Page 27 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
“I’m in no mood.” Edward forced himself to eat the last piece of bread off his plate and stood. At the head of the table was his father, who was so engrossed in his newspaper that he didn’t seem to have noticed their conversation. “All well, Father?”
“All’s well.” He looked up briefly from the paper. “I am just reading the tips for Ascot this year.” He chuckled and shook his head. “They have finally cottoned on not to bet against our horses, I think. All of the favourites this year are our own horses.”
“What of Lord Clarence’s?” Edward wasn’t sure what made him say it. He heard his mother drop her butter knife at the other end of the table. It clattered against her plate, but she said nothing, and Jane stared at him as if he had lost his mind.
“Ah, well.” Philip sighed heavily and folded up the newspaper so Edward could look over his shoulder at the tips. “His horses are tipped to do well, too, I suppose. At least he doesn’t bother to come in person to Ascot anymore. He just sends his horses with his men. Anyway, let us not talk of him.”
It is always the way.
If the Earl of Clarence was ever brought up, the topic was brushed under the carpet as quickly as possible.
I wonder what my father would say if I were to mention Juliet …
“Let us talk of something else instead,” Philip said, rubbing his hands together as Edward took the paper and read down the tips. He tried to focus on the horses and not to think about the Earl of Clarence and his daughter at all.
“Yes, let’s.” Amelia abandoned her bread and leaned forward, smiling gleefully. “Jane said you enjoyed a lady’s company at the ball last week. Who was she, Edward?”
Edward shot an accusing glare at Jane, who held up her hands innocently.
“I shared a dance, Mother. It was nothing more.”
“Nothing?” Amelia sighed so much that her shoulders slumped. “Oh. Well, we must send you to another event soon. What about the opera tomorrow night? Many ladies of the ton will be there.”
“Maybe.” Edward hurriedly put down the paper beside his father on the table. He knew if he went to the opera, he might see Juliet again, and as much as he longed for that opportunity, he also feared it. Would he be able to control himself if he saw her again, or would he pursue her, as he knew he should not?
It would be a betrayal to my family.
“But –” Amelia began, clearly ready to argue.
“I’m going to go for a ride. I’ll be back later.” Edward left the room as hurriedly as he could before anyone could say any more.
He managed to make it out of the house, pulling on his riding jacket when Jane caught up with him. She had a spencer jacket in her hand and a bonnet with the ribbons flying behind her in the wind.
“You’re eager,” Edward said as they came to a stop in the stable yard. “Did you miss me so much when I was on the continent?”
“More than you know.” She elbowed him. “I am worried about you, Edward. You are not yourself.”
“Me? I’m perfectly myself.” He turned on the spot, holding out his hands. “Or shall I do a little jig on the spot to prove I am in perfect health?” He did such a dance, pulling a small smile from Jane, though she didn’t quite smile fully. “All I need is a ride to blow off the cobwebs. Are you coming?”
“I am indeed.”
A few minutes later, they had two horses saddled and ready to go. Edward ignored the swirling clouds overhead, hardly caring if he was to get caught in heavy rain. He pulled himself into the saddle and set off so fast that Jane shouted behind him, urging him to slow down as she raced to catch up, but Edward needed the freedom. He rode with abandon, unbidden and free.
He streaked across the lawns and into the forest, curving up the nearest hill. The horse snorted as they reached the incline, struggling but pushing on, nevertheless. They jumped fallen logs and skirted a lake, heading higher and higher up the hill. When he broke out through the trees into the clearing at the top of the hill, Edward breathed easily at last.
In the distance, he could see the clouds had broken over the centre of London. Above the skyline of tall buildings, rain was falling, but that rain hadn’t yet reached their estate. Edward halted and leaned forward in the saddle, staring at London and thinking of the lady that would be there now in that city.
Juliet.
He could practically feel her behind him in the saddle, her hands on his waist as their hips rocked together when he urged the horse to gallop madly.
“This is mad,” he hissed at himself and covered his eyes. He’d desired women before and sated that desire, but never had he wanted anyone so much as he wanted Juliet.
“What’s mad?” a voice called. He jerked his head around to see Jane appearing on her horse. She was shaking her head at him, pulling twigs out of her hair that had shifted her bonnet to rest on her shoulders. “The way you ride? Well, I might agree with you there.”
He looked forward at London again as another thought entered his mind.
He remembered standing on the staircase as Philip and Lord Clarence argued. He also remembered turning and looking back at Lady Clarence, who was holding the baby Juliet in her hands.
