Beauty and the Brooding Lord Page 11

  As she descended the last flight she saw Quinn. He was staring out of the open door, his hands clasped behind his back. Not for the first time she thought how well he looked in country dress, his legs encased in buckskins and glossy top boots. A dark brown frock coat was stretched across his broad shoulders and the light flooding in through the open door brought out a tawny glint in his mane of light brown hair, reminding her of the big cats she had seen at the Exeter Exchange. But those animals had been caged, safely behind bars. Quinn, on the other hand was here, just feet away from her.

  And he is your husband.

  Serena slowed as she reached the last few stairs, trying to understand the welter of emotions flooding through her. She wanted to flee, although she knew not where. At that moment Quinn turned towards her and the world steadied when he met her eyes. She trusted him to take care of her.

  ‘Well, my lord, I am here.’ She summoned up a smile as she crossed the hall.

  ‘Yes.’

  He took the shawl from her and draped it about her shoulders as they made their way out of the house. In the enclosed courtyard the summer sun was hot and bright and Serena stopped, blinking.

  ‘Where are we going, sir, is it far?’

  ‘No. Only to the stables.’

  He pulled her fingers on to his arm and they set off again, not through the gatehouse as she had expected, but via a small enclosed passage opposite, where a solid oak door led to a small footbridge across the moat and directly into the new stable block.

  ‘My grandfather had this entrance added to the house when he rebuilt the stables some fifty years ago. It made it quicker for the servants to summon his carriage.’

  Serena nodded. Her old self would have explored every nook and cranny of her new home as soon as possible. Instead she had allowed Mrs Talbot to show her around Melham Court, going only to those rooms the housekeeper considered it necessary for the lady of the house to visit. Now she felt the first stirrings of curiosity to see more.

  The stables were far more modern than the main house but equally well maintained. Not a weed was to be seen in the yard, where the cobbles were being swept by a couple of young stable hands under the watchful eye of Bourne, the head groom. The boys did not stop their work but Bourne gave a respectful nod in their direction.

  ‘Morning, m’lord. M’lady.’

  Serena acknowledged his greeting, then looked up at her companion.

  ‘I have not been here before,’ she remarked. ‘I should very much like to look around, if I may?’

  ‘Of course, I will show you.’ Quinn turned to Bourne, who was waiting expectantly. ‘We shall be back in, say, ten minutes.’

  ‘Very good, m’lord.’

  Quinn took Serena through the nearest double doors, into the carriage house. From there they progressed through the harness room and on via a feed store to the looseboxes and stalls. There were several men and boys in the stables, grooming the horses, mucking out the stalls or cleaning the carriages. Quinn presented every one of them to Serena as they made their way through the building.

  ‘I am impressed,’ she told him, when they had reached the end of the tour. ‘You appear to know everyone and everything that goes on here.’

  ‘A good master takes an interest in his staff. I look after them and they work hard for me.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I admit I have rarely seen so many of them working at any one time. I suspect they were eager for a glimpse of their new mistress.’

  ‘It was remiss of me not to come before.’

  ‘Nonsense. My parents rarely came to the stables. I doubt my mother even knew the way here.’

  He said no more, but Serena marvelled that he should have grown up to be such a considerate master if his parents were so indifferent. They had reached the loose boxes, in one of which was a powerful black horse.

  ‘My favourite hack, Neptune.’ Quinn introduced him. ‘French-bred. He’s an ugly brute, but strong. He can carry me all morning without tiring.’

  Serena reached up one hand to scratch the long, bony nose. ‘It must be difficult to find a mount that is up to your weight.’

  He grunted. ‘Luckily I don’t aspire to cut a figure in Hyde Park.’

  ‘Nor I.’

  ‘But you do ride?’ he asked her, a slight frown in his eyes. ‘You and Lottie were talking of it at supper the other evening.’

  ‘Why yes, but not in town,’ she replied. ‘That is, I was used to do so when I was living with Molly and Russ, but Henry prefers his carriage and Dorothea does not ride at all. They would not countenance my going out without them, even in the most respectable party.’

