Anne Gracie - [The Devil Riders 02] (33 page)

“What time are you leaving for Alverleigh?” Luke asked.

“The general has arranged the cavalcade to leave at ten,” Harry said. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you two to come with us?”

“Into a den of Renfrews with brotherly love so thick on the ground? Not likely,” Luke told him frankly.

“Yes,” drawled Rafe. “Spare me the delights of your family reunion, dear boy. I’ve been to war, remember, and though it had its moments, I’ve had enough of it for the present.”

“You’ll come to the wedding,” Harry reminded them.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Rafe said.

“Oh, you’re still here,” said a voice from the stairs. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss you.”

Harry turned as Nell came skipping down the stairs. A lump formed in his throat. She was so beautiful. So precious. He strode toward her and managed not to snatch her up and twirl her around. He took her hand and, looking deeply into her glorious eyes, kissed the hollow of her palm.

Her clear amber eyes glowed with love. “I love you, Harry Morant,” she whispered.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Yes, my new habit. Isn’t it smart?” She twirled. “I have another one being made—wait till you see that.”

“I liked what you wore last night better.”

She blushed rosily and turned to greet his friends.

“Now I can smell roses,” Luke said.

“My bath oil,” she confessed. “Isn’t it delicious?”

Rafe gave Harry a knowing look. “Delicious.”

Harry tried not to smile.

Later in the park, he watched Nell put her horse through its paces. “She’s a magnificent horsewoman, don’t you think?” he said to Rafe.

“Magnificent,” Rafe agreed, adding, “You’re a lucky man, Harry Morant. You and Gabe, both.”

Harry gave him a quizzical look.

“You’ve both found the most extraordinary women. I can see it in your eyes—first Gabe and now you. You both have the look of men who love and are loved.”

Harry was taken aback by the comment. Rafe was always the cool one; nothing affected him. He never talked about such things as feelings, let alone love.

Neither did Harry. Yet. His eyes returned to where Nell was edging from a decorous canter to a wholly improper gallop. “You’ll find out one day,” was all he could say.

Rafe shook his head. “Won’t happen. My fate is about to be sealed. My brother’s picked out the perfect brood mare for me, some ghastly heiress with excellent antecedents.”

Harry gave him a sympathetic look. Rafe’s elder brother, Lord Axebridge, and his wife were childless, so it was now Rafe’s duty to marry and provide an heir. Lord Axebridge had thrown himself into the task of finding the heir’s mother with enthusiasm, bringing his fascination for breeding livestock together with his passion for increasing the family coffers.

“She can’t be that bad, surely?”

“Oh, she looks all right, I grant you,” Rafe said gloomily. “But she laughs like a braying donkey.”

“Can’t you get out of it?”

Rafe shook his head. “I’ve had a year to come up with someone as suitable and failed. There’s a house party at Axebridge in the new year. Unless something happens to prevent it—lightning striking me perhaps—the betrothal will be announced at its conclusion. I tell you, Harry, there are times when I want to chuck my duty to the family and flee to the ends of the earth.”

 
 
“
W
ho will I meet at Alverleigh?” Nell asked Harry. They were traveling in another yellow bounder and Nell was realizing how hard it was to keep busy while sitting in a carriage for hour after hour. At every church they passed, her thoughts turned to Torie . . .

“As far as I’m concerned, the most important person is my brother Gabe. He’s the best of good fellows. You’ll like Callie, his wife, too—Princess Caroline of Zindaria,” he added as an afterthought.

“I’ve never met a princess.”

Harry squeezed her hand. “She’ll tell you to call her Callie, like the rest of us do. Then there’s the boys, Nicky—Prince Nikolai—and Jim, an orphaned fisher boy they took in as a companion for Nicky. And Tibby, Miss Tibthorpe who used to be Callie’s governess. You remember her—she’s the one I suspected Ethan was sweet on.”

“Oh yes. Who else?”

“My half brother Nash, he’s the diplomat. You’ll probably like him. He has a way of charming people,” Harry said darkly, in a voice that implied “charming people” was akin to robbing them blind.

Nell repressed a smile. It was clear to her that Harry actually liked Nash, but wished he didn’t. “And I know about Marcus, the earl,” she said. “Why do you dislike him so much?”

