7. Chapter 7
Algenon pushed his mount far faster than he should have. Poor Sterling was getting too old for such bruising rides. When they reached the last of the Blackthorn fields, Algenon reined him in, allowing the dappled grey stallion to slow to a trot and eventually walk.
Reaching forward, he gave him a firm pat on the neck. “Good boy, Sterling. I can always count on you to give me your all.”
The stallion shook his head, blowing air out of his nose.
The poor horse quivered the slightest bit.
This would definitely need to be their last hard ride.
It was time to move on to a new mount and allow Sterling to retire to a younger set of riders.
Age had mellowed him quite nicely and Algenon was certain he’d make a decent mount for Wilhelmina or maybe Frances.
At twelve and nine, they’d soon be able to move up to full size horses, their ponies being rather small for growing girls.
Edwina had already inherited Charlotte’s old mare, Dela, last year when Sterling and Dela’s foal had grown old enough for Charlotte to ride.
Algenon supposed it was time for him to choose a mount from Sterling’s prized offspring.
There were several that might do, but he wasn’t certain which would have adequate training to handle London’s chaos.
His father had already taken the mare he’d intended to use as his next mount.
He scowled. That one action resembled his interactions with his father his entire life. He’d find something he liked and somehow the mighty Lord Roberts would find a way to take it from him. Currently, it was his freedom.
It had been three days since the Harvest Ball and already his father and Lord Falcross were openly discussing wedding contracts. Not that they could force him to sign them. The law prevented that, but Algenon feared stretching his father’s patience too far.
Moving the reins to the right, he turned Sterling back toward the house. Lord Falcross and Miss Weston were leaving today. A short reprieve before he would see them again next week in London.
The season was convening earlier than last year due to the general election—a result of the previous prime minister’s assassination this spring and Lord Liverpool’s subsequent royal appointment.
Honestly, it could not come soon enough.
Algenon craved the distance Town created between him and his father.
A strange occurrence considering they lived in the same house.
But Society had a strong pull on them both, making it easy to avoid one another, especially since his father would be busy launching Phillipa on Society.
The steady beat of hooves drew his attention as a horse approached from the direction of the house.
“The stablemaster said I might find you here,” Nate called as he approached.
“I might need to replace the man if he gives away my location to any shady character that comes calling.”
Nate grinned as he turned his horse to walk in the same direction as Algenon’s. “He is a bit too trusting. I could have been a highwayman come to rob you, and he just pointed right in your direction with the brush he was using to groom that pretty grey filly you refuse to sell to me.”
“If I sold you Mariposa, it would be highway robbery. You know she’s meant for someone else.”
“Ah yes, the mysterious someone else. Are you ever going to give me their name or do I have to keep wondering if you’re making up a fictitious person because you want her for yourself?”
Algenon lifted a smug eyebrow and pressed his lips together. He had no intention of ever telling anyone who the filly was for until the gift had been given. Partly because he knew his father would object, and partly because the gift would be utterly scandalous.
At a little over two years, it would still be several more months before any saddle training could be done—time he had hoped he’d have to figure out a solution to his problems. Now, Mariposa would likely be given as a bittersweet goodbye.
The thought sobered him. “What really brings you to Blackthorn, Nate?”
“I came to save you from an overly emotional farewell visit to Havencrest before you leave for Town.”
Algenon grinned. “Yes, you would not wish Melior to see you cry.”
Nate’s head jerked back, a mock look of offense pulling at his mouth as the wind fluttered the tips of the brown hair that poked out from under his top hat. “Not me. You, you dolt.”
Algenon chuckled. Leave it to his friend to lighten his dark thoughts. After a moment he asked, “How is Melior faring?”
Nate sighed. “As well as can be expected. She is far more ill this time, which I didn’t think was possible, but she rarely leaves her bed.”
“Is she ill in body or in mind?”
“Both, I think. She cannot help but worry.” Nate frowned, his brow furrowing as his eyes pinched.
“And you cannot help but worry as well, I think.”
Nate turned his gaze fully forward, his lips firmly closed. The loss of Melior and Nate’s first child had weighed hard on them; it was no wonder they had chosen to stay at home this season.
“Has Eddie shared his news?” Nate asked quietly.
