Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
M idnight resolutions always felt possible and invigorating until the day broke and one was faced with the situation in question and the reality that some things were easier said than done. Richard quickly realized that. The burning sensation in his chest was rapidly spreading until he was sure that he would eventually burst into flames.
That feeling, he suspected, had something to do with Selina and how beautiful, irresistible, and unattainable she looked in the daylight, dressed in a golden day dress that accentuated her olive skin. That, in combination with her dark locks, made her look like a ball of bright light. A light that was threatening to burn him to cinders.
She was seated on a pony, the filly dancing close to the bored-looking stallion owned by Lord Sanderson. The stallion ignored the eager, friendly filly while his rider smiled adoringly at Selina as they conversed.
The dratted man must have said something funny because she threw her head back and laughed, exposing the smooth, glowing skin of her neck. Skin that he had tasted, licked, and savored only yesterday while she writhed in his arms. He knew how she smelled there, her floral perfume potent, warmed by the heat of her body.
Her scent was addictive. Even now, he could swear that he smelled it, even though her horse was far away from his.
As he watched, Sanderson bent his head to whisper something in her ear, and the fire within him raged so strongly that he was surprised there were no singe marks on his body.
Sanderson stood so close to her that Richard was sure the man could smell her scent. Did she not know better than to allow men so close to her? But perhaps Sanderson’s dark, handsome looks were enough for her to overlook some parts of her etiquette lessons.
Richard was tempted to ride over there and remind them to focus on their trail and ride instead of providing fodder for the tireless gossip mill that powered most of the ton’s conversations.
The only thing that kept him sitting firmly on his restive stallion, Specter, was the fact that he had promised to find her a suitor, and Sanderson, despite his faults, was an eligible one, free from scandals as far as he knew.
He would make a fine husband for any lady he decided to marry, even though Richard was having a difficult time accepting the image of the two of them exchanging vows at the altar.
He was also struggling with imagining the dratted man being granted leave to touch her as he pleased. To sip from her sweet mouth and learn the curves of her body with his fingers. To fall asleep while inhaling her sweet scent. The thought added a dull ache to the burning sensation in his chest until he was positive he was coming down with some mysterious illness.
Shaking his head to rid himself of the torturous thought, he pulled at the reins, guiding Specter to a less populated part of the trail and allowing him to gallop freely.
The stallion seemed happy to be allowed this freedom after being cooped up inside the stables for several days. However, several minutes of galloping brought Richard no peace. Even as he panted for breath, his mind was insistent on bombarding him with images of Selina until he was positive she was engraved under his eyelids.
When it seemed that the physical exertion would not bring calm to his chaotic mind, he decided it was time he returned to the house to avoid harming himself and his prized stallion due to his distracted thoughts.
Pulling on his reins, he guided his horse around to return. At first, the stallion resisted, throwing its magnificent head to show its preference to remain out in the wild.
“It’s alright. Good boy,” Richard whispered in his ear, leaning forward in the saddle. “Another time,” he said, patting the horse’s neck to calm it before turning back the way they came.
When he returned to the house, he found that most of the men had left. They were probably somewhere on the large estate grounds, displaying their riding skills.
The tables that were shaded by huge umbrellas were occupied mostly by matrons, who sat in groups, deep in conversation that he suspected had to do with whatever riveting stories the gossip mill had spun in recent days.
The only space available was at a lone table, a bit away from the others and, rather typically, occupied by his mother. Her presence there was surprising because she despised the sunlight, blaming it for every blemish on her skin and totally ignoring the greater effect of age and time on her beauty.
While it was surprising that she was there, it was no surprise that she sat alone. Scandal hounded her like a ghost. She was also well-known for her vanity and selfishness, which made her unable to make connections with other ladies in the ton. She looked down on them and felt that any comment they made was somehow a reflection of their jealousy.
His mother was a vain mess, albeit a beautiful one. He might prefer to avoid her—going into the house so as not to interact with her—but he needed fresh air. No matter how much he disliked her, he would not snub her in public. It would be the easiest way to stoke the fire of the same scandal he was trying to prevent.
Marching with no little annoyance, he took a seat at her table, then proceeded to loosen his cravat and remove his cufflinks, which he slipped into the pockets of his trousers so that he could fold the sleeves back over his forearms.
“It would not kill you, you know, to bid your mother good morning,” Johanna sniffed.
“I saw no need to repeat myself, since we exchanged pleasantries earlier this morning,” Richard said coldly, examining his boots and trying to determine if he needed to return indoors to clean them.
“Yes, that might be true,” she said in a sulking tone that made his annoyance burn hotter. “Though it would not kill you to at least acknowledge me when you sit beside me.”
“I did not sit here because I wanted to keep you company,” he returned hotly. “This was the only available spot.”
