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leaned in close. «Yes, I think I am.»

«And since when did Emily’s well-being and comfort become

more important to you than my own?» Lisette was surprised at

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how much Christian’s defection hurt. They’d always had each

other. Were things about to change?

Christian sighed. «Lis, that’s not what I meant and you know

it. I’ll always put you first.»

«Obviously not and, for what it’s worth, your reputation is far

worse than mine.»

He shrugged. «And I’m a man and so it doesn’t matter as

much. You might not like it, but that is the way of the world.»

Lisette realized she was a snap away from losing her temper.

Dealing with obstinate males one after the other was extremely

trying. «What do you think I should do? Find a husband and

make myself respectable enough to please everyone?»

His smile was wicked. «Well you could always start with Lord

Swanfield. I believe you said he was looking for a wife.»

Before Lisette could retaliate, Christian was gone, his laughter

echoing down the long hallway to the back of the house. She

stared after him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. How

dare he suggest that she was somehow at fault? She’d been more

than polite to Lord Swanfield, endlessly kind to Emily and was

being the perfect hostess for her father. What more could she do

to ensure the house party went off well— remove herself from

it? But that was what Christian had implied she should do,

distance herself from Emily. Lisette set off to the kitchens, her

thoughts in turmoil. Perhaps she shouldn’t have volunteered to

help out this week and would’ve been better off staying in

London with her mother. Philip had already found an elderly

relative to chaperone Emily through her first London Season as

Helene, Lisette’s mother, was hardly a suitable candidate for the

job. Lisette sighed as she fixed a smile on her face. It was too late

to change anything now. She would make sure that Emily was

protected from any hint of scandal, even if it meant staying in the

background for once and behaving herself. Perhaps she should

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simply sit beside Lord Swanfield and be ignored. She could

scarcely get into any trouble with him.

Gabriel Swanfield admired the twenty-stall stables and the

large barn beside them and wished he had something half as

grand at his property in Cheshire. Not that he ever went there,

not that he cared whether the place thrived or rotted to the

ground.

«My lord?»

He turned to attend to the head coachman who had been

assigned to be his guide. «I do apologize, Mr. Green, what were

you saying?»

«I was just mentioning that the current Lord Knowles has

spent the last few years improving both the stables, the facilities

and the breeding stock, sir. We have several very promising colts

and youngsters to show you.»

«Excellent. I’m also looking for at least one four-year-old and

at least a couple more youngsters to bring on.»

«Well, we’ll be happy to help you, sir. Would you care to walk

down to the main paddock?»

Gabriel followed behind the older man and admired the

greenness of the fields spreading out around the mellow

Elizabethan manor house, the wilderness areas and the maze. In

the near-distance he could just see the colorful skirts of the

young ladies on the terrace, no doubt getting ready to go for their

walk.

He imagined Miss Ross taking charge of them, knew that, like

a good sergeant-at-arms, she would have no trouble controlling

her troops. She’d startled him that morning with her directness,

the way she’d taken him on and left him in the dust. Despite

himself, he’d also admired her hazel eyes and fair hair, the high

arch of her eyebrow and the determined angle of her chin. For a

chit not long out of the schoolroom she was indeed a formidable

opponent.

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He glanced back at the huddle of ladies and realized they were

meandering down toward the stables. He quickened his step and

caught up with Mr. Green and enjoyed the sight of the young

colts kicking up their heels in the pasture. He pointed at a young

black horse.

«That’s the one I’d pick.»

«You have a good eye, sir. That’s Thunderbolt, his lordship’s

pride and joy.»

«Then I doubt he’ll be selling him.» Gabriel searched the other

horses. «What about the gray?»

«That’s Shadow. He’s a three-year-old and also very

promising. I’m sure his lordship would be more than happy to

tell you all about him.»

«Good.» With one eye on the rapidly approaching ladies,

Gabriel gestured back at the stables. «Shall we go back and look

at the older horses?»

«Yes, sir.»

Gabriel managed to avoid the chattering women and took his

time peering into all the stalls as Mr. Green told him about each

horse. At the end of the second row, he found a horse he liked, a

big chestnut-colored gelding. He nodded his approval at Mr.

Green.

«Is it all right if I go into his stall and take a good look at

him?»

«Of course, sir. That’s Wellington. He’s got a nice

temperament, that one; he’s not scared of much.» Mr. Green

unlocked the door. «Take your time, sir, and if you want me to

get him saddled up for you, just give me a shout.» He gave a

heavy sigh. «I need to go and be civil to the ladies and stop them

scaring my horses with all that squeaking they do.»

Gabriel went into the small stall and put one hand on

Wellington’s rump so that the horse knew he was there and

hopefully wouldn’t kick out. He walked around the side of the

horse, noticed the way its ears flicked toward him with interest

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but without fear. He ran his hand along the horse’s flank and up

his long neck until he reached his face.

«You’re a nice lad, Wellington, aren’t you?» The horse

whickered back and appeared to nod his head. Gabriel scratched

under the horse’s chin, produced a carrot top Mr. Green had

given him and held it out on his palm. «Here you go, boy.»

Nice manners, a soft mouth and an intelligent face. Gabriel

slid his hand down the horse’s front leg and checked his tendons,

hock and finally his hoof. Then he repeated the process on the

three other legs. As he crouched down in the straw, he heard

girlish laughter and stayed where he was. Hopefully the ladies

would pass him by without noticing him.

To his dismay, they seemed to stop right outside the stall

door.

«I’m sure Mr. Green said that Lord Swanfield was around here

somewhere. I wonder where he has gotten to?»

«If he has any sense, he’s probably running back to the house

as fast as he can. No man wishes to encounter a large group of

ladies while he’s talking horseflesh.»

Ah, he recognized that second voice, the slight hint of a

French accent, the intelligence behind every word. It was Miss

Ross, but who was she talking to?

«Well, I’m disappointed. I wanted to begin my campaign to

get him to ask me to dance at the ball.»

«As I said, he probably won’t be here by then. He doesn’t

strike me as a particularly social man.»

«But I want to dance with him. He is an earl and he is so tall

and handsome.»

Gabriel grimaced as the unknown voice described him. She

epitomized exactly what he disliked about the women of the ton;

all she cared about was his title and his looks. And God knows,

he had no illusions about his looks and his title was a sham.

«Lord Swanfield is also far too old for you.»

«He’s not. Father says he’s only just turned thirty.»

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«And you are only eighteen, Emily.» Miss Ross laughed, but

there was no malice in it. «Think how old he’ll be when you are

twenty-five, positively ancient!»

There was a slight pause. «I hadn’t thought of that.»

«And five years after that, you’ll have to push him around in a

bath chair and take him to Bath for the waters.»

Despite himself Gabriel grinned. How clever of Miss Ross to

point out all his potential failings as a husband rather than

outright forbid the younger girl to think of him.

The girl named Emily sighed. «Well, I suppose we should go

back. The others will be waiting for us.»

«Yes, indeed we should. Maybe you can capture Lord Swan-

field’s interest at the dinner table with your sparkling wit and

conversation.»

«What an excellent idea. I’m sure I can win our wager and get

him to promise to dance with me before you can.»

Gabriel’s smile disappeared as the two women made their way

back along the row of stalls to the exit. Miss Ross had entered

into a wager, had she? He discounted the younger girl, knew he

would have no problem disappointing her in short order. But

Miss Ross? Watching her try to exert herself to win his favor

might be amusing.

Gabriel stood up and brushed the hay from his breeches.

Perhaps he would stay on until the Hunt Ball after all.