Page 51 of The Earl’s Inconvenient Nemesis

“She is a good horse,” Alice replied.

“Would you like to race?” she suggested impulsively to both men.

“Race?” repeated Sir Marcus.

“Yes, the first rider to that yew tree at the top of the hill wins!”

“I am not sure . . . ” began Sir Marcus, but he was interrupted by Anthony saying, “Ready, steady, go!” as he rode past them and urged his horse into a gallop.

“Cheat!” cried out Alice and raced after him. After being cooped up inside yesterday she was not going to miss out on the exhilaration of chasing him, either for her or her horse, who she was beginning to suspect was every bit as competitive as she was.

The wind bit into her face as she leant forwards as far as she could in the saddle, exhilarated at the burst of speed.

Anthony won, reaching the tree triumphantly a second or two before Alice.

“If you had played fairly, Rosalind and I would have beaten you!”

“I was merely using your own previous tactics, and it was you that suggested the race,” said Anthony with a grin. “Better luck next time.”

Alice could not help throwing back her head in laughter as a response. The rest of the riders caught up with them. Sir Marcus did not look very pleased. He took in the scene and quickly turned away to begin a conversation with the lady wearing Alice’s scarf, whose cheeks reddened with pleasure at his attention.

“That was hardly the behaviour of a lady in front of her potential future husband,” hissed Henry when he reached Alice, indicating to Sir Marcus. “What were you thinking?”

Alice snapped back to reality, realising the foolishness of her actions. After all her work to fit in and behave properly, she had given in to her stupid impulse. But it was not as though they were being presented to the Royal family or something! They were all just out for a relaxing ride.

“It was my fault,” said Anthony immediately.

“I do not doubt it, but Alice should know better,” Henry replied grumpily.

“If a man cannot handle a woman who enjoys the occasional gallop, he has no business offering for her hand,” retorted Anthony, earning him a scowl from Henry, and meaning Alice had to turn away until she could trust herself to pull a straight face.

As much as Alice would have loved to have raced more, part of her knew her brother was right. That was not proper behaviour for the time and place. She chastised herself before remembering what Anthony had said and smiling. She caught Sir Marcus glancing at her and rearranged her countenance and resolved to behave herself for the rest of the ride. Her actions clearly had not gone down well with her suitor and she did not want to miss her chance to help her family. She had to remember that was her goal.

Chapter Twenty-One

Once they returned to the house, all anyone could talk about was the planned dancing that evening. A local pianist had been engaged to provide music so that none of the ladies would feel obliged to play and thereby miss the opportunity to dance. Punch had been requested from the kitchen.

All the ladies retired to their rooms early to prepare, for it had been decided they would dress as though attending one of the most prestigious events of the Season, such as Queen Charlotte’s Ball. Alice was exceedingly grateful that Aunt Jane had insisted she bring one of her newest ballgowns. The silk gown in a delicate shade of rose pink, with its high empire waist and delicate ivory lace trim along the neckline and short puffed sleeves, was the most elegant thing she owned. Beth had dressed her hair with pearls and tiny white flowers, and a simple but beautiful diamond necklace, borrowed once again from her aunt, gleamed at her throat.

She allowed Beth to fuss over her appearance as much as she wished. This evening felt important. If she could look and behave correctly, she might yet secure her future. She would not repeat the mistake she had made during the ride. Sir Marcus appeared rather traditional in his views on how a lady should conduct herself, and she would be mindful of that. She would not think about how tedious it would be to spend her life with a man who never wished to race across the fields on horseback.

She made sure to descend the stairs a little late, as Aunt Jane had advised, in order to make a proper entrance. As she stepped into the drawing room where everyone had gathered, her gaze immediately fell upon Anthony. He was deep in conversation with her brother, but the moment their eyes met, he stopped speaking. The slight widening of his eyes and the small nod he gave her told Alice that he approved of the effort that had been made on her behalf.

She began to walk towards him, but was intercepted by Sir Marcus, who pressed a glass of punch into her hand and asked her opinion on a large painting at the far end of the room. It was a rather dull naval battle scene - the very sort of thing Anthony’s late father would have chosen purely for its size and grandeur. She had paid it little attention before. Still, it appeared she had been forgiven for her earlier lapse during the ride, for which she was grateful, and so she conversed as pleasantly as she could manage.

They ate a light dinner, supper would be served later to keep up the dancers’ energy, then made their way into the ballroom. It was the first time Alice had seen it. She imagined the servants had worked tirelessly, for Anthony had mentioned it was rarely used and the furniture was usually kept under holland covers.

They had transformed the space beautifully. Though smaller than many London ballrooms, it felt far more welcoming and intimate. The parquet floor gleamed under the light of several sparkling chandeliers, and the pale blue walls adorned with gilt mirrors reflected the candlelight. Happy chatter filled the room as the guests filed in. A grand piano stood proudly in one corner, its mahogany surface polished to a mirror shine. Alice was no great pianist, but she could not help admiring the instrument and hoped she might have the chance to try it.

Country dancing was the order of the evening. Ladies and gentlemen lined up opposite one another, and the dancing commenced. Thankfully, several other dancers were as uncertain of the steps as Alice, so she did not feel overly embarrassed when she made the occasional mistake. It was far more enjoyable than dancing in the crowded, stuffy London ballrooms. Here, partners changed frequently with no need for dance cards. The gentlemen took turns sitting out as they slightly outnumbered the ladies, chatting with the chaperones who sat at tables near the refreshments.

There was little time for conversation while dancing, as everyone moved so quickly, but Alice remained acutely aware of Anthony’s presence.

When they paused between sets, Sir Marcus was immediately at her side, claiming her as his partner once more. Yet it was Anthony who watched her with a hard expression. She could feel the weight of his stare, which left her dizzy and struggling to concentrate on conversation. She was grateful when the music began again.

The dances were energetic and chaotic, and Alice soon grew hot and desperate for fresh air.

“Would you care to step outside with me to cool down?” Sir Marcus asked, sensing her discomfort. Anthony stood just behind him, and Alice was almost certain he had overheard the suggestion, judging by the thunderous look on his face. His behaviour was becoming most distracting, and he was doing a dreadful job of helping her find a husband. There was clearly something he disliked about Sir Marcus or the way he was courting her, but unless he explained himself, there was little she could do.