Page 22 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
‘I doubt you would find an owner willing to hire a woman.’
She made a face that showed what she thought of such owners.
He wanted to laugh. The urge shocked him more than her idea of becoming a jockey. He quelled his amusement. ‘We weren’t racing, you know.’
‘I know,’ she said airily. ‘You would have beaten me easily, but this little lady was champing at the bit to go faster. Do you race her?’
‘Not any more. She earned her retirement at Newmarket a few years ago and has had three really nicefoals since then, of whom I expect great things. The latest is a yearling. If you want to see him.’
‘Oh, I would love to.’
Her interest in what was not just a hobby for him, but a life’s work in the making, pleased him. Of course, it was likely all a sham. Lots of people feigned interest in him to curry favour because he was a duke.
And if he thought she wasn’t one of those, he was likely acting like an idiot.
‘Then we shall.’
They rode back to those waiting by the gate. The Countess, once dismounted, took a few minutes to see that her horse was comfortable and to pet it before the grooms took both mounts in charge and led them back to the stables for a good rub down.
‘The colts and fillies are in the lower meadow this week. I hope you don’t mind a bit of a walk.’ He guided the Countess in the opposite direction to the house. He hadn’t planned for this, but he was pleased to see that the housekeeper fell in behind them. While it wasn’t an ideal arrangement—her aunt would have been the more appropriate chaperone—it did protect him from being accused of anything untoward.
‘Not at all. Having been cooped up in London these past few weeks, I am delighted to get some exercise.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘I am not sure I can say the same about your housekeeper.’
Mrs Barker was indeed trudging along behind them with anexpression of misery.
‘Unfortunately, she is the only woman in my household available to serve as a chaperone, in the absence of your aunt. I am sure she would much rather be preparing for our luncheon than traipsing out to the fields.’
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I did not…’
‘You did not what? Did not think I would need to provide an alternate? Or you did not think I would care to protect your reputation?’
Her already pink cheeks darkened to rose. ‘I did not think you would be so unkind as to ask such an elderly woman to accompany us. A groom would do just as well.’
‘You must think me a Johnny Raw, madam, if you think I would for one moment assume a groom would do.’
She shot him an angry look. ‘I find I do not care to see your yearlings. Let us return to the house.’
‘As you wish.’
They turned about and walked back the way they had come. He could not help but notice the relief on Mrs Barker’s face as they informed her of their intentions.
To say he was surprised that the Countess would have asked him to turn back would have been an understatement. He had not expected her to give a damn about the servant.
But by doing so, she had managed to put him in the wrong, which had likely been her intention.
Blast the woman.
And he was disappointed also, he realised.
He had wanted to show off his horses.
An exceedingly youthful maid was waiting to assist Barbara in the room the housekeeper had prepared for her and her aunt during their visit.
But apart from removing her hat and making use of the necessary, Barbara was in little need of assistance. She did pin up the tendrils of hair that had escaped during her ride before heading downstairs to the breakfast room for luncheon.
The house, which had looked rather modest from the outside, was sumptuously decorated and carpeted both in the halls and the breakfast room. It had bright chintz wallpaper and large windows overlooking an expanse of lawn. The table was set for two, seated so they could each look out on the vista beyond a set of double French doors.
Standing by the window looking out, Derbridge, with his prominent nose and high forehead, looked every inch the Duke and not one to be trifled with. He was—exceedingly handsome in a stern kind of way.
