The Romany Heiress (10 page)

What did she know? He regretted putting her room
so close to his own chambers. She was three doors
down from him. It was not entirely out of the realm of
possibility that she’d heard or seen Cate walk down the
hall last night. However, that assumption could also be
putting the cart before the proverbial horse. She might
not have seen anything more than him helping Cate
down from the curricle and his indiscretion there, slight
as it was.

He was saved from answering by the timely intervention of Alain and Cecile, who fairly swooped down
on them, irrevocably disrupting the conversation.

“Giles, I want to find Cecile a nice, docile mare. You
must come and tell me who the best horse sellers are,”
Alain said congenially with a wide grin that implied he
knew exactly what he had done.

“Spelthorne, go on with your friend,” Candice waved
her hand magnanimously. “It will give me a chance to
get to know your cousin better.”

Giles blanched. He had not expected this turn of
events. Cecile saved him with a Gallic pout. “Oh, I was
so hoping Lady Cate would help me select some lace
from the vendors” She turned exclusively to Cate. “I’ve
been admiring the lace fall on your sleeves, and I thought
you could offer suggestions.”

“I would be delighted.” Cate crooked her arm through
Cecile’s and began chattering at once, pausing after
she’d walked a few yards to look over her shoulder as an
afterthought and say, “Perhaps another time, Lady FoxHaughton?”

Giles breathed easier knowing Cate was safely ensconced within Isabella and Cecile’s protection. They
wouldn’t let Candice within fifty yards of her. Despising
Candice as they did, the two of them enjoyed thwarting
her efforts on any level. It would be a great relief to
know Cate was with them as long as Tristan hadn’t
tipped off her identity to Isabella.

“What do you see in her?” Alain asked as they
moved off to view the horse stalls.

“She has a somewhat substantiated claim to Spelthorne
Abbey,” Giles said. “I’d rather keep her close than let her
alone to sow trouble” His eyes followed the women at the
vending stalls in the distance.

“No. Not her. I meant Lady FoxHaughton. None of
us can stand her. Does she think you’ll propose? She
acts as if it’s fait accompli.”

“She and I have an understanding of convenience.
After all, I’m not likely to find another hostess with her
skills and entree. It’s a very practical arrangement. If
she expects more, she’ll be disappointed, but I doubt
she does. She’s a practical woman who understands the
world.”

Alain snorted. “There’s no arguing that, Giles. She
understands the world well enough to know how much
she can accomplish for herself and how much she needs
a man to do the rest. Lady FoxHaughton is notoriously
ambitious and knows exactly what an upstanding peer
of your caliber can do for her political ambitions. She
wants to be the wife of a prime minister.”

Giles thrust his hands deep in his trouser pockets as
they sauntered. “Then she’ll be doubly disappointed in
me. On no front will I be able to please her.”

“Are you going to tell her about our Lady Cate?”

It was Giles’s turn to snort in disbelief. “What do you
think?”

“Right-o then,” Alain said somewhat awkwardly. “I
wouldn’t tell her either.”

Their arrival at the long length of rope stalls provided
an end to their conversation. A sorrel mare of medium
proportions whickered, drawing their attention. Alain
went to it and lay a soothing hand on her long face,
crooning soft words as he gave the horse a cursory
once-over look.

“Just the sort of horse I was hoping to find for Cecile. She’s game enough to learn to ride but I think we
all terrify her with our big horses and hedge jumping.” Alain hunkered down to look at the horse’s legs, running an expert hand over the fetlocks, testing for damaged tendons.

The mare looked promising, and they told the owner they’d be back after they’d looked over the rest of
the stock.

It was half past one when they rejoined the group
from the house party, congregating under the shady
boughs of a spreading oak. Giles’s servants had arrived with picnic supplies and erected a large white
canopy and laid out a cold collation for his guests,
complete with ice cold lemonade for the ladies and ale
for the men. Everyone was in good spirits from the
food and morning well spent among the excitement of
a country fair.

He and Alain easily spotted Tristan and the ladies
and went to join them. Cate was chatting effortlessly
with Cecile and Isabella as Giles came up beside her.

