Unbefitting a Lady (8 page)

Likes a bit of rough
. The thought
plagued her all through dinner. Bram was the most arrogant, most attractive,
most irritating, most exciting man she’d ever met, and the most inappropriate.
In all practicality, she could not think of fixing her sights on him. He was a
groom, for heaven’s sake. After Kate’s marriage to Virgil, the family couldn’t
take another shock. One of them had to marry decently.

Phaedra pushed her potatoes around her plate, letting her
thoughts wander down the most obvious path. Marriage? Did she think that’s where
this hot and cold adventure with Bram was headed? There was no possibility of it
happening in truth. Status differences aside, one did not marry for hot kisses
alone. Every governess she’d ever had had neatly outlined the duties of a duke’s
daughter when it came to marriage. Apparently they’d done their job well.

To marry a man who was practically in service would make her a
laughing stock among her social set, and her husband too. Everyone would know
he’d married for enormous advantage and for no other reason. A marriage couldn’t
survive under those circumstances. The doubt would kill any genuine feelings all
too soon.

Well, if one couldn’t marry handsome grooms, one could still
kiss them, came the rebellious thought. If Bram was flirting with her for his
own nefarious purposes, perhaps she could turn those purposes for her own good.
What had Kate told her once? Men don’t ‘buy the cow when they get the milk for
free.’ The adage could work both ways. She didn’t want to buy Bram’s ‘cow’ as it
were, if
she
could get kisses for free. She just had
to be careful not to get caught.

‘Are those potatoes to your satisfaction, Phae? You’ve pushed
them around the plate five times now and haven’t taken a bite.’ Giles intruded
on her thoughts after the roasted beef had been set in front of them.

Phaedra looked up from her food. Did she look guilty? Did a
person look a certain way after they’d had their mouth thoroughly ravished? More
important, would Aunt Wilhelmina
know
that look? She
tried to remember if Kate had looked a certain way. Giles and her aunt were
staring at her expectantly.

‘The potatoes are fine.’ Phaedra smiled and forked a mouthful
to make her point.

‘How’s Basingstoke working out?’ Giles asked, clearly eager to
draw her into the dinner conversation.

‘He’s working out just fine.’
Kisses like
a dream, looks wonderful with his shirt off, likes to work the horses half
naked, oh, yes, he was working out fine.

‘Good, Anderson seems to like him,’ Giles replied, obviously
hoping to have more of a conversation with her on the subject. Of course, with
only Aunt Wilhelmina to talk to, anything would be welcome. She really ought to
say more or Giles would think something was wrong, especially when she usually
gushed about the stables at supper. ‘He took one of the mares over to Weston’s
today for breeding.’ Phaedra gathered her thoughts, dragging them away from the
other things Bram had done today. Giles would be less pleased with Bram if he
knew what had gone on behind the closed door of her office today, or at the
round pen, or in the stables late at night.

‘Breeding is not a suitable conversation for the dinner table
or for a young woman anywhere at any time!’ Aunt Wilhelmina scolded.

‘It’s breeding season, it’s what horse owners talk about in
March, Aunt,’ Phaedra protested gently.

‘You, miss, are not a “horse breeder.” You are a duke’s
daughter and it’s time you remembered it.’ Phaedra repressed a sigh. She
never
forgot it. How could she with Aunt Wilhelmina
reminding her every day?

Wilhelmina turned her attentions on Giles with a wave of her
fork. ‘This is why she needs a Season. She can’t even hold a proper
conversation. Who will want a wife who is vulgar?’

A lady who likes a bit of rough
,
Bram’s voice whispered naughtily in her head. Phaedra fixed her eyes on her
roasted beef, a little smile playing on her lips. She knew one man who might.
Good heavens, Bram Basingstoke was going to be the death of her. Or the
life.

Chapter Eight

B
ram watched Phaedra work the colt from the
shadows of the entrance to the riding house. Whoever said absence made the heart
grow fonder forgot to mention it made other parts grow harder. Two weeks of
trying to avoid Phaedra hadn’t resolved anything. If yesterday’s heated
altercation was anything to go on, avoidance had simply made things worse. It
was time for a more direct approach.

