Chapter 2
The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon, softening the outlines of the paddock as Lord Ambrose Filch, the Duke of Stormhaven, looked up from his leatherbound journal.
His short-cropped dark hair was neatly combed to the side, evidence of his attention to detail despite the long day. His muscular frame cast shadows across the green grass of the paddock.
“You are out late this evening.” Adrian St. Clair came striding toward him, his light red hair shining in the last rays of the sun.
Ambrose snapped the journal shut and gave the horses one final count before turning to his friend. “Ambrose, this is what happens when one actually works for a living. The horses need careful care rather than glasses of brandy at White’s.” Ambrose’s brows shot up with accusation.
Adrian chuckled deep from within his chest as he stopped beside his friend.
He propped his dirty riding boot up on the paddock fence as he surveyed the stallions in the field.
“Not all of us have the pleasure of being a duke, Your Grace. Some of us had to settle for being the second son of an earl.”
Regarding his friend for a moment, Ambrose thought of all the times at Eaton when they had been there for each other.
As the second son of an earl with no title of his own to inherit, Adrian had been through more mocking and teasing than anyone could have endured. Yet the man had still somehow emerged on the other side with a dream of his own to help run some of his father’s businesses.
It always amazed Ambrose how his friend could see the brighter side of life, no matter what he went through.
He shook his head before Ambrose turned back to his friend and set his gaze on his prized stallion with its shiny black coat and thick neck. Acheron was the horse that would revolutionize horse breeding in London if he could only find the right mare.
“You know, Your Grace, if you stare at that stallion any longer, he might think you are in love with him,” Adrian’s voice carried a lilt of amusement as the corner of his mouth hooked into a smirk.
Rolling his eyes, Ambrose shook his head. “Horse breeding is no laughing matter, Adrian. A healthy horse can mean the difference between a man’s livelihood and his ruin,” he nodded toward the stallion in the distance. “Acheron here is worth far more than most people’s yearly wages.”
Adrian turned away from the paddock and leaned back on the fence, laughing once again from deep within his chest. “That may be so, but does the horse know that? He seems rather unimpressed by your scrutiny. Perhaps you should offer him some oats rather than your stern gaze.” He threw his head back and laughed freely from the pit of his stomach.
Not wanting to entertain the conversation any longer, Ambrose turned away from him and began to walk back to the stables with his journal in hand.
Running to keep up, Adrian quickly came to his side once again. “You know, Your Grace, you will never find a wife if you do not learn how to take a joke.”
“And you will never find a wife if you do not learn how to take matters more seriously in life,” Ambrose countered while opening his journal again and scrutinizing his day’s work.
“Rules, rules, rules,” Adrian complained, rolling his eyes in the same manner as Ambrose had done. “Do you honestly never grow tired of all these rules and obligations?” He hurried to keep up with Ambrose’s lengthy strides as they entered the stables.
“Rules are what make the world function, Adrian. None of this would be possible if there were no order in life. I have to run a tight ship to gain the best results.” Ambrose gestured to the neat stables where not so much as a single piece of straw was out of place in the aisle between the stalls.
Waiting for Ambrose to make his next move, Adrian crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against a stall.
“That is all well and good, but what of passion and love? Surely you cannot be satisfied with just the running of your estate and the broody horses in the fields? I cannot imagine a world where love does not at least have a fighting chance.”
“Forgive me if I do not take your words too seriously, Adrian, but you fall in love every fortnight. You are hardly the person to be preaching on the matter.” Ambrose snapped his notebook shut once again and handed it to Adrian before rolling up his sleeves and entering the stall of a chestnut stud.
The horse flicked its tail, looking up only for a moment to acknowledge his presence before dropping its head once again and chewing on a bale of hay.
Adrian sighed heavily despite the faint smile that touched his lips while Ambrose began to examine the horse.
“Ah, yes. I must confess that I do fall in love rather easily, but one day, it will all be real. One day I will find the woman of my dreams, and she will make me the happiest man alive,” he said almost dreamily.
“And for that, you are a fool. Love is nothing but a silly notion invented by bored ladies to pass the time. Which brings me back to my original concern. You need to occupy your time with more than drinking and flirting with young women,” Ambrose mused while examining the stallion’s hooves and then moving onto its teeth.
“A fool I may be, but better a fool than a cynic,” Adrian responded firmly. “Have you never thought of marrying again after what happened with Lady Farichild? Surely you wish to fall in love again.” Adrian followed him again as Ambrose moved onto the next stall.
Allowing the question to hang in the air, Ambrose began to examine the dappled gray mare, yet his thoughts were far away from the task at hand.