“Why are you so defensive, Seymour? It would not kill you to enjoy a private moment with your mother.”
“And what would we discuss?” he asked, meeting the familiar indigo eyes that had stared down impassively at him when he’d struggled. They were filled with false cheer now. A feverish gleam that made him feel slightly sick. “I doubt you are proficient in the topics I wish to discuss. Since I do not wish to discuss the latest fashions and balls, I will skip any conversation you have in mind.”
His mother’s vanity meant that she had an unhealthy obsession with material things. He had gotten his eye for fashion from her, and while he should be grateful to her for giving him the means to help Selina, he could not shake the resentment that came from knowing that she valued those fabrics more than she valued him.
Now, he watched with sardonic amusement as her hopeful smile dissolved into the sulky look she had used on many men in her heyday. Unfortunately, it did not quite suit her now. Instead of eliciting his pity, it made him feel something akin to disgust. He immediately turned his back to her, effectively ignoring her.
“What is it between you and the Wilkins girl?” she prodded, apparently not content to sit in silence. “You seem quite attached to her.”
“Not that is any concern of yours, but she is the sister of a friend, and I am just looking out for her to make sure she has an uneventful Season,” he said blandly.
The lie made his stomach churn, but he would rather die than give his mother any information she could use against him the next time she decided to manipulate him or the next time she requested money to fund her many addictions—the most current one being rum.
“You do realize that for a man who claims to despise scandal, you are actively courting one?” she warned.
“Pray tell, what do you mean by that?” he said, shifting in his seat so that his full attention was on her face.
“You and I know very well that her reputation is less than impeccable,” Johanna said in that condescending tone that never ceased to irritate him. “She is a long-term spinster known for a sharp tongue that could cut grown men into ribbons. That is aside from the fact that she is a member of the bitter Wilkins family, who remain enemies of the Barnes family. It took her elder brother marrying their enemy’s daughter to secure a truce. Even that was broken when her brother came for revenge. Her family reeks of scandal. Apart from that, you spend so much time with her, and you watch her hungrily enough to cause a scandal.”
His anger roared like a furnace before simmering as he fought for control. When he opened his mouth, his words came out in a cold tone that was totally at odds with the fire that blazed in his chest.
“At least their scandal was a result of their determination to fight for their dignity. You, on the other hand, have been courting scandal for most of your life for the worst reasons. You just want to feed your vanity and selfish heart with no care of who you destroy in the process.”
He watched pain bloom in her indigo eyes, and a small part of him that still recognized her as his mother felt guilty. She might be the one whose name graced the scandal sheets often, but he suspected that his father might not have been completely innocent of her transformation from the young, cheerful lady she had once been into the bitter, vain person she now was.
His childhood was made up of bits and pieces of memories of the many times he had seen either his mother or father’s lovers sneak in and out of their estate.
His mother’s nursemaid had done her best to protect him. Whenever they had a confrontation, she took him into the nursery and sang to him in a loud voice, doing her best to drown out the sounds of breaking ceramics.
Sometimes, she told him stories and put him to sleep while keeping a smile on her face. She had played the role of his mother far better than Johanna had, and he was forever grateful to her, so much so that he kept in touch with her even when he left England for those long years.
She was probably the only reason why he had grown into a well-disciplined man. She had taken up his education when his parents forgot, reminding his father to provide the money needed to pay his tutors. She had been the angel that had been sent to protect him from the hell that was his childhood home.
That was the reason he could not forgive his parents. They had let their youthful exuberance push them into something they had regretted soundly once the appeal wore off and weren’t bothered in the least bit to handle to responsibility they had earned themselves.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden noise around him as the early morning riders returned, the sound of neighing horses and chattering voices breaking the relative quiet in front of the house.
His eyes were immediately drawn to a particular couple as they guided their horses towards the stables. A stable hand came to meet them halfway, offering to lead their horses to the stables.
Richard watched as Sanderson jumped down with athletic ease, obviously meant to impress Selina. The man tossed the reins to the stable hand before moving towards Selina. He raised his arms when he stood beside her filly and wrapped them around her waist to help her down. His hands lingered far too long on her waist even though she now stood on her own two feet.
The flirtatious smile she gave him as she thanked him roused the banked fire in Richard’s chest. He wanted so badly to spring up from his seat, rush over to where the couple stood, and slap the satisfied smirk off Sanderson’s face.
The impulsive thought stopped him short. Slowly, he realized that the emotion that had been riding him whenever he saw Selina with Sanderson was none other than jealousy.
It had felt foreign, as he had never felt this way before, even when his former paramours decided to move on. He had always been coolheaded and pragmatic, wishing them the best in their future endeavors. But with Selina, it felt different. Just the sight of another man’s hand on her waist drove him close to insanity, and not for the first time, he wondered how he would survive when she inevitably married another man.