  She could not keep the note of regret from her voice and felt slightly aggrieved when she saw that Quinn’s brow had cleared. Perhaps he, like Dorothea, considered riding to be an unladylike activity.

  She said, a little coldly, ‘Thank you for taking the time to show me over your stables, my lord, but perhaps you would like to tell me why you wanted me to accompany you?’

  ‘I should indeed.’ He took her arm. ‘Come along.’

  The sunlight was blinding as they stepped into the yard and Serena was momentarily dazzled, but as her vision cleared she saw that Bourne was walking a dapple-grey horse around the yard.

  ‘There. The mare is what I wanted to show you.’

  ‘She is a beauty,’ said Serena, as Bourne brought the horse closer. ‘Is she a new addition to your stable?’

  ‘My tiger fetched her yesterday. She answers to the name of Crystal. Irish-bred and used to a lady’s saddle.’

  It took a moment for his words to register with Serena.

  ‘You...you mean she is for me?’

  ‘If you want her. Perhaps I should have discussed it with you first, but when Bourne told me yesterday morning that Lord Hackleby was selling off his horses I rode over to Pirton to see if there was anything in his stable suitable for a lady. If I had had more notice you might have come with me, but you had already arranged to call upon the Brooks.’

  The groom brought the mare to a stand before them. Serena slowly put out her hand and ran it along the glossy neck, murmuring quietly to the animal.

  ‘Hackleby bought her for his late wife, who was an enthusiastic rider,’ Quinn told her. ‘He says the mare is very well mannered, if handled properly. He also said she is fast and strong, can go for miles and will jump anything. Since Lady Hackleby died last winter the horse has been exercised by a groom. Clem put her through her paces and thinks she is a little out of condition, but with regular use would soon return to form. We have the lady’s saddle, too, which I hope will fit you well enough until we can have one made for you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Of course, if you would rather choose your own mount, we need not keep her.’

  ‘No, no, she is perfect for me. She sounds as if she has spirit, too, which is just what I like.’ She glanced up at him. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I did not expect anything less of you.’

  She could not resist returning his smile.

  ‘Not that I can take all the credit for it,’ he continued. ‘I wrote to Hambridge some weeks ago, asking him what sort of horse would suit you. His reply was that I should find you something steady. An old animal, perhaps. One that could be relied upon not to bolt with you.’

  ‘A slug, in fact!’ she replied tartly.

  ‘Exactly.’ His lips twitched. ‘However, he also informed me that you had always been quite heedless of your own safety and had regularly flouted his advice regarding which of his horses were suitable for you. From that I gathered that a safe, steady mount was the last thing you would want.’

  Serena’s heart swelled. She knew an impulse to throw her arms about Quinn—well, as far as they would go around him. Such a display would shock the servants and might well give Quinn a disgust of her. Instead she tucked her arm into his.

  ‘How can I ever
thank you, my lord?’

  Quinn nodded to Bourne to take the mare away and turned to escort Serena back to the house.

  ‘By riding out with me as soon as Lady Brook has gone today. That is, if you have a riding habit?’

  ‘I do, somewhere. It will be in one of the trunks we brought from Bruton Street. I am afraid it is not in the latest style.’ She hesitated, then said haltingly, ‘Dorothea did not include a new habit in my wedding trousseau.’

  ‘No doubt she disapproves of ladies riding.’

  Serena chuckled. ‘She does.’

  ‘It is of a piece with her taste in gowns.’ He bent a searching look upon her. ‘Tell me truthfully, my dear, do you like any of the clothes she bought for you?’

  She sobered and looked away. ‘It was a difficult time. Dorothea acted as she thought best.’

  Quinn held back a snort of derision and refrained from giving his opinion of Serena’s sister-in-law.

  He said decisively, ‘I shall ask Lottie to recommend her favourite modistes and we will have them come here to fit you out with more suitable gowns.’

  ‘The ones I have are perfectly suitable, my lord.’

