Thornbrook Park (7 page)

Gabriel laughed and pushed the quail around his plate. “As it is, the fish are biting. I won't be shooting again until next Thursday at the earliest.”

“There's a hunt!” Alice interrupted. “Isn't there, Lord Markham? On your lands, I believe. A fox hunt? In a fortnight? I hope to practice some so I can take part.”

“There is indeed,” Markham acknowledged. “But it's only a cub hunt.”

“A cub hunt?” Alice wanted to hunt, who knew why, but she clearly hadn't mastered the terms.

“A cub hunt serves many purposes,” Markham explained. “Some use it to cull the young foxes to make a more manageable skulk when the real hunt begins. I use a cub hunt to train my pups, so that they learn to go after foxes and not rabbits or squirrels. I have some fine hounds this season. I think they will learn well.”

“Foxhounds?” Alice asked. “I love dogs.”

“Foxhounds, yes. I also keep terriers. They're more likely to go right into the burrow.”

Sophia fanned her hand in front of her face. “Oh, no. I think of the poor foxes and I feel faint.”

“She's never been one for blood sports, have you, sweetheart?” Gabriel took his wife's hand most tenderly, and they shared a quick glance that made Marcus's own heart tighten in his chest. In some ways, he wished he had someone with whom to share private glances. In other ways, he might be better off alone.

The rage. He'd even forgotten about comely Eve Kendal seated at his side when it started to come over him. Fortunately, the darkness passed with the turning of the conversation, leaving as swiftly as it had arrived. But he wouldn't always be so fortunate. It might come upon him again, and what then? Perhaps he shouldn't have come. He might be headed back to London sooner than expected.

Eve's conscience nagged her that she'd been avoiding her business in London by living leisurely at Thornbrook Park. She needed to see to her affairs before Lord Averford deemed her incapable, an inferior female, and stepped in. Besides, she didn't want to get in the way of a budding romance. Despite his proclaimed intention to flirt with her, Captain Thorne had turned his attention to Lady Alice before they'd even passed through to the drawing room for cordials.

Sophia had been in delights. It was then that Eve had formed her plans, made arrangements, and gone off to bed early with the excuse of another headache. She woke before daylight and donned her most practical traveling suit, black like most of her wardrobe. She added a hat trimmed with pink ribbon for just a touch of color and set off. As the sun began to rise, she quietly left the house to find Dale waiting.

“Shall we go?” she asked softly, approaching him.

The chauffeur met her gaze only briefly before his eyes shifted to focus on something behind her. “Good morning, Captain Thorne. The car's ready.”

She startled, barely resisting the urge to turn. Captain Thorne? Her heart gave a queer flutter and her mouth went dry as ash.

“Good morning, Dale. I see I'm fortunate to have company. Going to the train as well?”

Before she could steel her nerves, she found him standing at her side, the warmth from his amber eyes spreading through her veins like whiskey. Yet her knees shook as if she were chilled.

“I am.” She checked her urge to pinch her cheeks or smooth her hair, though her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she gained control of herself. It could only be that she'd been deprived of male company for over a year, and Captain Thorne was of a type she found pleasing—solid, athletic, and overwhelmingly male. “But you've only just arrived. Leaving us so soon?”

“Unavoidable business.” He, too, wore somber black, coat and trousers, white shirt, blue tie, and a dark Homburg hat, much like the one he'd arrived in.

She nodded. “Sophia suggested a night at Averford House in case my business goes late, as I expect it will.”

She had no idea how long it would take to straighten out her affairs.

“We'll be a moment. I'm preparing the engine,” Dale informed them. When Captain Thorne placed his hand on her waist to escort her to the side of the driveway, a jolt of heat seared straight through her. Imagined, of course. She tried to discount it.

“I'll be staying the night at Averford House as well. Perhaps we can dine together.”

“Yes. I would like that.” She hoped she didn't answer too quickly. “Won't Mr. Sutton be surprised?”

“Ha!” Captain Thorne had a loud, merry laugh. She worried he would wake the house before they set off. “Won't he, though? Perhaps I'll pretend not to know you.”

“Or I can pretend to be a figment of your imagination.” She smiled.

“If I imagined you, I would have made sure you remained in the drawing room after dinner last night. By the time we finished our cognac and passed through to join you, Sophia told me you'd gone up to bed. How are you feeling today?”

“Much better, thank you. It was just a headache. I'm better now. Perhaps I simply needed some time to adjust to a new environment.”