There were other things he should be doing this afternoon. His
trunk had arrived, finally, from the inn in Buxton and he needed to find a place
to store it where it wouldn’t be noticed, most especially where it wouldn’t be
noticed by Phaedra. She was curious enough to look inside and that would be akin
to opening Pandora’s box.

But he’d caught sight of her leading Warbourne to the indoor
arena and after a half-hour of pretending he had no curiosity whatsoever about
the progress she was making, Bram had given in.

There was a stable hand with her, a gangly young lad named
Bevins, who was no more than thirteen. Bram could hear Phaedra giving Bevins
instruction, her voice bordering on impatient. ‘You have to take the lead rope
firmly. Don’t back away when he tugs, it just proves to him that he’s winning.’
Apparently this had happened before, Bram mused.

It wasn’t just anyone who could get near Warbourne though. He’d
heard the boys in the stable talking about the horse in wary tones and drawing
straws. None of them were especially excited about taking on the responsibility
of caring for the feisty colt. So far, everyone was relieved Phaedra had decreed
only she would care for the beast. Everyone except him.

Bram was aching for a crack at the colt. But Phaedra’s position
on the colt was absolute.

‘Now, we’re going to see if he’ll take a saddle pad.’ Phaedra
handed the lead rope to Bevins. ‘You have to hold him. Make eye contact and talk
to him. Let him get used to your voice. I’ll settle the saddle pad.’

Bram chuckled to himself. Poor Bevins had obviously drawn the
short straw. From the slouch of the boy’s shoulders Phaedra had decided he’d be
having a lot more contact with the horse.

Bram held his breath in anticipation. He was actually impressed
Phaedra had gotten this far with the colt. The pad would be the first step
towards taking a bit and eventually a saddle. This would be interesting.

Phaedra approached from the near side but Warbourne sidled
away, Bevins making no move to stop him. She tried again to no avail. Each
approach made Warbourne more skittish. After a fifth attempt, Phaedra gestured
the boy away. ‘Go sit over there. You’re upsetting him.’ She took the lead rope
herself and spoke softly to the colt, stroking the white blaze running the
length of his face. It was nothing short of miraculous to watch the colt settle
at her touch, the signs of nervousness disappearing almost instantly. Bram’s
respect for her went up another notch.

She fed Warbourne a piece of ever-present apple from her
pocket, her other hand moving to take long soothing strokes along the horse’s
neck, the rest of her body moving subtly to the horse’s side so she could
manoeuvre the saddle pad on the colt’s back. Then suddenly it was there, the
white fleece pad was on the colt’s dark back and Phaedra was back at the horse’s
head, calming and soothing. The whole process had been masterful and magical.
He’d hardly noticed the moment she’d put the pad on and neither had Warbourne
until it was too late.

Warbourne didn’t like it but he didn’t revolt. He shook his
long mane and protested but Phaedra held the lead rope close to his halter until
he relented. ‘Did you see how I did that?’ she called over to Bevins. ‘He’s just
testing you. He’s been without a real master for too long. He has to learn some
things again, that’s all.’

Bevins merely nodded, his face pale. Bram made a mental note to
have a word with Bevins. Bram pushed off the door frame and came forward. ‘Well
done!’ He could hardly stand by; the excitement rising in him at the potential
of the colt now that he’d passed this milestone was too great. Perhaps, too,
this would be a perfect opportunity to teach young Bevins by example. He would
test the waters and see what sort of reception awaited him after yesterday.

‘Lady Phaedra, your colt is coming along nicely.’

‘Thank you,
Mr Basingstoke
.’ He saw
a secret mocking laughter in her eyes over the formality—a good sign that she
wasn’t holding yesterday against him. Perhaps it was even a sign she was eager
to forge ahead with their relationship, such as it was. The idea made her all
the more enticing, a reminder of the fact that she was the most forbidden of
fruit. He had no doubts Tom Anderson would dismiss him on the merest suggestion
of rumour if anyone even breathed the idea he harboured inappropriate intentions
towards Phaedra.

Bram stretched a hand out to Warbourne’s lips and let the horse
root at his empty palm. ‘Tease,’ Phaedra admonished playfully in quiet tones
that excluded Bevins. ‘He thinks you have a treat.’