Vivienne.
It had been two years since he had thought of the woman who had been his betrothed.
He had not been in love with her, yet it had wounded him deeply when her affections had turned to another man.
Love was nothing more than a practical arrangement to Ambrose, yet it had still stung when the engagement had fallen through.
Vivienne Fairchild had been the daughter of a duke. They had been matched perfectly in rank and ambition, yet nothing else in their lives seemed to have been on the same path.
“I was never in love with Vivienne,” Ambrose finally confessed when the question still hung in the air. “Our arrangement was nothing more than what was right. She broke the order of things when she called the matter off.”
Adrian almost choked as he scoffed. “Practicality? Is that truly all that matters to you? Surely you must have thought more of the young lady than the practicality of the arrangement? She was quite a beautiful young woman.”
“And what does beauty have to do with being the wife of a duke or even running an estate? I would have been far more impressed if she could tell the difference between a stud and a gelding.” It was Ambrose’s turn to smirk at his own joke.
“To be perfectly honest, I am not certain that I even know the difference between a stud and a gelding.” Adrian furrowed his brow into a frown.
Ambrose decided to let the matter rest as he lifted his brows. “That is beside the point. It is better to marry for duty rather than love. Duty is the backbone of society, while love is a fleeting fantasy.”
“Spoken like a true cynic,” Adrian mused. “But what if love finds you? Will you still treat it as if it were a disease to be avoided?”
“I highly doubt that something that does not exist will be able to find me.” Ambrose cocked his head to the side and exited the stall before making his way over to a pail of fresh water and washing his hands.
Adrian waited for the duke to finish drying his hands before handing him back the journal. “Then I suppose that you should not care that Lady Fairchild is back in London after a lengthy absence?”
“No, I should not care,” Ambrose answered a little too sharply.
Adrian raised his hands in mock surrender as he took a step back. “I just thought you would like to know in case you bumped into her. It would make matters a great deal easier if you were already courting another bride.”
“Not that it matters, but the courting situation has been settled, or rather, who I shall be courting and then marrying,” he said matter-of-factly.
Adrian looked up sharply as if he had been slapped. “And you have waited to tell me this until now?!” His jaw practically hung open as he gaped at the duke.
Ambrose nodded. “It is an old debt that needs to be repaid.”
“You cannot simply drop that information on me and expect me not to ask any questions.” Adrian seemed to quickly come to his senses. “Who is she, and what do you mean it is an old debt that needs to be repaid?”
Taking a moment to compose himself, Ambrose began to walk back toward the house with Adrian at his side.
“It was an old arrangement that I had almost completely forgotten about. The former Earl of Mortimer incurred a shocking amount of debt after borrowing some money from my estate. Unable to repay the debts, he promised me his only daughter’s hand in marriage.
I never intended on following through, as I suspect the young woman in question is blissfully unaware of her father’s folly. ”
“Then why are you following through?” Adrian asked with a genuine note of curiosity in his voice.
“Her brother, the current earl, seems to have been made aware of the promise and feels that it is his duty to honor the agreement,” Ambrose explained.
Adrian shook his head as he let out a low whistle. “The poor girl, I suspect that things will come as quite a shock to her. Do you know anything about her or even her reputation?”
Ambrose paused for a moment as he looked up at the large house in the distance.
The Stormhaven estate was a grand house with many rooms and enough splendor to please the King and Queen themselves.
It would require a like-minded individual to keep up the running of the house.
“I know her name…Lady Evelina Mortimer. She has a bit of a reputation for being unconventional and independent, but that is of little concern as the arrangement remains.”
Slowing his pace, Adrian narrowed his eyes. “Do you truly believe that her reputation is of little consequence?”
Ambrose remained unshaken. “Yes, the marriage will be nothing more than a business arrangement. From what I understand, she needs a husband, and duty dictates that I marry. Beyond that arrangement, I expect nothing more from her.”
“That does seem awfully cold, Your Grace, but who knows? Perhaps her unconventional ways will thaw your heart and finally teach you how to love.” Adrian seemed hopeful as the dreamy lilt returned to his voice.
It was Ambrose’s turn to laugh out loud as he shook his head. “Will you ever stop living with your head in the clouds? Love simply does not exist. She would have to perform quite the miracle to make me believe.”
Adrian shrugged. “I do not know, Your Grace. Miracles happen all the time. She might just be the one to thaw the ice. Only time will tell.”
“The only thing that time will tell is the fact that you are a helpless fool. There is no woman on earth who possesses the power to change what I know to be true.”