“I know what that's like. Unfortunately, I adjusted with an awful lot of whiskey followed by time alone in a dark room. After the war.”

“Before the prizefighting?” She saw his eyebrows shoot up. He didn't expect she knew. “Mr. Sutton had mentioned it to explain the bruises.”

“The fighting did help me recover some, I think, yes. After I got in the ring for the first time, I started drinking less. Until that last time, when I obviously decided to let defeat encourage me to drink a bit more.” Was that a glint of embarrassment in his eyes?

“And now you're here.” She gestured around them. “I know Sophia's so glad you've returned. You do plan to come back?”

“I do,” he said, after a moment's hesitation. “Probably tomorrow. But we're both unsuitable houseguests. I made my excuses not long after you left us.”

“You're not a guest. You grew up here.”

“That only means they place more expectations upon me. I suppose we're ready, Dale,” he said, noticing the poor chauffeur standing at attention, waiting patiently for them to finish their conversation.

“Yes, Captain Thorne.”

“Ladies first.” Captain Thorne nodded in her direction as Dale came around to get her door.

“But Captain Thorne,” she said, holding his amber gaze and savoring the warmth that flooded her. “I'm not a lady.”

Instead of a reply, the scandalous man had the nerve to flash her a crooked, wolfish grin as he waited for her to get into the car.

***

He'd had the opportunity to study her figure as he approached the car, her nipped-in waist and the slight curve of her bottom. She wasn't as willowy as Sophia, but she stood barely tall enough to lean her head on his shoulder or to press the curve of her breasts into his chest, should he pull her close. She would be soft in his arms and smell of ginger and oranges, a heady combination.

He'd caught the scent, exotic and unexpected, wafting from her when he'd run into her in the hall outside Sophia's chamber, and he could catch a hint of it in the air intermittently as they rode along. Some perfume her husband had bought her in India, no doubt. He wondered if she wore it to remember the husband or to bring India back to life in her mind.

As they pulled to a stop at the station, he didn't wait for Dale to come around. Waving the chauffeur off, he stepped out and around to open her door. He liked that she took his hand and allowed him to help her from the car instead of protesting, and he wasn't inclined to give the hand back even as they said their good-byes to the driver and walked away from the car. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, where it felt right.

She raised her face to him, a smile in her blue-silver eyes. “I've known men like you, Captain Thorne.”

“Men like me?”

“Mmm.” She nodded. “Confident, charming, ready to say and do all the right things.”

“You mistake me. I'm perhaps only one of the three.”

“You would say so. You want me to try to guess which one. It adds to your intrigue. But really, you prefer to believe there are no other men like you.”

He laughed, taking her comments lightly. She fancied herself a judge of character, did she? “I want you to believe it as well.”

She laughed, too, a delicate sound that reminded him of the bubbles in champagne, refreshing and sweet. “Perhaps it's best that I just smile and allow that I've been speaking out of turn.”

“Speak freely, Mrs. Kendal. We can be friends, I hope. If you've known men like me, then you know I'm not like my brother.”

They approached the ticket agent. He bought two fares without giving it a thought.

“Oh, but—I can pay my own fare, Captain Thorne. I don't believe we'll be seated together.”

“We will.” He waved the tickets. “Don't leave me alone with my thoughts for the entire ride into town. Please. I enjoy having company.”

He enjoyed having conversation, a distraction from the dark thoughts that crept in any time he was alone in the quiet for too long.

She pursed her full lips, withdrew her hand from his arm, and reached into her pocket. “All right. But let me pay you for my share.”

He took her hand back and put it in the crook of his arm. “We'll work it out later. For now, let's get settled.”

The train was already at the station.

“The first-class car?” She hesitated.

“The first-class car, of course. What else?” To save on expenses, she probably hadn't taken it to come to Thornbrook, but she deserved the best and so she should have it.

He helped her inside and to their seats, his gaze drawn to her backside as she settled in. He hadn't thought of women in months, longer perhaps, but God help him, she brought every basic male instinct back to immediate attention. At that hour, the train remained empty enough for them to take seats facing each other so he could watch her as they conversed.

“Call me Marcus,” he said, leaning forward, hands on his knees. “At least while we're away from Thornbrook Park.”

She raised her thin, blond brows as if surprised but taking it under consideration. “You may call me Eve.”

“I suppose we're in a unique enough situation to be less formal around each other, considering that we were in intimate conditions before even having met properly.”