“Because he’s one of those cold, superior types who hold the rest of the world in contempt,” he said without hesitation. “He made life a misery for Gabe and me during the short time we were at the same school. He’s a ruthless bastard.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “He and his friends hounded us out of that school.”

“I thought you were expelled for fighting.”

His head snapped around. “How did you know that?”

“Your aunt told me.”

He grunted. “It’s true enough. It was Marcus we fought. Him and Nash and the rest of their bullyboy snob friends. You’ll see what he’s like when you meet him. You could pick him out of a crowd—he’s got the coldest eyes in the world.”

“Then why would he offer to host our wedding?”

Gabe snorted. “My bet is that he was press-ganged into it by our mutual aunt. Once that woman gets an idea in her head she’s like a cavalry charge, sweeping all before her.”

“Yes,” Nell said, smiling. “And you’re all too fond of her to object.”

He snorted, but he didn’t deny it.

She watched the passing scenery and thought about what Harry had told her. It seemed Nash had been more or less forgiven for their schoolboy enmity, but Marcus hadn’t. Why?

And if Harry was still so resentful of the earl, then why had Gabe agreed to stay at Alverleigh? The two brothers were very close. She knew enough to know that if Gabe wasn’t already at Alverleigh, wild horses wouldn’t have dragged Harry there.

Finally they passed through the ornate wrought iron gates and headed up the long, curving drive. Alverleigh House took her breath away. It was huge, four stories high, with a central section and two sweeping wings. Twelve Palladian columns supported the curved front entrance, which was reached by a very grand set of wide marble steps. The raked gravel driveway curved around a magnificent formal garden in the center. In the sweeping lawn to the left of the building stood a large clipped maze. On the right stretched a magnificent informal garden in the style of Capability Brown. Its focal point was a wide lake with an island featuring a picturesque ruin of a Greek temple.

Nell’s nervousness grew in the face of all this grandeur. “You didn’t tell me it was this big,” she said, straightening her clothes and hair.

“I didn’t know. I’ve never been here before,” he said, surprising her. “It’s Gabe’s first visit, too—and he’s a legitimate son.”

No wonder he was bitter. But there was no time to discuss anything further, for the horses were slowing and servants came running to assist them to alight and take their baggage.

A tall gentleman came hurtling down the steps, three at a time. There was no need for Nell to ask who he was; he was the spitting image of Harry, except his hair was darker.

The two men embraced, thumping and hugging each other joyfully in a violent masculine fashion.

“Uncle Harry,” a high little voice shrieked and Nell turned to see two small boys hurtling at breakneck speed down the steps, the smaller of the two making no concession to an ungainly limp that was an uncanny echo of Harry’s.

“Nicky!” Harry picked the limping boy up and whirled him around, laughing. “And Jim. How you’ve both grown.” He grabbed the other little boy and slung a boy over each shoulder where they dangled, upside down, shouting in mock indignation and giggling.

He would make a wonderful father, she thought wistfully. She could just imagine him with a little girl . . .

Nell saw she was being observed by an upside-down prince and forced herself to smile. “I know exactly how that feels,” she told him.

Laughing, Harry put the boys down and introduced her.

“So, my new sister, delighted to meet you,” Gabriel Renfrew said with a warm smile. He kissed her on the cheek. He had very blue eyes, otherwise the resemblance was amazing.

To Nell’s enchantment, both little boys received their introduction with beautiful formality, clicking their heels in unison and bowing stiffly in the Prussian manner. Then they rushed off to look at Sabre, who’d been brought by a groom.

“Young savages,” Gabriel Renfrew laughed, and linked his arm with Nell’s. “Come and meet Callie, she’s been dying to meet you.”

“But the boys need to watch out for Sabre—” Nell began.

“They’re Zindarian boys—or Jim’s as good as,” Gabe told her. “They’re used to the ways of Zindarian horses. Sabre is a pussycat compared to some in the royal stables. Ah, here’s my Callie now.” His voice warmed.

At the top of the steps stood a woman with dark curly hair and a sweet expression. The princess. She was small and round. Very round.

Nell faltered, staring up at her. The princess smiled down at Nell. Harry hurried up the steps ahead of Nell to greet the princess with a hug and a kiss.

