The Louise Allen Collection: The Viscount's Betrothal / The Society Catch. Louise Allen
for the only possible half-truth. ‘It is to do with horse breeding. Lord Weston has a sta—’ she caught Lady Brotherton’s eye ‘—a male horse.’
‘Oh, dull stuff.’ Sophie wrinkled her nose. ‘So is there anything you know about him, or is it just horses?’
‘Not really. But Olivia will tell you all about him, won’t she?’
‘She doesn’t know him. I mean, they have hardly had time. They are very distant cousins of some sort and he was kind to her at the Minsters’ house party, but that’s all.’
‘It is not a love match, then?’
‘No,’ said Sophie wistfully.
‘Nothing so vulgar,’ her mother interjected forcefully.
‘But the viscount is so handsome.’ Sophie sighed. ‘It would be wonderful if they were in love. I think Olivia is frightened of him, though.’
‘Nonsense.’ Lady Brotherton frowned at her daughter. ‘Olivia is merely showing a proper reserve. And as for handsome men and love matches—I hope your papa does not catch you talking such foolishness, young lady.’
Decima made her way home with much to think about. It was not a love match, Olivia knew little about her husband-to-be and Sophie thought she was frightened of him.
But what was there to be frightened of? Adam had never shown an irritable or unreasonable side to his character, and the sort of situation they had found themselves in was almost guaranteed to expose such characteristics. Perhaps Olivia was simply overwhelmed by the sheer physical presence of the man. Decima shivered pleasurably at the recollected sensations of being held in his arms, kissed with that much passion and conviction.
But then, she was tall, almost able to stare him in the eye. What would it be like to be possessed by all that maleness if one were a tiny woman? Perhaps that was all it was. Why she should feel the desire to reassure Olivia when the girl was taking the man she loved was confusing. But that desire was there, none the less.
Decima shook her head, wondering at herself. A few months ago these thoughts, the experience that lay behind them, would have been inconceivable. What she needed was to shake the fidgets out of her bones, get back to what was familiar and safe.
Henry was climbing the steps as she alighted from her hackney carriage. ‘Shall we ride tomorrow morning?’ she asked impulsively as he held the door for her. ‘In Hyde Park? Early, so we can gallop and not be told off by all the old pussies. Surely it will not rain.’ Yes, that was it; something she was confident with and could share with Henry.
Adam did up one more coat button against the dank chill of an early February morning and turned Ajax’s head through the Stanhope Street entrance to Hyde Park. The discomfort of getting up at such an hour and riding out just as the reluctant light was penetrating the mist was more than rewarded by the prospect of an almost empty park.
The gelding fidgeted and he held him in check, more for the sake of discipline than anything else, as he scanned the expanse of greensward. Bates had reported that Fox had a loose shoe and the farrier had been sent for. He would have to be taken out that afternoon when the crowds made the prospect of exercising a high-blooded stallion something of a challenge.
The way was clear, right to the carriage road, so Adam let the horse have his head and urged him into a gallop. The cold rush of the wind against his face, the surge of muscle between his thighs and the drumming of the gelding’s hooves was a physical release he hadn’t realised he so badly needed.
He pulled up the reluctant horse as they reached the tan surface of the roadway and made it walk steadily, turning from side to side and changing legs to build suppleness and obedience. The trouble was, that did not occupy his brain or still the restlessness in his blood.
Try as he might, he could not rid his mind of the look of polite contempt on Decima’s face as he had told her of his betrothal. If he had not kissed her, had told her at once of his impending marriage…But no, he had taken her in his arms in a rush of relief at finding her and then, somehow, he had forgotten Olivia entirely.
The fact that he spent most of his waking time wishing he could forget about Miss Channing was no excuse. He had been well and truly caught and, whatever his feelings for his future in-laws, he could not take them out on Olivia. It was his duty as a gentleman to marry her. Which meant that he had to forget Decima.
He had paid off his mistress, knowing that Olivia would be distressed if she ever learned of her existence. How much more would she feel it if she came to suspect his feelings for her old friend?
Decima would go back to Norfolk soon—she had left him in no doubt that she disliked London and society. After all, she had only come up to town because of Bates and Pru.
Ajax snickered, pricking his ears to look down the carriage drive, and Adam saw another horse emerging from the swirls of mist that still hung low over the park.
It was a leggy grey, galloping in defiance of all the rules of good conduct in the park, and on its back, riding as though she was part of the horse, was a tall woman in a green habit.
‘Decima.’
With the wind whipping her veil tight to her face, Decima glanced back over her shoulder to where Henry, no doubt cursing comprehensively, was attempting to fix a broken stirrup leather. Seeing that Spindrift was in no mood to stand quietly by, he had waved Decima off to have her gallop, but she had no intention of doing more than making a loop round and coming back to his side. It wasn’t fair to abandon him, and, even in a virtually empty park, it was not the thing for ladies to be riding without an escort.
Oh, but this felt so good, to be doing the one thing where she had always felt utterly confident. ‘Drat.’ She spoke aloud as she saw the other rider through the mist. He was seemingly intent on schooling his mount and out of simple good manners she would have to slow down to a decorous trot to pass him.
Spindrift tossed her head at the pressure on her bit, but slowed obediently, only to risk speeding up again when her mistress’s hands suddenly went slack on the reins.
It was Adam and there was absolutely no way to avoid him. ‘Steady!’ Decima brought the mare to a trot and then to a walk, reining in as she came alongside Ajax. ‘Good morning, my lord.’ Try as she might, that sounded cool. She was still angry with him, but the thought he might suspect why was hateful.
‘Good morning, Miss Ross.’ Adam halted Ajax. ‘We are very formal this morning,’ he observed, with a glint in his eyes that she could not read.
‘It seems appropriate,’ she rejoined.
‘You are angry with me.’ Damn him, why could he not have talked of indifferent things? Now what? To pretend not to know what he was referring to would only made her seem insufferably coy.
‘Are you surprised, my lord? I do not absolve myself from blame—to have returned your embrace was immodest and unwise, but you should have told me that you were engaged. Even if you did not tell me, it was outrageous of you to kiss me.’
‘I had forgotten,’ he said with such breathtaking simplicity she could only stare at him.
‘Forgotten? How could you forget you are engaged to be married? Poor Olivia—it is bad enough that she will have to put up with your mistress, but if she ever suspected that you could forget her so easily, to trifle with another woman…’
‘I was not trifling.’ Ajax shifted suddenly as though his rider had closed his hands hard on the reins. ‘I would never trifle with you. I simply forgot everything because I was so pleased to see you, and then I wanted to know what you were doing in London. If we had not been talking about Pru and Bates, I would have remembered to tell you about Olivia.’
‘Indeed?’ She wanted to believe him so badly. The thought that the man she loved might act