Page 24 of The Gentleman's Seduction
“She was bred by an acquaintance of mine, Viscount Sheridan. I mentioned him before. He and the Duchess of Essex have developed a successful breeding arrangement in the last three years, siring three excellent foals. The duchess has excellent thoroughbreds, and Sheridan has Arabians. I met with Sheridan at Tattersall’s and thought she would be perfect for you.”
Livvy patted the horse’s neck and looked at Martin. He seemed every bit the fine gentleman in his tan breeches, green waistcoat, and dark-blue greatcoat. When their gazes met, she flushed with the memory of his kiss last night.
“Thank you,” she said quickly.
A glint of amusement lit his blue eyes. “You are most welcome. How does your riding habit fit?” He assessed her outfit with a critical eye.
“Fine.” She blushed and glanced away. She would never get used to having Martin look at her like that…like he owned her. There was no cruelty in his gaze, but there was possessiveness, just not the way she wanted. She wanted—yes,wanted—him to look at her with the possessiveness of a man passionately in love. In the Gothic novels she cherished, the heroes were always a little callous in the beginning and would later transform into gentlemen in love.
She knew that once Martin sent her home, she would never have that chance again. She would be lost to good society, damaged goods. She would be lucky if she could hide away from the world, but most likely she would have to seek out another protector.
Protector. What a handsome word for a man who would use her for his own pleasure. It would be nothing more than a business transaction.
My body for his money.
Her stomach rolled fitfully, and she raised her chin, staring straight ahead.
“Livvy, what’s wrong?” Martin asked.
“Nothing is wrong.” She sniffed. Damnation. She would not cry, not in front of him.
“Livvy…” Martin reached over and grasped the reins of her horse, pulling them to a stop. She had to look at him now.
“’Tis the cold air making my nose run,” she lied.
For a long moment he stared at her, then sighed heavily and let go of the reins, and they started moving again. They completed a circle of the park, and Livvy suddenly noticed several pieces of paper scattered on the ground. Something was printed on them.
“What are those, Mr. Banks?” She pointed to the ground.
“I’ll have a look.” He slid off his horse and knelt, picking up a pamphlet. Then he read aloud.
“Notice, whereas you J. Frost have by force and violence taken possession of the River Thames, I hereby give you warning to quit immediately. Signed A. Thaw. Printed by S. Warner on the ice.” He turned the paper up toward her, suddenly grinning. “By God, they must be having a frost fair!”
“What’s that?”
Mr. Banks mounted his horse, still grinning. “You must’ve been a child during the last one in 1814. The Thames froze over so completely that the city of London hosted a fair on the ice. Quite the event. I went with my family just a few days before…” His joy faded.
“Before?”
“Before… It is nothing.” Martin gazed at the pamphlet for a long moment, and Livvy feared she knew what he meant to say.Before your father took everything away from me.
“May we go? I would love to see the frost fair.”
“I think perhaps we can,” he said. Part of his smile returned as he tucked the paper in his waistcoat.
They moved their horses forward, exiting Hyde Park. It wasn’t until they were back at Mr. Banks’s house that Livvy spoke again.
“I’m sorry,” she said as their eyes met.
“Sorry? For what?” He dismounted and then came over to her. He reached both hands up to her. She leaned down and placed her hand on his shoulders as he caught her by the waist. As he carried her down, their bodies slid against one another and her breath hitched.
“I know what you meant to say earlier. I’m sorry my father caused you so much pain.” Those words had weighed on her, and she knew she had to speak them, even if he wasn’t willing or ready to listen. His blue eyes softened, but his expression was hard to read.
“You have nothing to apologize for. The sins of the father should not be passed on to the children.” He brushed a lock of her hair back with one gloved hand. “Now, come inside so you can warm up. If you wish to attend the festival, you’ll need a sturdy dress and your new cloak.”
He led her inside and ordered the footmen to bring them a light luncheon to be served in his study and her bedchamber.
“May I dine with you in your study, Mr. Banks?” Livvy followed him after she’d given her riding gloves and hat to Mellie, who met them at the foot of the stairs.
