Chapter Sixteen
She kissed me.
Seth had been grinning like a schoolboy all morning.
He could pursue Cassandra properly now that he knew she had feelings for him.
Maybe not love, but a flame was lit between them, one he could kindle if he played his cards right.
He wanted a life with her. To start his mornings with her smile and return home to her in the evenings, where he could kiss her, hold her, love her, and give her children.
As many as she wanted, and how he would enjoy trying.
With courtship in mind, he stopped by the kitchen on his way to the stables to send Trevor on an errand.
As much as he hadn’t liked the idea at first, there was merit in having an extra set of hands to do his bidding.
After, Seth spent the morning with Cooper, racing horses on Lord Bolderwood’s track.
Cooper wanted to work on his riding skills, Seth needed to ride off excess energy, and of course, Sabre hadn’t objected in the slightest.
“What about when we win?” Cooper asked again, dismounting in front of the stables. He handed the reins off to a stable hand and faced Seth. “Nothing can tempt you to stay in London? We could raise a stir, you and I, two worldly rakes! The city will be ours for the taking.”
“You aren’t worldly, and neither of us are rakes.
” Seth used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow, squinting in the mid-morning sun.
During his travels, there was no shortage of foreign women who wanted to spend their evening with a British soldier, but none of them spurred him on like Cassandra had last night.
Being a rake meant spending his time with other women, but he only wanted one.
He wanted to be a husband to Cassandra Cooper.
No.
Cassandra Reeves.
His face could have split open with the force of his grin.
Cooper nudged Seth’s arm with his elbow. “Come now, don’t make me navigate high society alone.”
“Win or lose, I’m done with high society, my lord,” Seth drawled. “All I need is an open sky and a house in the country.” With Cassandra in my bed. His mouth curved upwards once more. “And maybe some other flexible variables.”
“You and your flexible variables, Reeves.” Cooper rolled his eyes. “What you need is a wife.”
“What you need is a wife,” Seth parried. “Someone to manage your estate so you can let your sister marry.”
Cooper paused a few paces from the manor and turned to him with a serious expression.
“Managing the estate isn’t the only reason I keep Cassandra around, though I’ll admit she’s better at it than I am.
” He released an appreciative sigh before furrowing his brows.
“It’s selfish, but I want to keep my sisters with me for as long as possible. ”
“You can’t keep them with you forever.” Seth looked at his feet.
“Yes, I can.” Cooper’s tone was firm, and then softened. “Thanks to you. You saved Cassandra’s life. I owe you.”
Seth shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“No. I do. Anything you want, name it.”
“Anything?” Seth whispered.
There would never be a good time, and now was as good a time as any.
“Cooper,” Seth started, but as he opened his mouth, his tongue tied. He swallowed past the dryness in his throat. Heart beating frantically, sweat formed in his palms, his fingers twitched as he berated himself to ask for Cooper’s blessing.
One simple question! One sentence! Good God, he went to war!
The taller man quirked a brow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, staring him down. “Come on, Reeves, out with it!”
Seth took a steadying breath. “I would like to ask for—”
“Mr. Reeves!” A voice called out from the doorway to the manor. Seth turned to see Mr. Sanderson jogging toward them.
“Viscount Lincolnshire, Mr. Reeves. Good morning to the both of you,” he greeted, and then turned to Seth. “Lord Bolderwood has requested to speak with you. Perhaps we could converse along the way?”
Cooper pointed to his own chest. “Me too?”
“Ah. No,” Mr. Sanderson said, glancing awkwardly between the two men. “It appears to be a personal matter.”
“And he tasks it to a stranger.” Seth huffed. “Go on ahead, Cooper. I’ll catch up with you.”
Cooper shrugged. “We’ll discuss what you want later. Don’t think I’ll let you off the hook!”
No, Seth thought with a grimace. I don’t imagine you will.
Hidden giggles floated behind him as he followed Mr. Sanderson to Lord Bolderwood’s study.
Seth narrowed his eyes, put off by his newfound popularity.
Public opinion of him had changed overnight.
Saving a woman from a high-speed horse chase had earned respect from the gentlemen of the party, and attracted the attention of ladies, married and unmarried alike.
“How long have you known the Earl?” Seth asked.
“We are recently acquainted,” Mr. Sanderson said. “He’s a remarkable man.”
Remarkable. Seth wanted to scoff, but he knew how Lord Bolderwood presented himself. Even he had admired him at one point.