She laughed again. “That's not entirely true. You introduced yourself.”

“Did I? I can't remember.”

“
Catpin
Marcus Thorne, at your service.” She mocked his deep voice and held out her hand.

“Ha! Sounds like me. Catpin? I'm sorry that I can't remember.”

“Rest assured, Marcus, I did not take advantage of you in your unfortunate state.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I'm sorry for that, too. Tell me, Eve, how is that you're not a lady? I think you could have married an earl or a viscount if you'd wanted. Your husband didn't have a title? He must have worked up the ranks the hard way.”

“He did.” She nodded. “He was a hard worker. Determined. He'd risen to captain before we'd even met. And after we'd met, I didn't want anyone else. Mother hoped I would end up a marchioness, or a countess at least. But I was in love. I didn't think they would be completely pleased, but I had no idea they would disown me. My father earned his money in trade. He purchased our estate. Apparently, Mother had hoped I would ease the censure by bringing a title into the family. Grandfather was an American.”

“The horror.” Marcus smiled so that she could see he was not serious. “Instead, you tarnished the family name further with an elopement.”

“When Ben died…” She hesitated, emotion darkening her eyes. She blinked quickly and went on. “I was alone in India. My pension wasn't stretching as far as I'd hoped. I'm headed into London to meet with my husband's solicitor, a former associate of his father. I'm hoping he has some idea where our money was invested. It seems to have gone missing.”

“I'm sorry. And your husband's parents?”

“They passed away before we were married.”

“So you are quite alone in the world.”

“I have Sophia. And sometimes, it feels like Ben is still with me.”

“Agatha would know for certain. Shall we inquire?”

She laughed again. Fortunately, the effervescent giggle that delighted him. “I confess that I'm a little afraid to find what Agatha might reveal.”

“She can be frightening, that one. I hope you find what you need in London.”

“As do I.” She nodded. “Perhaps I haven't known men quite like you after all. At first, you reminded me a bit of some of the dashing young officers who would visit us at home, bragging of their exploits. You're not one to boast, though, are you, Marcus?”

“I wouldn't say so, or I would be boasting.” He shrugged.

“Hmm. It can't have been easy growing up a second son, always having Gabriel ahead of you.”

“In everything.” He rolled his eyes. “Everything sporting, at least. He wasn't one for books. I had him there.”

“And you purchased your commission. To prove a point or fully intending to be sent off to war?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I hadn't considered being sent off to war. I had to make a place for myself, and the army seemed a good start. I wasn't cut out for the clergy, much to my mother's dismay. We have that in common, I suppose. We've both disappointed our mothers.”

“I'm sure she's very proud of you now. You went off to war, but you came back.”

“I came back.” Cooper didn't. Eve's husband didn't. It hardly felt like a worthy accomplishment.

“I imagine that Gabriel secretly envies you,” Eve said. “He has been stuck at home all this time, and you've had extraordinary adventures.”

“He has what he wants. He would never envy me.”

“You might be surprised. You might enjoy some time with your brother after being away for so long. You might find that he, too, has changed. You still have a brother, Marcus. I can't tell you what it would mean to me to have a family again, a place to belong.”

He didn't set her straight on the impossibility of dealing with Gabriel. “You miss them? Even though they let you go so easily?”

“I do. Please give Gabriel a chance. You're not boys anymore.”

“I'll consider it if we can move on to brighter topics. Tell me about India.”

Her face lit up. “It was a different world. But one I rather liked. I don't miss the heat, the sand, the unrest, but I do miss the people, the colors, the smells, and a good curry.”

“Ah, curry.”

“English food tastes bland to me now, though Mrs. Mallows is a wonderful cook.”

“Only the best for my brother, the earl. But we're back to unpleasant topics.”

“Is that why you're running off to London this morning? To get away from him?”

He didn't like the sound of it coming from her, that he had to resort to running away. Perhaps it was time he stopped running and faced all of his problems head on. After today.

“As I said, I have affairs to tend. But how lucky that we're both escaping on the same day. We can return together as well, tomorrow morning.”

“I made the return trip from India. I'm certain I could handle a train trip from London.” She straightened up, squaring her slender shoulders as if to prove her mettle.

He shook his head. “There are ruffians everywhere.”

“I might be looking at one.”

“You wound me.” He held his hands to his heart. “I want nothing more than to look after a lone damsel. Plus, I've enjoyed our conversation. I'm pleased that we get to continue it over dinner.”