‘Only because he thinks everyone carries apples in their
pockets.’ Bram gave her a little smile. ‘Bevins, come here.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Bevins approached warily, drawn forward only out of
his desire to please the temporary stable master.

‘You want to work with horses, do you, boy?’

‘Yes, sir.’ To his credit, Bevins straightened a little.

‘Might as well start with the best.’ Bram fixed him with a
serious stare. ‘You should see working with Warbourne as an opportunity instead
of a duty. You can learn a lot from Lady Phaedra. It’s your lucky day. Here’s a
lesson for you. If you want a horse to know you, blow in his nostrils, let him
get used to your scent.’ Bram blew softly into Warbourne’s nostrils. ‘Now, you
try.’ He stepped back next to Phaedra to watch Bevins.

‘You have a soft spot for the boy,’ Phaedra said.

‘I’ve noticed he’s a hard worker but he hasn’t been around
horses much.’

‘He hasn’t been here very long,’ Phaedra said softly. ‘His
folks died from fever and he’s been living with his grandmother in the village.
He’s very conscious of providing for her. I know he visits her on his half-day
off and he gives her most of his wages.’

‘
I’ve
got a soft spot for the boy?’
Bram joked, but he was impressed she knew that much about the boy. She had a
good heart for horses and for growing boys, it seemed. It spoke well of her, but
Bram wasn’t surprised. Phaedra was a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve for
the entire world to see—an admirable trait and a trusting one.

‘You haven’t tried a bridle and a bit yet,’ Bram couldn’t
resist.

Phaedra shot him a grey look of incredulity. ‘I had thought to.
Yesterday, that had been the plan, but he’s skittish today. It might be too
ambitious given his mood. I’ve been taking things slow with him. It minimises
failure and maximises success.’

Bram raised an eyebrow and shrugged, noting the irony of the
proposed strategy. So far, it hadn’t worked all that well with Warbourne’s
mistress. He opted for innuendo. ‘Maybe. However, Warbourne is in a receptive
mood at the moment. Now might be a perfect time to push forward. We can always
stop.’

Bram let Phaedra digest the double meaning of his content and
decide what she wanted to do with it. He turned to Bevins. ‘Go to the tack room
and get the three-jointed snaffle bit.’

‘You just couldn’t stay away, could you?’ Phaedra challenged
after Bevins sprinted off to get the bit.

‘The colt’s exciting, I confess.’ Bram fixed her with a stare
entirely different from the one he’d used on Bevins, making it clear the colt
wasn’t the only thing he couldn’t stay away from.

Phaedra put a hand on one slim hip, calling him out. ‘Are we
talking strictly about horses, Mr Basingstoke?’

‘Are we?’ He flashed her a wicked grin. ‘That’s for you to
decide.’

He bent, running a hand down the horse’s leg, pleased the horse
stood still for him. ‘He has good lines, that has never been in question. He’s
unruly but he’s come quite a way in a fairly short period. I haven’t seen a
horse of this quality for some time. It’s hard to pass up the treat.’

She looked away, a slight blush staining her cheeks. Ah, she
did
understand they weren’t simply discussing
the horse. Bram stood up from his examination of Warbourne’s leg and brushed his
hands on his breeches. He stepped forward, his voice low. ‘What shall it be,
Phaedra? I’ve signalled my availability and you’ve responded with your
willingness.’

She looked a horseman’s dream standing there with her long
braid and tight breeches, her eyes more grey than blue today and wide with
expectancy. She wanted him to kiss her no matter how much she might deny it. He
might have if Bevins hadn’t chosen that moment to return breathless holding the
snaffle bit in one hand, the bridle and more gear in the other.

‘Ah, impeccable timing, Bevins,’ Bram said wryly, stepping away
from Phaedra with a private smile that said this wasn’t over.

‘Rogers said you’d need a stronger bit on that beast,’ Bevins
explained, jingling the extra equipment, completely oblivious to the sensual
tension simmering between Bram and Phaedra.

