Page 46 of A Gifted Earl

Chapter Fifteen

Morgan stayed with Lady Merringbar for the short while she spent stroking the neck of the mare, then, once a groom came to deal with the horse, led her out at the other end of the building, and across the square back towards the house. When they rounded the hedge, and she could see the house before her, he begged her pardon, and left her to walk the last part herself. He did not know why, but he felt uncomfortable leaving Lady Venetia in the stables, and instinct told him to go back.

He turned, and hurried across the gravelled area, and back to the main stables entry, his feet crunching on the pebbles as he went, the sound distinct in the crisp morning air. Would she think him foolish for this? Probably, for she was of an independent nature, especially when it came to horses, yet he could not risk any harm coming to her.

And as he thought that, he realised just how much he cared for her. Seeing her again, with the break in time since they had been in London, had made it very obvious to him. With a wry twist of his lips, he acknowledged that thought, and the problem which came with it – how might he tell her that he cared? And what if she did not care for him in return?

He would deal with that challenge when he came to it. He tapped the stables door as he went through into the dimness of the space, momentarily half blind after the brighter light outside.

At the end of the long row with stalls either side, he thought he saw a movement – but with the half blindness of having just stepped inside, her could not be sure – it was probably one of the grooms going about their work.

Whistling softly to himself, he continued down towards Chamberlain’s stall.

*****

There was movement beside her too, and as she swallowed her scream, frozen for a moment from the shock of things, a voice came very softly from that direction.

“I say, old boy, I thought you said she was a willing piece – what this then?”

The hand around her waist tightened, squeezing her so hard that she couldn’t breathe for long moments, then a voice came beside her ear. A voice she knew.

“Oh, she puts on a great show of it, but it’s just show – with that scar she’s thoroughly ruined, and she’ll take what she’s offered, because she has no other options.”

With that, he spun her around, and removed his hand from her mouth, only to replace it with his lips. She nearly gagged, for he tasted of brandy, even this early in the day. It was Jasper, of course – she should have known that he would not leave her alone – and this time, he had brought company.

There was no possible way that she could fight off two of them at once. Still she squirmed in Jasper’s grasp. The other man spoke again, even softer, his voice full of doubt.

“That doesn’t exactly look willing to me…”

At that moment, there was a sound – the crunching of feet on gravel.

Venetia stilled, even as Jasper’s mouth left hers – should she scream? But if she did, and was found like this… she might as easily be forced to marry Jasper, as be saved from him. She waited to see what he would do. The footsteps got closer.

The other man reached out and shook Jasper’s shoulder.

“Someone’s coming. I’m away, I’ll have no part of this.”

He slipped out of the stall, and Jasper met her eyes, then swore under his breath.

“You damned slattern, I’ll have you yet. But this, just now – this never happened. Tell no one, or I will make sure that your reputation is as ruined as your face, be assured of it.”

Then he was gone, slipping out of the stall, and hurrying along to the other end of the building on near silent feet.

Venetia took a staggering step, and wrapped her arms around Chamberlain’s neck, allowing the horse to support her for the few moments until the shaking eased, and her knees felt capable of holding her again. The gelding turned his head, whuffled at her fingers, then went back to eating.

The footsteps which had put Jasper and his friend to flight had taken the last few steps on gravel, and then continued on the brick of the stable corridor. Now, they stopped just outside Chamberlain’s stall. Venetia drew in a very deep breath, and released the horse, hoping that it did not look as if she had been depending on him to stay upright, then turned, just as the stall door opened.

Lord Templewick stood there. Oh Lord! What did she look like? Was her hair in disarray? Her hat was most certainly askew. He met her eyes, his face concerned, and she had the dreadful feeling that he knew that something was wrong.

“Lady Venetia? Is all well? I came to check, as it had been some time.”

She swallowed. She could not tell him what had happened – Jasper’s threat still echoed in her mind – she could not risk utter ruin.

“All is well, although Chamberlain has no respect for a ladies hat, or her hair – he found it necessary to ascertain whether they were edible, and took some persuading of the fact that hay was a better feed for a horse. But thank you for your concern.”

At that moment, a groom hurried up to them.

“I’m sorry, my Lord, my Lady, I would have been here sooner, but that new stallion is a little fractious.” He took in the rubbed down horse, and the saddle and bridle neatly set on the stable door, and bowed. “There was no need to be doing my job for me, but I’m grateful.”