“I see you found some lace” Giles nodded to the
brown paper-wrapped package in Cecile’s basket.

“Yes. I found the perfect trim.” Cecile’s sherry eyes
danced with mischief. “I also found the perfect length
of ribbon for Cate’s hair but she refused to purchase it.
I think you could persuade her, Giles. It would be the
ideal souvenir for your cousin so she would remember
her day at our little fair.”

Giles reprimanded himself inwardly. Of all the
things to forget! He’d not remembered she would need
some walking around money. A lady of even modest
station would have a few guineas in her reticule for such small purchases. Outwardly he smiled and gave a
small bow to Cecile. “After luncheon I am yours to
command. We shall go to the ribbon vendors and then
on to look at the mares Alain thought would be suitable
for you.”

“Spelthorne, darling, I’ve heard the most delectable
bit of news” Candice sailed up and inserted herself into
the group, making sure she wedged between he and
Cate. Giles felt instantly wary.

When she was certain she commanded everyone’s attention, she continued, “There’s to be races today. Some
of the horse sellers are eager to show off the quality of
the horse flesh” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I
know we can’t expect the quality of the thoroughbreds
we’re used to watching at Epsom or Newmarket, but
still the thought of races adds some excitement to the
day.” Candice turned to Cate. “Especially some excitement for you.”

Giles saw a dangerous spark light Cate’s green eyes.
“Why would that be, Lady FoxHaughton?” Her innocent tone boded ill for Candice. He wondered if Candice was aware of the pot she stirred.

The slight jerk of Candice’s head indicated she was
taken back by the directness of Cate’s question, but she
only hesitated for a moment. Her tone was pointed and
left no room for misinterpretation. “Because I am sure
you don’t get any such entertainments being tucked
away in the remote countryside as you are.”

The message was catty and clear, with no retort that
wouldn’t be outright provoking. For an awful moment, Giles feared Cate would not exercise restraint but Isabella intervened with a well-placed comment and
averted disaster.

“Are we ready to look at ribbons? I can’t eat another
bite.”

There was no shaking Candice after that. Instead of
spending the afternoon with some of her female contemporaries who had been invited to the party, Candice
insinuated herself into the ranks of Giles’s friends.
Technically, Giles could not fault her. She was his hostess, and it was assumed here as it was in London that
they were together.

She was putting that assumption on full display today,
Giles noted grimly as she doggedly clung to his right
arm, leaving Cate to become uncomfortably aware of the
odd number of women to men in their little group. But
Candice’s petty victory was short-lived. Giles smiled to
see that Cate refused to be intimidated by such maneuvering. His grin widened when Tristan deftly moved in to
offer his free arm to Cate, who declined it with a laugh.

“La! Moreland, you’re the devil to think to steal me
away from right under my cousin’s nose!” She used the
opportunity to link her arm through Giles’s left, much
to Candice’s chagrin.

Giles joined in with her jest. “It’s a good thing a
man’s got two arms when there’s so many pretty women
around.”

Outwardly they made a gay party, going from stall to
stall and exclaiming over the gewgaws on display, some
ranging from a milkmaid’s cheap fripperies to luxury items all the way from France brought to the fair particularly to catch the eye of a gentleman with means to afford such quality.

On Cecile’s recommendation, they bought cakes of
French milled soap. Giles had found it easy to purchase
the soap for his cousin, although he had not found it
easy to fathom the expression in her eyes when he’d
handed her the cakes, neatly wrapped in a square of
white cloth and tied with a lilac-colored ribbon.

At the ribbon stall, Cecile held up a narrow satin
length of cherry-colored ribbon. “There, it would be
perfect woven through your hair,” she said to Cate. “Do
persuade her, Giles. It would be perfect for the ball tomorrow night.”

The dratted ball to close the house party. He hadn’t
wanted one but Candice had insisted that an entertainment of this level would be incomplete without one.
Now it would be an exceedingly clumsy affair dancing
attendance, no humor intended, on his supposed cousin
and the jealous Candice.

“Cecile is right, you simply must have it.” Giles confirmed, reaching to hand the vendor the required coins.