“Because of the contest?”
“Circumstance.” Mr. Sanderson flipped over the comment and changed the subject. “The telescope. Did you invent it, or the Viscount? With your background, I’m sure you have ideas on how it could be improved.”
“I don’t talk about business without my partner present,” Seth bit out, not appreciating how Mr. Sanderson kept fishing for sensitive information.
“Not questioning, commenting. A man with your talents could make a name for himself as a manufacturer.”
“Making a name for myself has never been an interest of mine.”
“Surprising words from the Gallant Captain Reeves.”
Seth shot him a side-glance. “Not you, too.”
“I’m not too proud to admit that I have the complete set.” Mr. Sanderson laughed. Stopping in front of Lord Bolderwood’s study, he said, “We’ll talk, before all of this is finished. Ah, but don’t let me keep you. He’s in a foul mood.”
“He’s always in a foul mood,” Seth grumbled.
Being called into Lord Bolderwood’s office used to terrify Seth.
Half expecting to see iron chains and shackles attached to the blood red walls, he felt as if he were one in a long line of lambs brought in to be slaughtered.
Behind the older man stood more window than wall.
The morning sun providing the only light in the room, shining through innocently, casting shadows on the man’s face and a desk made from ebony, imported from South Africa.
Two black leather high-backed chairs sat on either side, one a half size larger, specially made for the Earl’s stout frame.
Seth’s eyes focused on the center of the desk, where The Bible laid open on the page of the telescope.
Glaring at Lord Bolderwood, Seth fought the urge to snatch the folio from the desk and leave. The Earl noted Seth’s indignation and raised a condescending eyebrow.
“You think I don’t know about your hiding spots?” Lord Bolderwood gestured to the empty chair. With a gruff voice, he said, “Take a seat.”
Here it comes.
“Yes, my lord.”
Seth sat in the chair as instructed, prickling at the sense of powerlessness that overcame him. Nonsense, his mind supplied. I’m not a prisoner here any longer. I can leave whenever I want.
“Why didn’t you return to Hampshire when I summoned you?” Lord Bolderwood asked. “You should have come home once you recovered.”
“I don’t respond to summons anymore.” Seth kept his face impassive. “And this isn’t my home.”
Lord knows it never felt like one.
“No, that’s Cooper House now, isn’t it? I never should have allowed you to spend time there.
The Cooper’s made you weak. Their children are worse, having you waste your talents playing gunsmith in a barn.
” Lord Bolderwood scoffed. “Imagine my surprise to see your name on a list of contenders. If you had come to me, I would have given you all the resources you required.”
“I don’t need anything from you,” Seth spat.
“When you lose this contest, you’ll need employment.”
Seth didn’t hesitate.
“No.”
“You came here with the expectation that I would offer this to you.”
“I came here with the expectation that I would win.”
“Do you still hold that expectation?”
“It’s anyone’s game.” Seth narrowed his eyes.
The Hunting Party coincided with Ringwood’s annual harvest festival that would entertain the guests the next day.
After, all that remained was the pigeon shooting competition to take place at the end of the stay.
“His Grace has already expressed an interest, and as long as we continue to follow the rules—”
Lord Bolderwood’s harsh laugh stopped him.
“Does Duke Kendall seem like a man willing to play by rules?” He scoffed again. “I taught you better than that. In the end, the Duke will choose whichever rifle fits his fleeting interests. I can guarantee you that it won’t be yours.”
Feeling his temperature rising, Seth dug his fingernails into the arms of the chair to force himself to remain seated.
He’s wrong, he thought, even as the logical part of his mind said otherwise.
Everyone looked at him and Cooper like they were a joke.
But the laughs and disdain that greeted their arrival had faded, replaced with comments on how the guests never saw it coming, wouldn’t have believed it if they hadn’t seen it, wanted one in each hunting lodge.
They didn’t need to win the contest; they needed to impress the right aristocrat.
“If we lose, Cooper and I are willing to sell the designs for the rifle and the telescope.”
Lord Bolderwood shook his head once, lips in a firm line.
“It doesn’t matter if you can shoot five hundred yards, you won’t find a buyer. Your design is crude, but it can be refined. I’ve perused your folio.” He closed The Bible and edged it closer to Seth. “I’m not interested in the rifle as it stands. I want the future generations.”
“No.”
“You made a weapon of war, and you turn down the opportunity for it to be used?”
“I won’t work for you.”
“Stop wasting your time, your potential, and serve your country!”