  ‘Aye, for an ageing dowager,’ he retorted, then stopped. ‘They are not the style you would have chosen for yourself, are they?’ he asked again and put his hands on her shoulders, ‘Tell me truthfully, Serena.’

  ‘No.’ She looked away, but he could see the distress in her face. ‘But my judgement is not to be trusted. Not for the world would I want to disgrace you, my lord.’

  Something contracted, hard as iron, around his heart. Without thinking he drew her into his arms. Immediately she stiffened. It was like holding a block of wood, was his first thought, quickly followed by the realisation that it was terror holding her motionless. Carefully he released her, knowing one wrong word and she would run from him. He pulled her hand back on to his arm and continued to walk.

  ‘You could never disgrace me, Serena.’

  He was looking straight ahead, but from the corner of his eye he saw her hand come up and dash away a tear.

  * * *

  When they reached the house, Serena excused herself and went up to her room to divest herself of her shawl and tidy her hair. Her head was still full of Dorothea’s shrill tones, telling her how fortunate she was and how little she deserved it, but deep, deep inside was a faint glimmer of happiness.

  She sat through Lady Brook’s visit with outward calm, all the time wondering if Polly had managed to find her old riding habit. She had not needed it at all this year so perhaps it was gone. That thought pierced the blanket of indifference that was wrapped about Serena and she realised with something of a shock how much she wanted to ride the beautiful dapple-grey Quinn had bought for her. Something bubbled up inside. Something she had not felt for months. Joyful anticipation.

  * * *

  Quinn paced the hall. Lady Brook had left the house twenty minutes ago and Dunnock had informed him that my lady had gone directly upstairs to change. How long would that take her? he wondered. Fashionable ladies were notorious for taking an age over their toilette. Perhaps he had been over-eager in sending word to the stables. Then he heard a soft, melodious voice behind him.

  ‘I trust I have not kept you waiting, my lord.’

  He turned and the breath caught in his throat. Serena had paused, halfway down the stairs, one daintily gloved hand on the rail, the other holding her leather crop and the gathered skirts. A single glance told him that although the riding habit was not new, it was the work of a master. The soft wool jacket fitted snugly, the masculine tailoring and military frogging only serving to accentuate her womanly curves. Beneath her chin was a snowy cravat, tied with a simple knot. Her golden curls were tamed by a matching and very mannish beaver hat with a small brim.

  The ensemble was both fetching and eye-catching. The bold colour suited her, too. It was the colour of young, rain-washed evergreens and it enhanced the creamy tones of her skin. It was the sort of outfit worn by a confident young woman, one who did not give a jot what the world thought of her. The woman Serena had once been. Now he read uncertainty in her brown eyes and smiled to reassure her.

  ‘Not at all—you are in good time,’ he said. ‘I have ordered the horses to be brought to the door and they are not yet here.’

  ‘Oh, good. I would not have had them standing in this sun.’ She sounded relieved and was more forthcoming than he had ever known her. ‘Polly found my habit you see. Fortunately, it still fits, even if it is a little sun-bleached in places. That is what comes of wearing it out of doors in all weathers, I suppose.’

  She chattered away as she descended the last few stairs but Quinn was not attending, distracted by her dainty feet, encased in half-boots of soft kid. Strange, how arousing the glimpse of a shapely ankle could be.

  ‘I hope you do not think it too shabby for our outing, my lord.’

  ‘Hmm?’ Her soft voice caught his attention. She was regarding him anxiously and he profoundly hoped his face gave no indication of his wandering thoughts. He cleared his throat. ‘No, no, you look quite delightful,’ he told her, further alarming himself with such a candid reply. He swung round towards the open door, his ears picking up the sound of hooves on the gravel. ‘Shall we go?’

  * * *

  Serena’s cheeks flamed. Silently she accompanied Quinn out to the drive, where Bourne was waiting with the dapple-grey and Quinn’s diminutive tiger was holding on to Neptune. At the sight of his master, the powerful black horse threw up his head, almost lifting Clem from his feet and causing that worthy to remonstrate vociferously, chastising the animal in colourful language that made Serena stifle a giggle. It dispelled much of the awkwardness she had felt at Quinn’s unexpected compliment.