Algenon tightened his grip on the reins. “You mean that he is also not returning to London this season?”
“No, that Livy is also in the family way.”
A strange burning filled Algenon’s chest, and he pulled Sterling to a stop.
It took Nate several more steps before he did the same. “Al?”
He didn’t answer as he stared into the distance.
“Are you well?”
Algenon finally looked at him. “I am not certain. I am happy for them, and you as well, but I believe I might be jealous.”
Nate smiled. “Jealous? The great Algenon Roberts, accomplished flirt whom all the ladies of London love? Never.”
“Twit me all you want, but you have something I never shall.”
“And what is that?”
“Familial joy.”
Nate’s grin faded. “I know your father is a difficult man, but you will have your own family one day.”
“Not of my choosing.” Algenon dropped his gaze to the browning grass below his horse’s feet. Like the rapidly cooling weather’s cruel hand on the surrounding plants, his father’s heavy hand was killing his dreams and making them as brown and brittle as the dried grass.
He had yet to tell the rest of his friends about his father’s interference, knowing it would only cause more distress. They had their own problems and apparent joys. He didn’t want to disrupt that.
But he also could not see any other choice but to agree to this disastrous arrangement, if only to save Javenia from any further harm.
“What do you mean, not of your choosing? Did something happen?”
“Yes, something happened. I was born to a stubborn man that holds my every move captive with either money or social ruin.”
Nate let out a long, slow breath. “I do not understand your father. He is amiable enough in company, but what does he have against allowing you to choose your way in life? You are an intelligent man with more knowledge of the running of his estates than even he has. I have watched the way he foists all his duties on you like you are his steward. You would make a brilliant match if left to your own devices.”
“Just not the one he wants.” Algenon nudged Sterling back into motion.
Nate did the same with his horse. “Might I assume that he intends for you to marry Miss Weston?”
Algenon’s jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed.
“I will take that as a yes,” Nate said.
The horses walked for several minutes, a tense silence settling between the riders. Everything inside Algenon screamed in protest. His heart threw a veritable fit like a toddler who had not gotten the sweet he wanted. He didn’t want to capitulate to his father’s demands, but what else was there?
“Lord Falcross is determined to have me as a son-in-law. A strange desire considering I am not equal to his daughter’s standing in Society.”
Nate nodded mutely as he inspected the reins in his hand.
Algenon took that as his cue to continue. “Eventually, I will have to accept.”
Nate’s head jerked up, his eyes wide. “What the devil! You will do no such thing. Miss Weston would make you miserable. She’s so, so…”
“Arrogant, self-absorbed, spiteful, fickle, and faithless? Yes, I know.”
“You would never know if the children she birthed are yours.”
That was far more candid than Algenon had expected.
He’d worried about the same thing. Miss Weston came with a certain reputation, one not as spotless as she tried to portray.
That Society had simply overlooked her indiscretions was a testament to the power her father held.
Close familial connection to a duke and an earl had probably helped.
Which again made him wonder, why him?
“I have no other choice, Nate.”
“Yes, you do. None of us are blind, even if we pretend to be for your sake. Swallow your pride and beg Javenia to marry you. Your father can’t force your hand if you are already married.”
Algenon let out a mirthless laugh. “And if I do, I’ll lose my income. Remember, Lord Roberts is nothing if not thorough.”
“You have the cottage in Essex and Javenia’s dowry.”
“Ah yes, she’d absolutely love having a fortune hunter for a husband. I can just see it now. ‘Hey, Javenia, why not make a match of it, but you will have to have coin for the bills.’ Do you think she would esteem me after such a request?”
“Yes.” Nate held his gaze, not blinking.
The intensity of his stare made Algenon’s resolve quiver. Nate had known Javenia as long as he had. Did he really think her feelings ran that deep?
Algenon adjusted in the saddle, breaking the unsettling contact. He dropped his chin, staring at the ground moving beneath him. “Even if she would, there are other”—he cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully—“impediments to a union between us.”
“Like what?”
This was the conversation Algenon did not want to have. It was the whole reason he’d avoided any discussion on the topic for years. Better not to wander into forbidden subjects than to dance around them until he slipped up.
Now what?