Calder Promise (Calder Saga 8)

Helen glanced at the butler. “Grizwold, will you phone the stables and have two horses saddled for us while I go up and change into my riding clothes?”

“Right away, ma’am.” He directed a half-bow in her direction and left the room.

“It shouldn’t take me more than a few minutes to change. By then the horses should be saddled,” she told Boone. “Shall we meet in the front hall?”

“Fine,” he agreed, his impatience showing at even this slight delay.

The angle of the sun’s rays created a diamond sparkle on the river’s surface. Something rustled the underbrush on the opposite bank. Laura’s gray hunter snorted and stepped lightly, eyeing the area with suspicion. But the twittering of a bird in the branches of a nearby tree seemed to offer assurance that there was no danger lurking in the deep shadows.

Just ahead of them the riverbank dipped down to the water’s edge, forming a natural ford. Sebastian glanced back at Laura. “We’ll stop here and give the horses a drink.”

“All right.”

When they reached the flattened area, Sebastian was first out of the saddle. He held the gray’s bridle while Laura dismounted. Side by side, they led the horses to the water and stood to one side while the animals lowered their noses to the water.

“This is a restful spot, isn’t it?” Sebastian let his gaze wander over the area before sliding it to her.

“It is,” Laura agreed. “Beautiful and serene.”

“It’s always been a favorite place of mine. I used to come here often when I was a boy, just to get away and be by myself, especially when Charlie and Helen teamed up to razz me.”

“Who’s Charlie?” Laura asked, although she was fairly certain she knew the answer.

“My older brother,” Sebastian replied. “He was killed in a plane crash this past winter, along with his wife Sarah and their three sons.”

Their thirst satisfied, the horses lifted their heads, droplets of water falling from their muzzles. Sebastian led his gelding to some grass. Immediately its head went down and it started to graze.

Laura joined them with her mount. “Three sons, that’s what you meant when you said something about not expecting to inherit the title, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Sadness tinged the smiling crook of his mouth. “Charlie had one more than the requisite heir and spare. It’s still hard to walk into the house and not find it full of their voices.”

“I imagine it is,” Laura agreed, not without sympathy.

“And in England,” Sebastian continued, “the tradition of primogeniture is still observed. Both the estate and the title passed to me.”

“What did you do before you became the earl of Crawford?” she asked, suddenly curious.

“In theory, I was a solicitor.”

“In theory?” Laura repeated, amused by his choice of words.

“I never had any great passion for the profession of law. Therefore, I only dabbled in it when I had nothing better to do,” he admitted without apology.

The frankness of his answer surprised a laugh from her. “It sounds as though you were a dilettante.”

“I expect I was. The modest income I received from a trust fund my parents set up for me meant that I wasn’t obliged to work.”

“That’s the second time you’ve used the past tense,” Laura observed.

“Yes, well, responsibility has away of forcing one to grow up, doesn’t it?” Sebastian countered, smiling dryly. “And you, what will you do when your tour of Europe is over?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

His smile widened into something lazy and sexy. “I have the feeling we are two of a kind.”

So did she, which made it that much more difficult to condemn him. Laura started to turn away, but his hand checked her movement. He tucked a finger under her chin and turned her face toward him.

“Is something wrong?” His eyes made a thorough study of hers. “At times it can be difficult to tell what you are thinking.”