Selina was having a great time.
Peter Wilford, the Earl of Sanderson, seemed to have taken a liking to her, slowing his horse down and striking up a conversation with her. The man was witty, mischievous, and intelligent.
In him, she saw a male version of herself. Their conversation flowed, jumping from topic to topic with the seamless ease of a well-choreographed dance.
They talked about horses. She had admired his stallion, and he had informed her that Thanos, his prized horse, was a thoroughbred that participated in races. Selina had been thoroughly impressed, and from there, their conversation moved to breeds of horses, before finding its way to horticulture, then politics and Society in general.
Evidently, Peter was an excellent conversationalist, and several times during their exchange, she wished there were more men like him in the ton. Perhaps she might have enjoyed attending social events, and she might have even been married by now. It was unfortunate that most noblemen were empty-headed idiots who were so confident in their self-importance that they did not see any need for improvement.
While she had thoroughly enjoyed her conversation with Peter, she was acutely aware of Richard’s hot gaze on her, so much so that she half expected to find burn marks on the exposed skin of her neck. It was hot and not a little discomfiting.
His gaze brought to mind dark corners and the naughty things he did with his mouth and fingers. She was so distracted that it was a miracle she had managed to keep the conversation going, but Peter had been speaking so passionately about his horse that he had not noticed the non-committal sounds she made.
She knew when Richard left because she could no longer feel the heat of his gaze. When her eyes searched for him, she found him galloping down the trail like a man possessed. She immediately felt alone, the atmosphere turning empty.
For the rest of her conversation with Peter, she offered weak smiles while her mind remained preoccupied, wondering why Richard had left so dramatically.
In a little over thirty minutes, she begged Peter to return, stating that she needed to use the ladies’ retiring room. That excuse was not necessarily true, but she honestly feared that the corners of her lips would tear if she smiled any longer. She realized that she was rapidly growing an attachment to Richard that prevented her from enjoying social events without his brooding presence nearby.
Peter was the perfect gentleman throughout, guiding her horse gently as they returned while asking about her well-being from time to time. The man was a sweet angel. If she could feel for him a bit of the attraction she felt for Richard, all would be well, and he might just become a good marriage candidate.
When he helped her dismount her horse, she admired his athletic grace while she felt that burning sensation on the back of her neck. Richard was watching, and somehow, she did not think he was pleased.
Focusing on Peter, she thanked him for his help.
“I had an amazing time with you, My Lord. Thanks for the company. I look forward to spending time with you on another occasion.”
“I should be the one thanking you, My Lady,” he said, lifting her hand to place a kiss on it. “You are not only beautiful but also intelligent in a way that is quite rare in polite society. You make exquisite company. Please allow me to take you on a drive sometime soon. I truly enjoyed your company.”
“Of course, My Lord,” she replied with a smile “Perhaps I might get to see Thanos again.”
“I am sure he would love that,” he said, chuckling. “I think he would love it more if you bring your filly along as well. I believe he has developed a liking for her,” he added in a mischievous whisper, leaning forward such that a dark lock fell over his eye.
Not for the first time, Selina was hit by his attractiveness even though it was only interest and nothing like the helpless desire she felt for Richard.
His assessment of his stallion might better explain why. Thanos kept coming closer while the filly shied away at first. She soon started sidling up to the stallion, forcing Peter to retain rigid control of the reins to keep them moving along the path.
“I will try to bring her along,” Selina said with a short laugh.
“Excellent,” he said with a smile that revealed straight white dentition. “Good day, My Lady.” He bowed before stepping away, his movements lithe and graceful like a panther.
By all means, he was a very attractive man who also appeared to match her intellectually, and he seemed to be a good person overall. If only he could make her feel half the way Richard did with just a glance.
Even now, she could still feel his gaze on her. As she turned to him, she was distracted by her aunt Martha stepping towards her, effectively blocking her field of vision.
“Well done, Selina,” Martha said, her face wreathed in bright smiles. “You might get married soon, especially since you have managed to catch the eye of the Earl of Sanderson!”
“I would not get my hopes up. The Earl has not declared his intentions towards me.”
“But he seems interested, doesn’t he?” Martha asked, arching an eyebrow. “He had his attention on you the whole time, almost like he was entranced. Trust me, he will propose to you. He is a perfect match. He is an earl—one of the highest ranks in England—and a gentleman, and he is quite easy on the eyes,” she said, wiggling her brows suggestively. “Trust me, I think you could have a potential husband on the cards.”
Selina might, but why couldn’t she keep herself from thinking of Richard whenever she thought about a husband and walking down the aisle? She was doomed, and she knew it.