Chapter Twenty-Three
LADY HIGHLEY WAS SPENDING the afternoon in Dominic’s room.
Brooke was spending the afternoon in hers, pacing close to the wall that separated her room from his, trying to hear what they were saying.
After taking care of Dominic all week, it annoyed her that he could so quickly turn his attentions to another woman.
Now she understood why her brother had told her parents in that conversation she’d eavesdropped on that “the wolf won’t accept her.
” It was because Dominic was used to being with beautiful, sophisticated women.
She was neither beautiful nor sophisticated, just a constant, blatant reminder of his sister’s death and always would be.
It was still possible that he would fail to comply with the Regent’s demand and simply tell her to get out.
He could probably do so and manage to hold on to a least one of those family enterprises he’d mentioned.
The coal mines or the shipping business alone would still make him a rich man.
Maybe he’d already sent off a missive to the Prince to suggest it?
Or that harlot might put the idea in his head today . . .
Brooke glanced down at her fingernails and pictured what she’d like to do with them right now.
Then she pressed her ear to the wall again.
Still no sounds in his room. They might as well be whispering—or doing something that didn’t require words.
That thought sent her out for a good gallop before the dinner hour.
When she got to the stable, she found that Wolf had finally got around to searching for the cat he’d smelled on her. He was standing in front of the door barking, his hair bristled straight up, while Raston sat just inside calmly grooming a paw—or sharpening his nails.
Arnold’s approach shooed the cat back up to the rafters. The dog charged in, trying to give chase, but that wasn’t going to happen. Brooke said a few commiserating words as she stopped beside the dog and tried to rub him behind his ears, but he wasn’t interested.
“He’ll give up shortly, so don’t be worrying about the cat,” Arnold said.
Brooke grinned slightly. “I’m more worried about Wolf. Raston can be nasty in a fight.”
“I’ll send for Gabe to take the dog back to the house.
” Then Arnold surprised her with a request. “Royal fancies your Rebel, m’lady.
But no one fancies giving that brute the exercise he needs while his lordship recovers.
Royal barely tolerates me grooming and saddling him and lets no one on his back except Lord Dominic.
Would you mind if Peter rides your mare along the fence between the pastures?
We’re hoping Royal will give chase or at least keep pace. ”
“I could try to ride him.” The elderly groom looked so appalled, she quickly amended, “Never mind. Go ahead and give it a try when I get back from my ride today.”
“Don’t be gone too long, m’lady. My wife saw two rings around the moon last night, which foretells the coming of a wicked storm.
It was just such a stormy day some hundred years ago that the eldest Wolfe daughter met her death.
Whether it was the curse or just an accident that her carriage slid off an embankment in a rainstorm, no one knows. ”
She stared at Arnold. Was he that superstitious? Were all the villagers? That would explain why rumors of that silly curse had persisted for hundreds of years, and why the wolf-man rumor had started, too.
Brooke smiled politely, though she was skeptical that it would rain today since the sun was shining and the clouds weren’t at all dark. Alfreda also often predicted rain that never came.
But having just spoken of the two horses that obviously wanted to breed with each other, Brooke thought it was a good time to mention one of her goals. “I wouldn’t mind if you pastured Rebel and Royal together for a spell.”
Arnold’s face reddened. “I would, but Royal is a champion racer. His get is worth thousands of pounds. He’s actually not been bred since his lordship began breeding stock for the army. But you might discuss that with him after you marry.”
Everyone else assumed there was going to be a marriage.
Only the bride and groom were still holding out hope that there wouldn’t be.
Reminded that Dominic was at that moment working on his latest tactic to get her to leave, she didn’t set off at a trot when Rebel was saddled for her, she raced away at a full gallop.
She rode northwest this time, away from the roads.
She passed several plowed fields where crops were already growing.
Farms dotted the area north and south of the village.
There was even a cultivated orchard with fruit trees lined up in rows.
She passed only one sheep farm, though. Dominic had said he had tenants, so he owned the land but let the people who lived on it do what they wanted with it?
She thought about visiting the village, which was so picturesque from a distance, but she wasn’t in a friendly mood today, so she rode on.
The Yorkshire countryside was so beautiful, and she enjoyed feeling the warm wind whip through her hair as she galloped across the land. She liked the landscape here better than in Leicestershire for some reason.
Maybe because it was wilder, the terrain alternating between farmland and barren moors. Or maybe she simply liked it because it was so far away from her family.
Even though she was dealing with a churlish, impossible viscount, she felt freer here. But what if Dominic had his way and she would have to leave soon? She decided to take this opportunity to ride farther than she’d intended, to see more of Yorkshire while she still could.
She was surprised to come upon a herd of cattle, one of the long-haired Scottish breeds mixed with some stout Angus stock. The people here were so self-sufficient, growing or breeding everything needed for the pantry.
She crossed a creek, but farther north it widened considerably, becoming a river.
She paused to watch the rushing water and wondered if the fish she’d had for dinner the other night came from this river.
She continued on, then veered toward a lone sheep she spotted in the distance.
When she got closer, she realized it was a dog, a rather big dog.
She reined in, but was curious enough to trot forward a little more.
No dwelling was nearby from which the dog might have wandered away, nothing habitable this far north in any direction that she could see, just the ruins of another of those small castles to the north, this one with only a few walls left standing, so not worth investigating. She wondered if the dog was lost.
Rebel refused to get any closer to the animal, so Brooke dismounted and hobbled the mare’s legs so she wouldn’t run off.
The dog didn’t shy away as she approached; it just sat next to a large grassy mound watching her.
It resembled Dominic’s dog but was bigger and mostly white with a few streaks of gray on its back, which was why from a distance she’d thought it was a lost sheep.
It was beautiful, actually, face all white except for a thick border of black around the eyes, which were so pale they looked white as well.
Four feet away from it, she held out a hand so the dog could sniff it, but it didn’t approach her and she didn’t go any closer to it either.
Trying to make friends with a dog this big might not be her brightest idea.
But someone owned this animal. It didn’t seem feral.
It was too calm, too curious. Then it raised its nose as if sniffing the air.
Had it caught the scent of Dominic’s dog on her hand?
The dog suddenly let loose a mournful howl. Brooke shivered and nervously stepped back, then stepped back again when the dog stood up. “Well, you probably know—”
She paused when it whined and flicked its ears.
She had the incredible thought that it had never heard a human voice before.
That was highly unlikely, so she started talking again.
“You probably know how to find your way home better’n I do.
Or you could follow me. As pretty as you are, someone at Rothdale likely knows who you belong to. ”
She turned about and rushed back to Rebel.
Mounted again, she felt much safer and glanced back at the dog—if it was a dog.
It was certainly big enough to be a wolf.
But she quickly dismissed that notion, not only because wolves were extinct in England, but because this animal wasn’t the least bit wild or threatening as a wolf would surely be.
The dog sat down again and was still watching her.
She wished she had something on her to feed it, but all she had was the one carrot she’d brought for Royal, who hadn’t come to the fence to get the treat.
She dug it out of her pocket and tossed it halfway to the dog.
She had no idea if it would eat a carrot.
Maybe she should try giving one to Dominic’s dog later to find out.
Riding away, she glanced back over her shoulder one last time. The animal still hadn’t moved, but it did howl again. She shook off a shiver and urged Rebel to a fast gallop.