Nell didn’t move. There was a reason why the princess was so round. She was pregnant. Ripely, gloriously pregnant.

“Are you all right?” Harry’s brother said beside her.

“Yes, just recovering from the jolting of the carriage,” Nell said brightly, and with a deep breath she climbed the steps to meet her pregnant future sister-in-law. One step at a time.

“I’m so happy to meet you,” the princess said, giving Nell a warm hug. “Welcome to the family. I’ve always wanted a sister.”

It was such a warmhearted and generous greeting that Nell forgot her nerves. She smiled. “Me, too.”

The princess turned, saying, “Where is Tibby? I’d thought she’d followed me out.”

“The post arrived fifteen minutes ago,” an elegant, loose-limbed man said from behind her. “There was a letter for her. Marcus gave it to her in the hall just now.”

Since he was not Marcus, he must be Nash, Nell thought. He was clearly a Renfrew.

Nash shook Harry’s hand warmly and kissed Nell’s hand in a gallant manner. “Welcome to the family, Lady Helen,” he said with a dazzling smile. “I hear you’re an outstanding horsewoman. I hope you’ll come out riding with me one morning.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Nell told him. Charm was right.

As they turned to go in, a tall, serious-looking man with a grave, unsmiling face came out of the house. The earl.

He bowed formally to Harry and bowed over Nell’s hand in the correct manner. “Welcome to Alverleigh, Lady Helen, Harry,” he said. “My butler will escort you to your rooms.”

Nell met his gaze and caught her breath. There was a clear family resemblance between all the brothers, but where Gabriel and Nash both had very blue eyes, the earl’s eyes were gray: cold, smoky gray. He had Harry’s eyes. It was uncanny.

The earl continued. “Tea will be served in the green sitting room in half an hour. Someone will come to show you the way.” He gave her a clipped nod, then turned away.

The coldest eyes in the world, Harry had called them. She’d thought the same about Harry when she first looked into his eyes. And then he’d given her his hat.

Nell, still trying to take everything in, was grateful when Harry took her arm and steered her in the wake of the butler.

She’d expected to be put in different wings for the sake of propriety, but the butler conducted her and Harry along the same corridor, which made her hopeful. The size of the place was a little intimidating. One could easily get lost.

The butler opened a door. “Your bedchamber, Lady Helen.”

“What a lovely room,” Nell exclaimed. “And look at the view.”

“Lady Gosforth requested this room especially for you m’lady,” the butler told them. “And Mr. Morant, if you would step this way, please?” Harry disappeared.

Nell explored her room. It was even more luxurious than Lady Gosforth’s London town house. There was a door set into the side in the wall, and out of curiosity, she opened it.

It led to another bedchamber—Harry’s. He sat on the bed reading a letter.

“Oh, you’re in here,” she said.

He jumped about a foot and thrust the letter in his pocket.

“What’s that?” Nell asked him.

“Nothing. Just a letter from Ethan. About nothing. Horses, bills, the usual thing. Nice rooms, aren’t they? Aunt Maude requested this one especially for me, the butler said. Adjoining rooms. I told you she knew.”

Nell had to agree. Up to that point Nell had been certain that Lady Gosforth had no idea that she and Harry had anticipated their wedding vows.

But she didn’t care about that in the least at present. Something had changed. There was an air of tension about him, different from the way he’d been when they first arrived.

“Are you sure that’s all the letter was about?”

“Yes.” There was a grim look in his face as he told her, “It just confirmed something I thought all along.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “It’s to do with business. Nothing to do with you.”

Nell frowned. “Even if it’s horrid news, I’d rather know.” “It’s not horrid news. I’m very pleased to get it.” He kissed her, a brief decisive kiss. “But it’s men’s business.”

She stamped her foot. “No, I hate this. I want to know.” He wasn’t telling her the truth. Years of experience with her father loomed.

He gave her a stern look. “Don’t argue with me about this, Nell. This is men’s business. Now, wash your face and hands and we’ll go downstairs.”

 
“And this is my dear friend Miss Tibthorpe,” said Princess Caroline, who was presiding over the tea tray. “Tibby, this is Harry’s bride-to-be, Lady Helen Freymore.”