“No, I couldn’t possibly accept it!” Cate protested.
“The soap is gift enough.”

Was that the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks?
She’d been remarkably self-assured the entire afternoon, even in the wake of Candice’s put-down. Giles exerted his considerable charm. “I will brook no refusal
on this, dear cousin. Soap will eventually melt away but
ribbon will last longer as a memento” He was conscious of the hard stare Candice gave him, but he did not waver
his gaze from Cate to return it.

They approached the line of horse stalls, and Giles
felt the tension growing on both sides of him; Candice
waiting for the right opportunity to pounce, and Cate
waiting to strike back. They’d become predatory animals, each stalking the other, and Giles didn’t like the
sensation it raised in him. He was quite aware that he
was the prize in this hunt.

“I think either the sorrel mare or this brown are your
best choices,” Alain told his wife. “Was there another
horse that caught your eye?” He asked when Cecile
didn’t immediately respond.

“What about that one?” Cecile pointed to a chestnut
gelding further down the line. The horse was stocky,
maybe fourteen hands high, not much bigger than a pony,
with a broad chest. His smaller size was thoroughly pronounced against the larger stature of the other horses surrounding him. Additionally, his face looked forlorn, and
when he turned his big brown horsey eyes their direction,
Alain groaned.

“You are too softhearted, my dear. That horse is appealing to your emotions.” Nonetheless, the group moved
towards the gelding to take a closer look. Alain grabbed
the bridle and pulled back the horse’s lips to see his teeth
while Tristan checked the legs.

“Cecile, darling,” Candice gave a superior drawl
while the men looked over the horse. “You can’t possibly
want this one. It’s docile enough because it’s practically
dead. The others are much better choices. They’ve been bred to be a lady’s mount. This one has fallen into it simply by accident.”

Giles barely suppressed a moan. Of the group, Cecile knew the least about horseflesh on account that
she’d been raised by a poor violin maker in France before meeting Alain. Riding and horses was something
very new to her since their marriage. Candice had made
Cecile’s ignorance very clear with her thoughtless comment. If she wasn’t careful, Alain would take her head
off without compunction.

Cate stirred at his side. That was unless Cate got to her
first. Cate stepped forward and studied the horse close
up, bending to run a hand across the width of its chest.

“I suppose if your heart is set on it,” Alain began, returning to Cecile’s side. “There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with the horse”

“Nothing wrong!” Candice exclaimed. “Wickham,
you must persuade her to purchase a different mount. It
is not at all suitable.”

Giles cringed, not bothering to hide his disapproval
of Candice’s conduct. His friends were right, he would
do well to sever his relationship with her now that she’d
shown her true colors.

Cate straightened from her inspection, which had
moved to the horse’s withers. “Baron Wickham is right.
There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with the horse.”
She ducked under the rope in fluid motion and took up
her spot on Giles’s left. “However, I think the price is
too much. You would do better to buy the horse after the
races when the day is winding down and the vendors are more keen to sell. If the horse is not worth it, the price
will come down. If the horse is quality, the price may go
up. It’s a risk but at least if the price goes up, you’ll
know the horse is worth something.”

“I bow to your wisdom, Lady Cate,” Alain said. “Let
us find a place in the stands to watch the races since
they are set to begin in a few minutes”

There was much activity surrounding the makeshift
racetrack as they approached. People were laying odds
on horses and others milled about looking at the entries.
Giles handed Candice up into the stands and turned to
assist Cate.

“I need a few moments of privacy,” Cate whispered.
“I’ll be back.”

Assuming she meant to seek out a ladies’ convenience, Giles nodded and sat down next to Candice. To
assure her safety and direction, he followed Cate with
his eyes until she was out of view.

Once out of sight of the stands, Cate doubled back
around to the stall where Cecile had seen the dark gelding. She took off her wide-brimmed hat and shook her
hair free of its pins.

“Hello, Donovan”

The barrel-chested man at the stall looked up, recognition dawning on his tanned face. “Caterina, I thought
that might have been you but I couldn’t tell with that
hat. It didn’t make sense you would be all those coves.
What are you doing?” He crossed the rope barrier and
enveloped her in a big hug.