Bram felt Phaedra’s eyes on him as if this were a supreme test.
‘Rogers is an idiot if he thinks a strong bit is a good idea.’ Bram reached for
the snaffle without hesitation. ‘The snaffle allows for direct reining, Bevins.
It’s better for younger horses. Don’t let Rogers tell you differently.’ He could
feel Phaedra relax. He’d passed the test.

After three tries, they’d managed to successfully get Warbourne
to take the bit while Bevins watched in slack-mouthed amazement from the gallery
of the riding house.

Phaedra passed the reins over Warbourne’s head and their eyes
met across his back. Sheer, unadulterated delight radiated in the wide smile she
tossed him in celebration. Her horse was bridled. Ahead of schedule. He knew the
very thoughts running through her mind. Epsom loomed large and possible on the
calendar. He knew, too, that he would not forget the look on her face right now,
the pure joy of success shining in her eyes.

The next hour passed companionably as he and Phaedra worked
with the horse,
together
. They took turns with the
lunge
line and leading the horse through a series
of exercises until Warbourne was lathered. Bram was fairly well lathered too.
Holding Warbourne was no mean feat. He marvelled that Phaedra could do it. But
always the unanswered question hovered, potent, between them.

‘Bevins, do you think you can take the colt back to the stable
and clean him up?’ Bram called, reeling in the
lunge
line. Phaedra protested but Bram held up a restraining hand. ‘Warbourne needs to
get used to other people caring for him. He’s had you exclusively now, Lady
Phaedra, for a few weeks. He’s ready to experience another groom.’ He turned to
Bevins. ‘Ask Tom to help you if you’re worried.’

‘Perhaps I should go with him,’ Phaedra offered. He would not
let her get away so easily.

‘No, let him do this. We all had to start somewhere. We can’t
build his confidence if we don’t give him any.’ But Bram kept a careful eye on
Bevins and Warbourne until they were out of range. It wouldn’t do for him to be
wrong now. He’d made headway with Phaedra
and
the
colt today.

‘Thank you for your assistance. I wouldn’t have pushed him,’
she said as Bevins disappeared from sight.

‘It wouldn’t have been a wrong choice, just a different
one.’

Phaedra nodded. ‘Bits and saddles aren’t unfamiliar to
Warbourne. He knows them, he’s been down this path before. He doesn’t need to be
tamed as much as he needs to be trained. I am trying to balance the concepts.
He’s not a wild horse, but a high-spirited one and one that people have not
worked with in the right way.’ She shot a look at the discarded bit lying on the
railing. ‘Too many trainers would have opted for the stronger bit. Why didn’t
you?’

‘My experience has shown me a stronger bit creates all nature
of problems—steering difficulties later on if the horse learns to run through
the bit, health problems like dry mouth.’ Bram didn’t let her get another word
in. With Bevins gone, he could turn his attention to other issues. He was done
with horses for the moment. He stopped her at the entrance with a gentle grip on
her arm. ‘We have unfinished business, Phaedra. I am waiting for your
answer.’

I have signalled my availability and
you’ve responded with your willingness
. Phaedra could not pretend he
meant anything else, not with those blue eyes lingering on her lips in the most
suggestive of ways. But what to say? Should she take his invitation and satisfy
her curiosity or should she say no, the answer she’d been raised to give?

He tipped her chin up, the pad of his thumb stroking her bottom
lip, his voice a sensual murmur at her ear. ‘I can show you pleasure beyond your
wildest imaginings, Phaedra.’

He kissed her then, a long slow kiss that caressed her mouth
and warmed her body. But it was his hands that nearly sent her over the edge. He
raised her arms over her head and held them there, shackled in the grip of one
strong hand against the wall, her body deliciously exposed to the long muscled
length of him. His other hand was at her breast, kneading, arousing through the
cloth of her shirt.

His body pressed lightly against hers and she revelled in the
strength of him, the power and prowess of him, as he moved against her ever so
provocatively. Her body clamoured for more, ached for it with an intensity that
drove all other cares to the far reaches of her mind. She would have been his
entirely in that moment, all good reason abandoned, if he had not released
her.

‘Do you believe me, Phaedra?’ he whispered in husky tones.

Pleasure beyond her wildest
imaginings.
Phaedra nodded, her legs barely able to keep her upright.
She was thankful for the wall at her back.