Page 3 of To Win a Viscount's Heart
She nickered as he reached into his breeches and pulled out a large ripe carrot.
Aphrodite munched happily as Gerald reached up and lightly scratched her behind the ear.
His newest racehorse had more than earned her treat, having just beat her fastest practice time. At this rate, she would be ready well before June and the Epsom Downs.
He surveyed the refurbished stables with satisfaction. The structure looked nothing like it had when he’d arrived at Bellwood more than five-and-a-half years ago. Back then, he’d been shocked to see the decay and deterioration of the property.
Grimacing, Gerald recalled being summoned to his father’s study the morning after the Adamson ball more than five years ago. And all because of that blasted bet with Thomas Victor and Asher Wright. The shame he’d felt when his parents discovered him in the arms of the exuberant Lady Adamson—he’d never be able to forget the looks on their faces.
He’d steeled himself for one of his father’s long-winded lectures on a gentleman’s proper decorum. But there had been no such sermonizing. Instead, it took all of three minutes for his father to strip him of his allowance, amenities, townhouse, and amusements. In three minutes, his father had removed him to a rundown property in Derbyshire. He would have to workto earn his place back in Society and atone for disrespecting their family.
Gerald had been banished without a pound to his name with the understanding that he needed to learn from Mr. Angus Connery, the estate manager his father had hired.
“I like the man. If you allow him, he can teach you a great deal, son. If you don’t…well, let’s not cross that bridge,”his father had warned.
Connery came from Scotland with a wealth of knowledge on running a successful estate. In the beginning, Gerald had tried not to like him, but it was impossible. Connery was one of the finest men Gerald had ever known. The Scot taught him everything from animal husbandry to planting and harvesting crops to carpentry, to keeping detailed estate accounts.
What had started out as a harsh punishment turned into the best thing that had ever happened to him. After overcoming his initial resentment, Gerald had been determined to prove to his father that he could turn the estate around. Determined to make up for his immature, irresponsible, and reckless behavior. Determined to win back his father’s respect.
He was damn proud of his efforts including his hard-earned calluses. The roof, the interior, and all the horses—everything was new. Gerald loved the stables and had long ago decided it was his favorite place to be. Talking to the horses, while he mucked out their stalls, he would work through problems. The horses seemed to understand he needed someone to listen. When he was ready to tackle the problem, he would then discuss his ideas with Connery.
The renovations on the manor house were near completion. In a week or so, Gerald would be finally ready to welcome his entire family for a visit, and what better time than the Christmas holiday? He couldn’t wait to show his home to his parents, his sister Lady Diana Banbury, his esteemed brother-in-law Lord Christopher Banbury, and Gerald’s thirteen-year-old sister, Gabby. He looked forward to seeing them. It had been too long.
The last time he’d seen his family had been last Christmas—almost a year ago. He had gone home to the Bellecote family estate in Sussex. He’d planned to visit his family more often, but there had been so many unexpected problems that had cropped up at Bellwood, that he hadn’t had time to make it back home.
But all of that would change now that the estate was finally functioning smoothly. In the past six years, he’d worked closely under Connery’s expert tutelage, turning the failing estate around, and making it profitable. What’s more, he discovered an affinity for estate management.
He also discovered a passion for racing horses. With Connery’s advice, Gerald had begun to add to his stables. Although he loved to win, he loved to work with the horses even more. The two thousand guineas purse he’d won in April with his stallion, Hermes, at Newmarket had given him the additional blunt he’d needed to make necessary repairs to the manor house.
Not only was he winning substantial purses, he had also begun charging handsome stud fees to other peers and landowners seeking to expand their own stables. Discovering a knack for evaluating horse flesh, Gerald was fast gaining a reputation for his expertise.
He’d even noticed a marked change in his physique since moving to Bellwood. He’d always been active, riding every morning and boxing at Gentleman Jackson’s, but he’d neverdone physical labor in his life. Now, he resembled a farmhand more than a viscount—his complexion was tanned from spending so much time outdoors and his shirts and breeches had become snug given his broadened muscular frame.
“You would not believe what this place looked like six years ago, Aphrodite,” he said as he began to brush her sleek coat. “Father purchased it from Baron Barrows with the intent of renovating it as a wedding gift for when I finally married. The place had been sorely neglected.”
Gerald chuckled as Aphrodite offered up a nicker in reply.
Barrows had no talent for management and even less for gambling. He’d nearly bankrupted himself and had been forced to sell the estate at auction, which was how Gerald’s father had acquired it. The baron’s ill-treatment of the staff had led to a frequent turnover, which further eroded the property.
But Gerald discovered a hidden gem in the run-down estate: Baron Barrows had been mad about racehorses. The estate auction had also included several fine thoroughbreds. Eventually, Gerald began to expand the stables. First, he purchased a male thoroughbred, named Hermes, then he acquired Aphrodite, and last month, he’d purchased a second filly named Athena. Gerald was counting on their excellent bloodlines to help him win even more races.
“I see ye’ve been whispering sweet nothings to the lovely Aphrodite. She’s already putty in your hands. With the right training, she’ll bring you as much good fortune as Hermes has.”
Gerald turned to see Connery leaning his shoulder against the stable wall, a grin on his face.
“The horses, they get in your blood, don’t they, lad? Not quite like a lass…but close.”
“They do, indeed,” Gerald chuckled. “I’ve always enjoyed horses. Even caring for other people’s horses.
“Aye…I remember when you took care of your sister’s horse. I’ll never forget the look on her face when we delivered your sister’s horse, Bandit, to your family’s estate last Christmas.”
“Diana was thrilled,” Gerald said, remembering his sister’s joyful tears. He’d been so choked up over everything she’d gone through that he’d had to hold back his own emotions.
“Aye, she’s a lovely lass, and deserving of a happy life,” Connery agreed in his distinctive deep brogue.
Gerald nodded, thankful for his father’s wisdom in hiring Connery. From the first moment they met, the Scotsman had been blunt and honest about the condition of the property and what it would take to fix it. Everything had been in a state of ruin or collapse. The stable’s roof had fallen in, and the grounds surrounding the home, including what appeared to have been once beautiful gardens, had been left fallow. The entire place needed restoration.
Connery had been his guide in all things. In fact, the Scotsman had even held the purse strings for the first three years. He approved every purchase, even flour for the kitchen. It was one more way his father had driven his point home. But it didn’t matter because Gerald had been determined to make the estate a success and respected Connery’s experience and abilities.
