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“Crockett told me that her grace won’t keep a trainer. Do you know why?”
She reached into a pocket. “Grandmama has definite opinions about the training of horses, no sweating, no stoving. Men are often surprised that … a woman has any knowledge of the field.”
“Yet, her horses no longer race in spite of her notable past success.”
Lady Cassandra stopped abruptly on the threshold. “You must have had quite a conversation with the Crocketts.”
“They are grateful to Her Grace, and who better than those who know her ways to help me understand her.”
“Crockett never suggested that you offer Grandmama a trainer.”
“He did not. It happens that I know an unusual one.”
“Remind me again why you are so keen to lease Verwood.”
“Doesn’t everyone who makes a fortune, want a house?” He spoke lightly.
She thrust her key in the lock, and pushed the door open. He followed her in, noting the cold, and the faint odors of damp and dust. A small entry led to a good-sized parlor, cold and empty of color, with a circle of shrouded furnishings in front of a substantial stone fireplace. The house had none of the grandeur of Verwood, and he guessed the move would be a blow to the ladies’ pride. Their debts must be pressing.
“A good blaze will help this room,” he said. He pulled the holland cover off a chair, and under the rustling of the cloth, she murmured something he didn’t quite catch. He uncovered another chair.
“Stop.” She sneezed, and he handed her his handkerchief. “You are getting ahead of yourself,” she said. “Even if this house can be made livable, to get your lease you have to find your way into Grandmama’s good graces first.”
“You don’t think offering her a trainer will help?”
“It might, but perhaps there’s something else about you that would…”
“Overcome the taint of trade in iron and glass? I assure you I have been welcome this winter in all the loftiest houses in Mayfair.”
“Have you?” Her dark brows went up. “Somehow I don’t think unbridled conceit will be a winning strategy with Grandmama.”
Raven choked. “Unbridled conceit?”
“Apparently, you have acquired boundless confidence along with your fortune. Is that how you earned your knighthood?”
“I earned…”
She sneezed again, and Raven took hold of her elbow and led her through the house and out a door in the kitchen into a small courtyard. She leaned against a low stone wall overlooking a field, and sneezed a few more times. He waited.
“Speaking of conceit…” he began. “I wager there’s plenty of conceit in a household that can’t afford coal or servants or new gowns for a lady, but that pretends to be above leasing a portion of the property to a respectable man of means.”
Her eyes flashed up at him. She was taller than Amabel, and fearless and frank in her bearing with no illusion of feminine frailty, and, he suspected, she was about to let him have it. Then another sneeze took her.
“Oh bother,” she said, recovering. “It’s no use getting angry. The truth is that leasing Verwood is the practical solution to our family’s dilemma. It is just that the littleness of a drawing room only twenty feet across is a strong a reminder of our circumstances.”
“Will her grace care so very much about the house if the stables prosper?”
“No,” she admitted with a laugh. “You’re right. She will hardly spend any time here. But first we have to reconcile Grandmama to you as a tenant.”
Raven liked that we. It meant she was going to be practical. But he didn’t understand the problem exactly. “My money’s not suitable for the ladies of Verwood?”
“Your money’s fine. It’s you. You aren’t what we…” She waved a hand over his person. Even without a valet Raven had dressed himself to exacting London standards, so he couldn’t think what caused her to object to him.
“What?”
“Expected.” She blew out a sigh. “The tenant we imagined was … old, quiet, settled … married, content to drive a gig about the lanes or shoot a few pheasants in season. You’ll be noticed.”
“You didn’t tell Trimley that you required any of these qualities in a tenant.”
