Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
It was easier said than done for Agnes to focus her attention solely on Scar’s training.
At first, it seemed as though her plan was off to a good start.
The next morning, after learning about the competition, she set off to find out everything she could about it and Scar as well.
Lukas – the most forthcoming and indulgent of her idea – had been more than happy to tell her all she needed to know.
“It is held every year around this same time – when the season is at its peak. Attendance from people all over the country can be counted on, as it is quite a large-scale sight. The competition features a number of events within it – the most important of which is the showcase and the race.” Lukas had explained while carefully pouring her a cup of tea.
“The showcase?” Agnes queried, a little confused by that aspect.
“Yes. People like to… simply look at some of the horses. A lot of points can be garnered if the beast is a lot easier on the eyes. The showcase allows the audience to participate in the competition as they can vote on which horse they fancy the most.”
“Oh,” Agnes exclaimed softly. “Well, we should have no problems there – our darling Scar is quite a looker.”
She had not been exaggerating. Scar was, after all, a thoroughbred – one of the most elegant and strongest horse breeds out there – and Silas’ care and dedication to him was obvious in the way his coat shone beneath the sun and how quickly he moved.
“I am still surprised you were able to convince His Grace to let you enter the competition with Scar.”
Agnes frowned. “What do you mean? I thought he had participated in the competition previously. You said Lord Hamilton had never beaten him.”
Lukas nodded. “Yes, but he has never participated with Scar. He has other great horses and has easily won with those ones. He is quite protective of Scar because that was the first horse the old Duke ever gave him. Hence, he does not allow anyone else to handle him or ride him. I was surprised to hear that you were able to do both, to be honest. Scar seems to be aware of the Duke’s favoritism and doesn’t respond well to the approach of others. ”
“I suppose you can say I have a way with people. And horses.” Agnes giggled.
“I suppose so. Well, this will be good for them both, I think. The Duke will get to show off his prized possession, and Scar will be able to live out his full potential, assuming everything goes well.”
“It will,” Agnes had promised because she intended to ensure that it did.
She spent the rest of the day getting to know everything she could about Scar’s strengths and dietary requirements and setting up a good training routine for him to ensure that he would be fit to not only compete, but his chances of winning would also rise.
In the evening, she took a little ride with the horse and conducted a couple of preliminary drills to help her know how better to proceed. Scar did really well during them, and it made her even more excited to work with him, increasing her anticipation for the future.
Unfortunately, as the sun set, her good mood went along with it.
She had not seen Silas at all that day, and he had not joined her for a single meal – a routine he had wordlessly picked up upon her arrival and seemed intent on keeping.
Her godmother and the Dowager Duchess had suggested that the two of them spend the initial first days after their meeting getting to know each other, and to that effect, gave them space to interact more, but that seemed to be pointless, considering Silas had refused to relate to her in any way.
Agnes could not understand how he could be so passionate one moment and cold the next.
It frustrated her how easily he could dismiss her, refusing to even attempt to talk about what had transpired between them or form some sort of amicable partnership – like he suggested that they do on her first night at the mansion.
But as angry as she was, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Being active and fussing over preparations for Scar’s training was barely keeping her from recalling the feel of his hands on her body, how deeply he kissed and ravaged her.
She wondered what would have happened if he had not stopped. She wondered just how willing she would have been if he had wanted to have her, there and then.
That thought shocked her so much that she dropped her fork and stunned the servants, staying close while she had her dinner. Blushing furiously, she picked it up and shoveled more potatoes into her mouth, perhaps with more force than necessary.
She was really trying not to think about it, but it seemed she was getting the opposite effect.
It was hard not to reminisce, not to crave more.
Agnes’s mind tried to rationalize her feelings, to remind her that she had a goal at stake and she could not afford to be distracted.
But she could not deny that despite their reservations and first impressions of each other, there was something… more blossoming between them.
And a part of her itched with anticipation to know more, to let her walls down to see what would happen – as irritating as it would probably be to entertain a man who held no single regard for her.
It continued like that for days. She spent a lot of her hours to train Scar, who picked up tricks and techniques at amazing speed, and she was thankful for that.
The competition was only two days before the proposed date of their wedding, which did not leave her with a lot of time to prepare – both Scar for the competition and herself for her wedding – and so she was glad for his speedy progress.
Her days were either spent outside in the sun with the horse or indoors, between Lady Anna and Alexandra, discussing and making arrangements for her wedding.
The nights were harder, consisting of lonely dinners, cold sheets, and dreams of a man who wanted nothing to do with her – a sentiment she shared initially but was not unsure of.
Still, she steeled her resolve and pushed forward because no matter how lost she felt, she would never stray away from the way her father had raised her.
Regardless of what could happen or not, she would not lose sight of her goal, and she was going to do everything in her power to get it.
Silas had succeeded in pretending he did not care about Agnes’ affairs for only a few hours the day after their encounter in his study. He had woken up that day determined to overlook everything that had happened, eager to bury the memory and resume his initial plan to keep his distance from her.
But as she left the house to fetch Scar for a short training session, he found himself moving to the window to watch her.
He had given himself the excuse of wanting to ensure that she would not do anything to harm his horse.
Still, as time went by, he found himself watching Scar less and his betrothed more.
It was definitely annoying how she had gone right ahead to train Scar for the competition without his express permission, and he was growing very impatient with her habit of doing whatever she wished.
She was clearly so stubborn, so set in her ways, and unwilling to listen to what he had to say – even though he was the one with more authority – and it irked him to no end.
But he could not deny that she was captivating to look at, decisive with every choice she made, and she handled Scar with ease that could rival his own methods.
