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The five of them walked out to the stables, where a groom had saddled horses for them, and soon they were trotting along a trail, with Peter in the lead. Shortly, they broke out into open fields and were able to canter.
“No jumping of fences, anybody,” Arrington called out. “I’m not having anyone’s broken neck on my conscience,” she said to Stone, who was riding alongside her, feeling more and more comfortable on his mount.
“Are my riding pants tight enough?” he asked Arrington.
“Oh, I already checked them out,” she replied, laughing. “They’re perfect, and so is your ass.”
They rode for most of the chilly morning. Virginia was nowhere near as cold as New York, but it was nippy. Arrington gave them a tour of Champion Racing Farms, and they stopped at the big stable, met the horses, and watched them work out on the track.
“That big gelding out front is going to win the Derby for us this year,” Arrington said. “His name is Valentino.”
They were back at the house in time for lunch, which they had at a long table in the big kitchen, with another fire going.
After lunch, Arrington excused herself. “I have a party to get ready for,” she said to her guests. “Everyone’s coming at six.”
“May I help?” Margaret Patrick asked.
“Are you any good with flowers?” Arrington asked. “The florist’s truck will be here any minute.”
“That is my metier,” Margaret replied, and she followed Arrington from the room. Hattie tagged along, too, and so did Bill Eggers’s wife.
Somes appeared. “Mrs. Barrington won’t allow cigars in the house,” he said, “but we do have some port.”
“By all means,” Stone said, and the decanter was brought and passed to the left around the table. Ben and Peter were allowed a dram.
“So, Stone,” Bill Eggers said, “are you going to leave the law and become a Virginia gentleman?”
Stone laughed. “I am unqualified for that role, by upbringing, education, and inclination.”
“Well, you certainly have the property for it,” Mike Freeman said.
“Yes, and I have the feeling I’m going to have a hard time keeping Arrington in New York for more than a few days at a time, especially when spring comes.”
“That could be a good thing for a marriage,” Eggers said. “My wife spends much of the summer in the Hamptons, and I go out on weekends. That way, she maintains her tan, and I get some work done.”
“I may take some time off this summer,” Stone said, “to take Arrington and Peter up to Maine.”
“Oh, yeah,” Peter said. “And you’re going to teach me to sail.”
“I am indeed. Ben, you and your father are invited, too.”
“You’re not getting me in a boat,” Dino said.
“You never know, Dino,” Stone replied. “You might even like it.”
After lunch, the men drifted off to their rooms, and Stone had a look around the house, where the women were arranging huge quantities of flowers in crystal vases all over the ground floor. Some musicians arrived-a string quartet, it seemed-and set up in the main hallway, next to a Steinway grand.
Stone wandered upstairs, undressed, and stretched out for a nap. The riding had been tiring, and he had a sore ass. He stirred a little when Arrington came upstairs and crooked a finger at her.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “I’m going to take a very long bath and then take a very long time to get dressed. It’s four o?
?clock, and I’m not sure I can get it all done by six.” She vanished into her dressing room.
Stone lay on his back and gazed drowsily at the ceiling. He had no feeling of ownership of this place-not even a feeling of Arrington’s ownership. Instead, it felt as if they had checked, en masse, into a very luxurious country inn. He dozed.
He was awakened an hour later by the string quartet, the sound making its way through the thick door. He struggled out of bed, showered and shaved, and got into his tuxedo. When he came out Arrington was sitting at her dressing table in her bra and panties, doing something to her hair. He exposed the nape of her neck and kissed her there.
“You know what that does to me,” she said. “If you aren’t careful, I’ll have to start all over.”
