Page 17 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
‘What? Oh, yes. I beg your pardon.’
She stepped inside.
Perhaps she would accept the invitation after all.
Was he mad? Assailed with the sort of doubt he hadn’t experienced since he was at school, Xavier stood in the foyer of the small manor house he owned halfway between Mayfair and Hampton Court. A strategically placed home by way of one of his ancestors to be at the ready for any royal command. It was one of many estates owned by the duchy, and it was here he trained his racehorses because of its closeness to Ascot.
What the devil was he doing? Here he was, supposedly pursuing this Season’s crop of eligible debutantes, girls who would accept a proposal in a heartbeat, andnow for some reason inviting a most unsuitable woman to ride out at one of his estates.
Be honest.
He had always been honest with himself—why change now? Very well. He would admit that the widow fascinated him far more than the debutantes. At least so far. Fascinated, but not in a good way. She caused him to want to do things that under normal circumstances he would reject without a moment’s thought as being ridiculous. Foolish. Even reckless.
He was never reckless.
Watching her wild gallop along Rotten Row the other day had made him want to gallop alongside her, to feel the wind in his face, to feel—free. She looked like she was enjoying herself, despite her obvious difficulty controlling her ungainly animal.
He tried to recall the last time he had enjoyed a good gallop for the pure joy of it. One exercised one’s horse and one’s self when in town. It was a duty, not a pleasure. It was done with the intention of meeting like-minded men and, more often than not, he had used much of the time discussing parliamentary business, not riding.
There was nothing enjoyable about it.
He preferred another form of exercise to keep his body fit. And not only that, sparring at the gymnasium allowed him to let off steam. Something a man with his responsibilities needed from time to time. And it was better than letting his temper getthe better of him and engaging in fisticuffs with his peers when they angered him.
He’d discovered that at school when he’d been about fifteen. He’d fought a couple of boys who had been bullying a weaker lad. He’d stepped in and fought them. And been beaten badly. But in the aftermath, some of the anger and confusion he’d been feeling about his father’s death had faded beneath the pain of his bruises.
It had been a welcome relief.
The master who had separated them had suggested that if Xavier wanted to fight, he should take up boxing. And so he had.
Perhaps the Countess had been similarly afflicted, that day in Hyde Park. Maybe she too needed a release for anger or frustration. Nevertheless, it had been his duty to put a stop to the Countess’s hoydenish behaviour before she ruined her reputation or suffered a terrible accident. Hadn’t it?
Of course it had. It was the duty of any gentleman to protect the life and reputation of any lady. Even ifshedid not seem to give it a second’s thought.
That was the reason he had invited her here today, was it not? To allow her to enjoy a day of riding, without fear of censure.
Which she seemed to invite wherever she went.
Lady Cowper had whispered just before she introduced him to the Countess, that she had been seen shopping in Bond Street after midday with only a maid to carry her parcels.
Shocking! It was time someone took the lady in hand or she would be utterly ruined in the eyes of Society.
Her aunt should know better, Lady Cowper had said.
Xavier had the feeling that the aunt had little influence over the headstrong young woman.
Someone needed to explain the rules to her. In an avuncular manner, of course. Kindly but firmly, the way his Uncle Tom had explained everything to him.
This was why he had decided that an invitation to Woodburn House would be the perfect opportunity to speak privately, with only her and her aunt present.
Though why he had decided he should be the one to impart the rules, he wasn’t quite certain, even if it had seemed to be a good idea at the time.
Fortunately, the day he had chosen had turned out to be a bright spring day, perfect for what he had planned.
He loved this house. He rarely shared it with anyone. It was one of the few places he really felt comfortable. Perhaps because it was one of the last places he recalled his real mother and father spending time together, and the memory was a happy one.
For some odd reason, he wanted the Countess to like it.
His stable master had arranged for two ladies’ mounts to be ready at the appointed time, and his housekeeper would provide a collation fit for a queen after their expedition.