She was good to him, gentle in ways Silas was unsure he had shown the horse, and for a moment, he felt…
thankful that Scar had taken to her quite easily.
Their training session had been short on the first day, as expected, merely a few preliminary drills for her to take in Scar’s skills and capability, and he had to give her credit for her professionalism – something he would rather eat a poison mushroom with the potential to aid him in kicking the bucket than admit.
She had tripped when she was leading his horse back to the stable, and he felt his heart lurch at the sight, unable to keep himself from sighing in relief when she found her footing and continued her task.
When Lukas arrived to ask him if he intended to join Lady Agnes for dinner, his refusal had been swift and immediate, and a single glare from him encouraged his butler to hold his tongue and wisely retreat while he had not made any missteps.
His meal had been brought to him a while after, and he absentmindedly wondered if this was how things would be when they were married and whether he would prefer it that way, oddly disappointed in himself for not knowing the answer to the question he had raised in his mind.
Agnes was determined to make a competitor out of Scar, and it showed in how committed she was to her regimen.
Simon had informed Silas that she had designed an entire schedule for his training and even asked about his dietary habits in order to know just how best to utilize his energy and strengths.
It was quite impressive, honestly, and Simon was clearly happy to have been appointed as her helper.
Against his will – or at least that was what he told himself as he failed to resist the thoughts that had made the suggestion – Silas found himself moving to the window of his study to watch her again.
It was odd how entertaining it was to observe her going about her task - although he could do without all the minor heart attacks she invoked every now and again.
It went mostly well. Scar seemed to be receptive to her orders and moved along nicely.
Still, quite often, he would grow impatient and kick dirt onto her boots and sometimes onto her riding habit.
Her scoff of disbelief made him grin quite as much as her gentle whines to his horse whenever he failed to carry out a task the way she wanted.
But sometimes, she fell over – an occurrence not uncommon to this sort of activity, but that did not stop worry from brewing beneath his skin.
He would stay where he was, willing her to rise, muttering under his breath until she did.
But it was never just enough to see her stand and continue what she was doing, and he found himself needing to confirm her well-being.
“Your Grace?”
“Is she all right?” Silas repeated, irritated that he needed to since Lukas appeared to be hard of hearing these days. “She… she seems a little unsteady on her feet and has fallen quite a number of times today.”
“Oh… I believe Lady Agnes is quite fine. I overheard her telling Simon that bruises are often a sign of one’s hard work, and she was thankful to have proof that she was putting in as much effort as Scar was.
Strange, true, but she seemed hearty and satisfied when she returned to the house after today’s training session – a little tired too, but that is to be expected. ”
This woman was proving to be more trouble than he needed. What on earth did she mean by a sign of one’s hard work?
Silas had never heard of anything more ridiculous.
He felt sorry for himself for his thoughts of concern, as his betrothed was clearly not right in the head.
Perhaps the side effect of one too many tumbles and falls as a child, he wondered as he waved Lukas away.
It should have been enough for him to hear that she was fine, but his mind kept bringing up the memory of her fall.
The next morning, he awoke early and took a horse from the stables, riding away from his mansion into town. It had taken him a moment to find the house he was looking for, as he had not had to do this himself before, but eventually, he was directed to the dwelling of whom he had been searching for.
The man inside was surprised to receive such an early call that was not for a dire situation. Still, once Silas explained what he required, he accepted the Duke’s offer and gave his word that he would be at the Forestwood mansion at the appointed time.
When Agnes came outside that day to begin Scar’s training, there was a man she had not seen before lingering next to the stable. He carried a bag, and his bespectacled face harbored a kind expression she was all too familiar with, and she stopped in front of him, confused.
“Good morning,” she greeted cautiously.
He smiled kindly and bowed. “Good morning, my lady. I am Mr. Peter Bennett, at your service.”
“At my… I’m sorry, I did not call for a physician. So –”
“No, my lady, you did not. I was hired to stay close by in case of emergencies. I heard you have been taking quite a few falls while you train your horse. Although your dedication is something to be marveled at, sometimes, you could sustain injuries that are more serious than they look. My job is to ensure your well-being and attend to any injuries you might incur at the end of the day.”
Agnes frowned in thought. It made sense to have a physician close by, but who would go to such lengths over a few little falls?
It was honestly a thoughtful action, and though it was an appreciated gesture, she could not help but feel as though it was a little unnecessary.
Still, she smiled softly and nodded to the physician.
“In that case, I am in your care, Mr. Bennett. I hope you will not grow bored of watching me work.”
He shook his head with a hearty chuckle. “I doubt that would be the case, my lady. But thank you for your warm consideration.”
Silas watched them talk, sighing in relief when Agnes accepted the physician’s presence, thankful that she had chosen to be agreeable this time, as opposed to her usual desire to go against his wishes.
The physician moved to sit at a spot that had been provided for him, his alertness reflected in his gaze as he watched Agnes work.
Thankfully, the day ended with no more than a few scrapes, which he took care of before he left.
The Duke found that he was unable to give his thoughts to much else other than her well-being while she worked with Scar, and when he was not watching her ride his horse, he was thinking about the feel of her, caged between his body and the door to his study.
He could not forget how hot her skin was beneath his hands, how their breaths mingled, and how sweet she tasted.
He found himself wanting more, curious about what she would sound like as he ravaged her –
The sound of ripping paper pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked down to find that he had ruined a document he had been crafting, his grip tight on his pen as it dug into the paper. With a groan of frustration, he tossed the pen aside and ran his hand through his hair.
That woman would be his undoing.