  ‘That’s enough, Clem,’ barked Quinn, but there was no mistaking the quiver of laughter in his voice. ‘You had best walk Neptune around again while I attend to my lady.’

  Serena looked at the mare and felt a ripple of excitement. This was no docile hack, but a large, spirited animal that would need all her skill to master. The meekness and deference she considered so necessary in her role as Quinn’s wife had no place here.

  With Bourne holding the mare’s head, Quinn threw Serena up into the saddle and remained close until she was securely seated. She did her best to ignore the strong hands that brushed her skirts as he checked the girth and the stirrup, but she felt strangely bereft when he pronounced himself satisfied and stepped away. She buried the thought. She must give her attention to controlling the mare.

  ‘Thank you, my lord.’ She gathered up the reins and nodded to the groom. ‘You may release her now, Bourne, I have her.’

  ‘Are you sure, my lady? She’s very fresh. And ’tis a while since she’s had a lady on ’er back.’

  ‘And it is a while since I have been on a horse,’ replied Serena, smiling. ‘We shall soon grow accustomed to one another. Let her go.’

  Free of the groom’s hand on her halter, the mare threw up her head, but Serena was ready. She turned the animal, murmuring soothingly as Crystal pranced and sidled.

  ‘There,’ she said, finally coming to a stand again and running one hand along the glossy neck, ‘We understand one another already, do we not?’ Quinn was still standing, watching her. She read the approval in his face and her confidence grew even more. ‘Well, my lord, will you mount up now? I should like to see just what this lady can do.’

  The sound of hooves on the cobbles echoed around the courtyard as Quinn led the way out through the arch. They crossed the bridge and turned on to the path leading into the park. The lad waiting to open the gate for them gave a cheeky grin as he tugged his forelock and Serena could not but smile at him. The day was bright, the sun was warm on her back and suddenly, suddenly it was good to be alive. How long had it been since she felt like this?

  ‘Well,’ said Quinn. ‘Shall we p
ut your mare through her paces?’

  She turned her smiling face towards him. ‘By all means, my lord!’

  * * *

  Quinn touched his heels to Neptune’s sides, marvelling at the change in his wife. Gone was the anxious, hesitant creature who had descended the stairs in her faded habit. Serena on horseback positively glowed with life and assurance. They cantered together through the park, heading for the dense woods that covered the rising ground in the distance. Quinn kept a steady pace, frequently glancing across at his companion. She looked completely at her ease. Very much like her name, he thought. Serene.

  He drew rein, bringing Neptune to a walk. ‘You ride very well. Is the saddle comfortable for you?’

  ‘Perfectly, thank you, my lord.’ She looked about her. ‘From the height of the gate and the walls, I suppose this was once a deer park.’

  ‘Yes, we still have red and fallow deer but they prefer the higher ground to the north. In Queen Elizabeth’s time the park was double the size, but some of the land was sold off about a century ago and it was remodelled. That was when the avenues of beech, sycamore and lime were planted. They make good rides.’ He pointed. ‘That avenue leads to an ancient viewing tower, where visitors to Melham could watch the hunt. You can just see the top of it.’

  She followed his outstretched finger with a steady, considering stare and he said, ‘We could gallop there, if you wish.’

  The look she threw at him was full of laughter and mischief. ‘You have read my mind, my lord!’

  She touched her heel to the mare’s flank and set off, her skirts billowing around her.

  ‘Whoa, Neptune.’ He held the black in check, enjoying the view of Serena galloping away along the wide avenue. ‘By God, she is a bruising rider.’

  It needed no more than a word from Quinn for Neptune to leap forward in pursuit. For all his horse’s strength, he wondered briefly if he had allowed Serena too much of a start. However, by the time they crested the rising ground Neptune had drawn level and they raced neck and neck towards the stone tower. It reared up before them, massive as a cliff face.