The Deception (Baron 3)

Edmund, who had stuffed his gun into the belt of his trousers, walked out the front doors just in front of Evangeline, Bassick standing behind them as he said in a low voice to the duke, “Your grace, she is a young lady.”

“I know,” the duke said, and frowned after his son, who was gesticulating toward one of the Chesleigh peacocks. “Yes, I know. It’s strange.” He shook his head.

Bassick frowned at his master, watching him follow the young lady in question and his excited son. However had she known to bring Lord Edmund a gun? It was his experience that ladies couldn’t even bear to look at one of the ugly things. She was an unusual young lady, he was certain of that. He wondered what was in his master’s mind.

Bassick heard the duke call out, “Do the riding boots fit?”

“No,” She said, turning to face him. “They pinch. All of me is bigger than Marissa.” She stopped and lifted the skirt of the riding habit to show her own short walking boots. “It really doesn’t matter; mine are fine. But I do thank you for lending me the habit, truly.”

“I’m not lending you anything. The riding habit is yours, as are all of Marissa’s other gowns.”

“You are kind, but I will not take my poor cousin’s clothes.”

“Why not? The cost of her wardrobe would support a small village for a year. The clothes are merely hanging in her armoire, currently of use to no one. My mother taught me to despise waste. So, you are assisting me to be virtuous.

“Besides, having you well dressed will make my neighbors think more highly of me.”

“Papa, I just shot Rex!”

“Not a clean shot,” the duke called out. “He’s still staggering around. The peacock,” he added to Evangeline.

“Oh, dear, I didn’t want him to do that,” she said. “That poor bird.”

“What did you expect him to do with a toy gun?”

She looked distressed. He lightly touched his fingers to her chin. “Don’t worry. It’s a wonderful present. I will have a father-to-son talk with him later, but I can’t imagine what I will tell him. From what I remember, children are bloodthirsty savages, at least all the boys I knew. We dispatched each other with swords, knives, rocks, tree branches, boulders, you name it. Actually, I wouldn’t mind it a bit if Rex would go to his fowl rewards. The blighter never shuts up, except perhaps now, since Edmund shot him.” Rex squawked and Edmund shot him again. The duke called out, “Edmund, tuck your gun back into your belt and ask McComber to saddle Pansy for you.”

The Chesleigh stables stood in splendid isolation near the north wing of the castle. Just outside in the yard, the scent of freshly cut hay mixed with the salty smell of the sea. There was a slight rise just off to the right of the stables, and Evangeline walked there, then stood still, staring out over the water, some three hundred yards beyond the rugged promontory upon which the castle was built. The water was deep blue, calm save for the frothy white caps of the waves breaking on the beach. For the moment she felt almost carefree, as if nothing could touch her here. But it was a lie, of course. It was an odd thing, to live a lie.

“You can’t see France, even on the clearest of days. If you like, we can take my yacht to the Isle of Wight. I own a small estate near Ventnor. Edmund loves it there. There’s a protected cove where he swims, and a small sailboat I bought him last summer.”

“I enjoy sailing,” she said. “I’ve never sailed in the sea. It is different, is it not?”

“Oh, yes. You’ll see. It’s far more exciting. Do you swim well?”

She nodded, turning to follow him back to the stable yard. Why, she wondered, had he spoken about visiting the Isle of Wight, and what had he really meant about deliberations?

Chapter 11

“McComber,” the duke called to a tall, gaunt man dressed in homespuns and wearing the most beautiful leather boots Evangeline had ever seen. He was as gnarled and weathered as an old witching oak tree, and looked as strong as Hercules.

“Good day, yer grace. Emperor’s snorting his head off, heard ye, he did. He wants a good gallop, and ye can wager yer best carriage he’ll try to hurl ye off. I thought Biscuit could do the young lady. Tommy’s saddling Lord Edmund’s pony.”

Edmund, hearing his name, stuck his head out the open stable door. “I’m showing Tommy my gun, Papa,” he shouted, then disappeared inside again. They heard popping sounds.

“I don’t know how well you ride,” the duke said to her. “Biscuit is a sweet old girl who’s never caused anybody a moment’s worry in all her twelve years. She loves McComber’s apple pieces. Give her just two slices, and she’ll swim the Channel with you and three pieces of luggage tied to her back. Give her an entire apple, and she’ll seduce every stallion in the area.”

“Aye,” McComber said, “that’s true enough. She’s a good girl, my Biscuit, a plodder, but that’s just fine if that’s what ye need. Biscuit is the only mare her former grace would ride.” McComber shrugged his massive shoulders, giving her a look that clearly said, You’re probably not much at all on a horse, so give over. Ride the sweet old girl.

A great black stallion, with a white stripe down his nose, came prancing out of the stable, held by a nervous-looking stable lad. He was at least seventeen hands high, utterly magnificent, and knew it. He sent a look at the duke and reared back his head, snorting loudly. It sounded like a challenge to Evangeline. The duke laughed and strode to his horse.

“He’s incredible.”

“Aye,” McComber said, his eyes on the man who was now being butted backward by Emperor’s mighty head. “The stallion is a pretty boy as well. He’s full of vinegar, he is. His grace would kill for that animal. His father brought him four years ago, a gift to his son.”

“The duke’s father, he was a good man, a good father?”

If McComber thought this an odd, too personal question, he didn’t let on. He scratched the side of his head. “Aye, his old grace was big and strong, loved life and his family more than any man I’ve ever heard of. He shouldn’t have died when he did. A stupid accident it was. He tried to stop two friends dueling, and he was the only one to get killed.”