Sir Edward eyed him. He wasn’t about to quarrel with his friend, but he felt his rising temper heat his blood. He calmed himself and managed to say sardonically, “As you have done, Jules?”
“Aye, that’s it.” Jules answered brightly and looked encouraged. “That’s why I want us to ride over to the Grange this morning.”
“You seem more than a little animated about a ride to some grange?” Sir Edward stared hard at his friend’s face.
“Am I? Animated you say?” Jules returned vaguely.
“It would appear the brandy has clouded my understanding,” Edward returned as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “What has riding to this place to do with anything you have said to me this morning?”
“Nearly afternoon,” Jules returned. “I’ll explain on the way there. I have had a bath drawn for you down the hall. Wash up and perhaps I will even feed you before we leave.”
Sir Edward groaned and held his head.
Jules grinned, “Write out some instructions for your people and I will have someone take them over to Brighton and collect your things.”
On this note, Jules left his friend to do the tasks he had been assigned. Edward stared at the closed door. Had he somehow fallen deeper into hell?
Chapter Four
HE WAS A Dapple Gray. He stood sixteen hands and his black mane and tail were thick and luxurious. At that moment his head and his tail were held high with stallion pride. He snorted and pranced. Star laughed out loud as she watched him in the stud paddock. His name was Berkley’s Choice. He had won seven out of eight starts at Ascot.
He danced toward her and she cooed to him. She fed him the last carrot she had brought with her and he nuzzled her for more. She lost her balance on the post fence and nearly fell off the rail she had been perched upon. “Oh Choice, fie!” she laughed an objection.
He nuzzled her some more and she wagged a finger before petting his fine face. “Now stop that, sir.”
He was their prize and had already brought in quite a stud fee for his services that season. It was enough to cover the expenses of keeping their prime bloods at Berkley Grange.
A sound in the distance caught his attention and his ears went forward alertly as he scanned the long drive. She turned to have a look.
“Now, just what do you see?” What she saw at that moment was discouraging. Ill kept lawns, trees and evergreens in need of shaping and pruning, weeds in the flower beds and their long drive to the house was badly rutted. How could she help but sigh and remember another time when Berkley looked so different, so very fine.
The stallion nodded his head and his nostrils flared. Star reached up to stroke his nose again, but he wouldn’t look at her as he stared down the long drive. She shook her head and asked, “What is it, young man? What has you so bothered?” She sighed, “The season is over for you, as we don’t have any other mares listed to be bred.” It was then, that she heard the clip-clop of hors
eshoes hitting stones and her own attention returned to the driveway. “Faith! Who can that be?”
Star saw the outline of two male riders coming toward her and frowned as she tried to read their features. All at once she realized…one was Jules and the other was his friend, the man who had stopped her last evening when she had been in disguise.
Oh no! Dash it all. What now? Would he recognize her? No, no, how could he? She had to calm herself. She simply had to.
She stayed right where she was and put on a welcoming smile. She would just have to brave it through.
* * *
“Wait till you clap eyes on her, Edward,” Jules said with some liveliness. “Her hair is the color of…” He sought in vain to find an adjective and sighed to call it, “spun gold, but lighter in color…thick in texture.”
Sir Edward’s only interest was the fact that he had a button in his pocket with the Berkley crest, the same at the entrance of the Grange. He had a vague memory of a young lad as well. All the rest Jules went on and on about had begun to bore him and he said, “I think you have told me that once or twice already, Jules.”
“Did I? Well, gold is not the right word. It is nearly white…no…it is the color of cornsilk. That is the color! Cornsilk with a hint of gold threaded throughout.”
“Cornsilk?” Edward said dubiously.
“Yes, yes, but so much lovelier and she wears it short. Actually, it is shorter than what I like, but I have imagined what it would look like draping down to her waist.”
“How short does she wear it?” Edward was momentarily diverted.
“Very… to her neck and swept back, most odd…but there is never saying what a woman will get into her head to do,” Jules answered thoughtfully.
Edward laughed, “You are an incurable romantic and make me quite sick.”