Chapter 1
Rupert
He ran up their stirrups, hooked their reins behind them and gave each of them a parting pat. “No shenanigans, if you don’t mind.” Then he set off through the trees toward his objective, the horses soon invisible in the near full darkness of three in the morning.
The air was chilly as it was early spring, but at least it wasn’t raining as it had been for the last three days.
The scent of bluebells filled the air, and underfoot the grass was wet, but he had his top boots on, so that didn’t matter.
It was to be hoped Juliet would have attired herself sensibly for a ride through the night.
The thought of the adventure that lay ahead of them both spurred him on, and he walked with a skip in his stride.
Until he tripped over an invisible root.
Annoyed, he picked himself up and brushed down his smart coat and breeches.
Where had his hat got to? He couldn’t find it.
Damn it. He pulled out his fob watch and consulted its face but could barely see that, either.
No time to waste looking for his dratted hat.
He was already later than he’d wanted to be, and if he took any longer Juliet might give up on him and retreat back inside Larkford Hall.
Now somewhat dirty from his facer in what could only have been described as wet mud, Rupert continued on his way, trying to be more careful where he walked.
He had an uncomfortable feeling that he no longer resembled the dashing figure he’d admired in his mirror before setting out.
But Juliet wouldn’t mind. She wasn’t the sort of girl to upbraid a fellow for a few mud stains on his knees.
No. She was the sort for whom everything was an adventure, as tonight would be.
His head filled with the glorious image of her as he’d first seen her, urging her horse to cross the rather swollen waters of the river that separated his estate from her brother’s.
His heart had been in his mouth as he watched from within the trees on his side of the river, but she’d not faltered once.
Only when she was across had he emerged from his hiding place to accost her.
“You know this is private land, don’t you?”
She’d wrinkled her delightfully pert nose and her challenging dark eyes had flashed at him.
“And if it is, what does that matter to you? I only want to gallop up to the Downs, and on my side of the river it would take me much longer to get there and is not nearly such a good galloping path.” She’d dimpled at him and batted her thick eyelashes, and he’d been lost. “You wouldn’t begrudge me my enjoyment, would you? ”
Of course he wouldn’t have. So instead, they’d ridden up the long, dewy grass track at breakneck speed in a race which she’d won, and then ridden all morning on the very top of the Downs with nothing but the fat sheep and wheeling skylarks for company.
It was only as they were riding back down, their horses sweaty and blowing, that he’d thought to ask her name. She’d smiled. “Juliet. Juliet de Vere.”
And he’d realized.
“What’s your name?” she’d asked in return, but he’d muttered only, “Rupert,” and not expanded further.
Slap, an unseen branch hit him in the face and woke him from his ill-timed reverie.
He swiped it out of the way in annoyance, kept going by the knowledge that she would never have allowed such minor adversities to put her off.
But still…he now had a cut on his left cheek that felt as though it might be bleeding.
The trees ahead of him thinned and moonlight filtered into the woodland, the better to show him his way.
More by luck than anything else he found he’d been stumbling along the correct path.
Across the open parkland ahead of him stood the ancient, historic edifice of Larkford Hall, Juliet’s home up until tonight.
Glancing about himself with all the furtiveness of a prospective burglar, Rupert emerged from the shelter of the trees and sprinted across the open to where a large cedar tree offered some protection.
Not, he thought, that anyone at the Hall would be up at this godforsaken hour of the morning.
A glance at his fob watch showed him it was a little after three, and he was a good ten minutes late for his rendezvous with his beloved.