though she wasn’t sure she could carry it off. Reg had not professed his undying love, then wept a torrent when Benjamin did not react with appropriate delight. Her face grew heated, and she was glad she was behind where they would not see. She’d been such a sapskull!

The path broadened into a soggy patch where a stream couldn’t make up its mind as to its course.

Reg slowed, cueing Benjamin to do so also. Olivia dropped a little farther behind so she wouldn’t be spattered by clods of mud kicked up by their mounts. They all picked their way until they reached firmer ground. Reg gestured to the meadow before them. “Why don’t you two have a race to the lake. Let Oatmeal and Goose stretch their legs. I’ll catch up.”

Reg had never been much for racing, but of course he knew his sister and must have supposed she was itching to gallop. She turned to Benjamin. They had raced in the past. He rode well for someone who did not ride often. And he loved horses. She knew that about him, just as she had always understood he would never be in a position to own one.

“Well?”

He grinned at her. “Do you want a head start?”

Her jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious!”

“No?”

Reg laughed. “I’ll give the signal. Are you ready?”

Olivia whirled Oatmeal about. When Reg shouted “Go!” they went.

*

Olivia pulled ahead at the last and, two lengths ahead of Benjamin, crossed the invisible line between two larches that had always marked the end point of Taverston meadow races. Laughing with glee, she slowed as he drew up alongside. He was windblown and red-faced, and she suspected she was the same.

“A head start? Ha!”

“Olivia! You could outride a Blackfoot!”

She blinked and regarded him questioningly. What did that mean? Oh! And he’d called her by her given name. As he used to. A moment later, they were both looking anywhere but at each other. Her heart rate slowed by measures as the horses calmed. Her embarrassment faded and since the flush left his face, she assumed Benjamin’s did too.

“I beg your pardon, my lady,” he murmured. “That was inappropriate.”

She knew better than to suggest that he could call her Olivia. To ease the tension, she tried the taunt her brothers had begun throwing at one another when one performed unexpectedly well at some challenge or other.

“You’ve been practicing.”

He answered ruefully, “I suppose I have.”

He dismounted, patted Goose’s withers, then came to her side and offered his hand. She nodded and moved her leg from the pommel so he could more easily lift her down. He was quick. His hands didn’t linger on her waist, and he took a step back as soon as he released her. His haste drew attention to itself. Even a stableboy would have waited a moment to be sure her feet were firmly planted.

Before the silence between them grew too uncomfortable, he gestured to the nearby stand of trees. “I suppose we might walk over to the lake.” The lake was just beyond the trees. “Iversley mentioned the boathouse could be in need of refurbishing.”