Midsummer Magic (Magic Trilogy 1)

His smile faded, just a bit.

“Eh, my lord, how about a game of cards?” Lord Danvers’ booming voice brought the both of them back to their responsibilities. “I’ve heard it said you’re quite the piquet player. Perhaps I can win back my stud fee, eh?”

“He is an excellent player, my lord,” Frances said quickly, seeing a ray of escape light through the fo

g. “I imagine your game or games would be quite interesting.”

The vicar and his wife took their leave after tea.

Lord Danvers neatly trapped Hawk, and Frances, trying desperately not to grin in triumph at her husband, merely nodded and took her leave.

She lay in her bed, stiff as a stone, until finally she fell asleep, her dreams of snorting stallions and whinnying mares, and her husband’s face.

It was near one o‘clock in the morning when Hawk quietly entered his wife’s bedchamber. He walked to her bed, lifted his candle, and stared down at her sleeping face. He reached out his hand, then very slowly drew it back. No, he thought, he would wait. It would be worth it. Indeed it would.

He smiled.

Lord Danvers took his leave the following morning after breakfast. He was jovial, even though, he informed Frances, her husband had quite taken the wind out of his sails over cards.

“A damned shark, my lady, that’s what he is!”

Frances smiled pleasantly. “I have thought similar things about him upon occasion,” she said.

Hawk and Frances stood on the front steps and waved Lord Danvers on his way. Frances said to her husband, “I see that it is profitable for you to spend so much time in London. How much of the poor man’s money did you win?”

“Five hundred pounds,” said Hawk absently. He was regarding her closely, and Frances felt herself stiffening, drawing away. He continued, “You look quite innocent and trusting in your sleep. A man could imagine that you are most malleable and charming—with your mouth shut.”

She refused to let him draw her, but still, she couldn’t prevent the words that blurted themselves out. “You didn’t touch me!”

He slowly shook his head. “No. I am sorry to disappoint you, Frances, but I was rather tired, you know. I decided to wait.”

“You didn’t disappoint me!”

“You know nothing yet, my dear, about disappointment.” He shrugged. “This afternoon, Frances. You will be at the stables at precisely two o‘clock.” He saw that she would protest, and added, “I also remember seeing you striding about in Scotland. I was riding in a carriage with your sisters at the time. I trust you can manage a believable stride today in your boys’ clothes.”

“I shall,” Frances said.

Frances dithered until it was very nearly two o‘clock. Even though her husband had told her to come to the stables, she wasn’t particularly surprised to hear a tap on the adjoining door. A moment later, Hawk strolled in, stopped, and looked her over thoroughly. “Very nice,” he said. “Now the cap.”

He watched her finish braiding her hair and pin it firmly on the top of her head. He took the woolen cap and pulled it down over her ears.

“Very nice indeed. You will behave, I trust, else I just might gain the reputation of a pederast.”

“What is that, pray?”

“A man who prefers boys to ladies.”

“Oh! That is disgusting!”

“I have always thought so.” He stepped away from her and studied her. The pants were a bit loose, thank God, but her long, slender legs were quite evident to him. Her shirt was covered with an equally loose jacket. If one didn’t look closely at her beautiful, quite feminine face, she would escape detection.

He grinned at her. “Well, Frances, are you ready for your education?”

She said nothing, for her tongue was dead in her mouth. He gave a final tug to her cap, bringing it nearly down to her eyebrows.

“Excellent. Just keep your mouth closed and no one will guess what really lies beneath that garb. Even if anybody does guess, no one would dare say a word.”

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