Page 18 of Miss Devon’s Choice

The humor in their expressions, the easiness with which they spoke to one another, was evidence of friendship and kinship both. These men genuinely liked one another, and here in Christian’s presence they spoke almost as if to include him in their joviality.

“Ajax has been successfully bred a few times,” he said, trying to maintain a tone more suitable to business. “He’s an excellent hunter.”

“We may have to try him out while you’re here.” The earl gestured toward a stand of trees. “I have more birds than I know what to do with. Do you like hunting, Easton?”

It wasn’t his favorite sport, but Christian acknowledged he enjoyed it, feeling capable enough that he would participate.

“Excellent. We shall have to attend to that while you are here.” The earl brought his horse around, moving at a faster clip than warranted. “Why not have a race? From here to the pasture north of the stables. King Lud is well suited to a gallop if you are, Easton.”

Flying through grassy meadows on the back of a fine horse? Christian nearly smiled as he answered. “I would enjoy trying us both.”

“Neither of your horses is as fine as my beauty.” Gilbert bent to give his mare a pat along her well-muscled neck. “Ready?”

They lined their horses up and Christian’s body tensed, his legs gripping his horse. King Lud danced beneath him, sensing the building excitement, perhaps even understanding what they meant to do.

“Go!” The earl’s shout launched them forward, each man bent low over their animal, shouting and urging the magnificent horses to top speed. Down the hill and through the long grasses they went, hooves thudding against the ground.

There was nothing but the horse and Christian, no sounds other than the animal’s hooves and breath, and Christian’s heartbeat in his ears. For several blissful minutes, he could forget about everything else and enjoy the rush of wind around him and the blur of the ground beneath. The earl fell behind, but Gilbert stayed in the lead, his small mare surprisingly agile and swift.

When they came to the pasture, Gilbert went for the fence separating it from the stable yard, and Christian pursued until Gilbert pulled up, ending the race. Christian eased his mount’s pace. The earl joined them seconds later. Christian waited for posturing, gloating, or excuses, from the other men. Instead, they started laughing.

“I must learn not to race you when you’re on one of your own horses,” the earl said, his grin stretching across his face.

“My expertise is one of the reasons you agreed to patronize my stables.” Gilbert laughed and allowed his mare to prance beneath him, the two moving as one.

“Well done, both of you,” the earl said, tipping his hat first to Gilbert and then to Christian.

Christian allowed himself a smile. There was nothing like the feeling of riding at such speeds. The exercise cheered him more than anything had since he’d learned of his engagement to Miss Devon. The open enjoyment of the other two men, instead of posturing, was refreshing. He couldn’t doubt it was genuine.

Ajax barked, bounding along behind them. His tongue lolled out as he panted, his lips parted in what could only be described as a smile. The exercise had been good for everyone, it seemed.

They walked the horses around the fence, the earl and Gilbert talking again. This time Christian rode beside them, saying nothing but included in their banter when they’d shoot a knowing glance or smile his way. His defenses relaxed, though they didn’t entirely lower. They had nothing to gain by befriending him, yet they maintained their open conversation in his presence.

He couldn’t recall ever meeting such amicable gentlemen before. How long would their behavior toward him remain such?

Chapter Seven

“You will give the viscount more of your time today,” Aunt Jacqueline stated the moment Rebecca sat down next to her. They were in Virginia’s morning room, waiting for the other female members of the party to join them. “Last evening it was indecent, the way you ignored him after your initial greeting.”

He ignored me just as indecently. Rebecca outwardly maintained a contrite expression. “Yes, Aunt.”

Virginia entered the room, her one-year-old daughter cradled against her shoulder. “Mother, would you like to hold Emma?” she asked, her voice ringing with its usual good cheer.

“I would not,” Aunt Jacqueline said stiffly. One would think she’d been asked to hold a toad rather than her own granddaughter.

“I would like to,” Rebecca said quickly, holding her hands out for the baby.

Aunt Jacqueline sniffed. “Babies belong in nurseries. With their nurses.”

With an amused smile, Virginia handed her burbling daughter to Rebecca. “Perhaps that is true for some babies, but I find I am much easier when mine accompany me. Besides, Emma is a little lady.” She sat on the couch next to Rebecca, within easy reaching distance, but folded her hands in her lap.

Rebecca, though she had almost no experience with children of Emma’s age, was nevertheless fascinated by them. Babies struck her as rather beautiful and charming. Why were people forever hiding them away in nurseries?

Emma didn’t mind being given to a stranger. She at once went to playing with the chain around Rebecca’s neck, her tiny fingers lifting and then releasing the gold links while her tiny face screwed up in concentration. Her fine curls were as light as her mother’s, but she had her father’s gray-tinted eyes.

“When will she be old enough to walk?” Rebecca asked, watching the baby’s feet wriggle beneath the fabric of her gown.

“Baby Emma has started pulling herself to her feet this week,” Virginia went on, a note of motherly pride in her voice. “That is a very big sign she’s ready.”