‘You’ve been in London for two days, and I feel as if I’ve been talking to myself that entire time.’
Sitting behind the desk in the study of the London house, Myles didn’t lift his head. ‘You’ve never been one to hold your silence.’
Wesley stood and crossed the room to refill his glass.
Glancing back down at the paper he’d been writing on, Myles used his left hand to cover where he’d written Anita’s name. His mind had been distracted, but he had been engaged in all of his duties, including listening to Wesley, because he wanted these tasks over with so he could get back home. ‘I agree. He will make a good addition. We need someone here in London to continue engaging prospective buyers as you’ve been doing.’
Returning to his seat, Wesley rested one ankle on his opposite knee. ‘What’s his name?’
Myles laid the pen in his right hand on top of the paper but kept his left hand in place. ‘Jonus. Jonus Hawthorn. You’ve been friends with him for years. He’s been out to Redford more times than I can count, but most importantly, he’s well known in the racing circles and knows his horseflesh.’
Wesley nodded. ‘I was just making sure you had been listening.’
Myles wasn’t surprised that Wesley had caught on to his inattentiveness and knew it wasn’t doing him any good. The more he thought about Anita, the more he was distracted, and convinced that he’d done her wrong. ‘I also agree with your choices of horses,’ he said, pushing other thoughts aside. ‘Those three are ready for the track. I’m just wondering if three is enough.’
‘I could only secure three stalls on the ship,’ Wesley replied. ‘Carl and I agree that three are enough. The horses are highly strung, especially Prince. It’s hard to say how well they’ll adjust to travelling on the water.’
‘That’s true,’ Myles said. ‘Carl is an excellent groom. I’ll miss having him at Redford.’
‘His excellence is exactly why he’s the groom I chose.’ Wesley chuckled. ‘And he asked me to choose him years ago, when we first discussed taking horses to America.’
‘I know. I wasn’t sure if you’d changed your mind.’
‘More like you were hoping.’
Myles nodded. ‘Perhaps.’
‘One groom isn’t going to be missed at Redford.’
That was true, but he wasn’t thinking about the grooms or the trainers or the stablemen at Redford. He was thinking about Anita and how excited she’d been to help him by recording the reports from each of the stables. He missed her and wondered what she’d think about the necklace he’d commissioned to be designed for her. He was sure she’d like it. She loved horses. She loved animals.
Wesley set his empty glass on the desk. ‘Does this have something to do with Wilmington’s visit to Redford?’
Myles lifted his head, squared his shoulders as every muscle went stiff. ‘What are they saying?’ Diana and her mother only had themselves to blame for getting covered in dirt. If they were saying one disparaging word about Anita, they would hear from him.
‘Easy there, big brother,’ Wesley said. ‘Wilmington’s saying that Anita is beautiful, that the two of you are happy, and that no one should listen to Brunswick’s tales.’
Myles felt the tension easing from his shoulders.
Wesley went on to say, ‘Diana has stated that she caught the two of you kissing like every woman wants to be kissed.’
The tension didn’t return. Instead, Myles wondered if that was true. If Anita wanted the deep, long kisses they’d shared in the stable that day rather than the soft, undemanding ones he’d given her since then. He wanted those long, heated ones but hadn’t wanted to push her too far too fast.
‘Did she catch the two of you kissing?’ Wesley asked.
Myles replied with his own question. ‘Does anyone in the ton have anything else to talk about apart from my life?’
‘Yes, but everything else is quite boring.’ Wesley wiggled a brow. ‘Did she catch you?’
Myles huffed out his answer, ‘We are married.’
With a raised brown, Wesley asked, ‘So your plan is working well, then?’
Myles was ready to defend his marriage, but this was Wesley, and his brother would see through his justifications as easily as he himself did. Letting out a suffocating sigh, he said, ‘I may have made a mistake.’
‘Is that why you keep writing her name over and over?’
Myles lifted his hand off the paper and used it to rub his forehead. ‘She is so much more than I expected and deserves so much more than...’
‘Than what?’ Wesley asked.
Myles stood. ‘Than I can give her.’ He walked over to pour himself a glass of brandy.
‘I’m not following you,’ Wesley said. ‘What can’t you give her?’
Myles emptied his glass in one swallow and considered refilling it. He also considered leaving the room, but neither of those options would help him figure out what to do. Neither had thinking about it non-stop. ‘She’s been mistreated her entire life, and I can’t do that to her.’
Wesley twisted in his chair to look at him. ‘You? You’ve never mistreated anyone, anything, in your entire life, other than me at times, when we were younger and would fight.’
Myles shook his head but then nodded, because it was true. The two of them had fought plenty when they were younger, and being older and bigger and stronger, he’d always been the winner. Huffing out a breath, he said, ‘I would never physically mistreat her, but she deserves someone to... Well, to put her first. Above all else. I can’t do that. I have commitments. Duties.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve never felt guilty coming to London for work before, but I do right now.’
‘So this is about you, not her,’ Wesley said.
‘No, it’s about her. About what I can’t give her.’
‘Then find a way to give it to her,’ Wesley said. ‘Whatever it is, find a way. You’re good at solving problems. Furthermore, what’s your other option? You can’t break this engagement, you’re already married.’
Myles knew that, and he knew that he didn’t want Anita trapped in a loveless marriage. She’d been trapped in a life without love for too long already. So, what was he going to do about that? He had to fix it.
‘I have a meeting.’ Wesley rose to his feet and walked towards the door. ‘But I am wondering if you’ve asked her if she wants to be put before everything else or if you are just assuming that because that’s what other women want.’ He stopped at the doorway to add, ‘From what I’ve seen, she’s not like the others. But you know her better than me. I’ll see you later.’
Myles stared at the empty glass in his hand. Could it be that simple? Did he simply need to ask her what she wanted?
Anita had never felt the level of excitement that was pumping through her this morning as she found her seat at the breakfast table. It had only been four days, but she’d missed Myles like he’d been gone for years. The message he’d sent yesterday said that he’d be home this evening, and she couldn’t wait to see his face. To see all of him. To talk with him, laugh with him, walk with him. To know he was sleeping in the room beside hers.
She’d visited every stable, every day, and made meticulous notes in his ledgers, as well as neatly arranged the mail that had arrived for him by date, and she’d made sure all of his fountain pens were full of ink.
‘Good morning, dear,’ Mary said, and paused long enough to place a small kiss on Anita’s cheek.
‘Good morning,’ Anita replied.
‘Excited?’ Mary asked while sitting down.
Anita swallowed at the heat that filled her cheeks.
‘Oh, darling,’ Mary said, waving a hand. ‘Missing your husband is nothing to be embarrassed about, nor is being excited that he’ll be home this evening.’
Anita busied herself by spreading jam on a slice of toasted bread. ‘I do hope he’s had a good trip.’
‘I’m sure he has,’ Mary said. ‘Just as I’m sure he wants all his business completed before we go to London for the ball.’ Using her fork, she gestured to the empty seats. ‘I’m also sure the girls are still sleeping, because they’ve been up half the night packing for London.’
‘They were very excited to hear that you are leaving tomorrow instead of next week.’
‘First balls are very exciting, although they can become boring rather quickly, so I hope the girls aren’t overly disappointed. The Arlingtons are wonderful hosts, and one of the few who invite younger girls to their balls. It’s something they all wait for. By going to London early, the girls will have time to get reacquainted with a few other girls their age who will also be attending, and hopefully that will help it become all that they are dreaming about.’
The love this family had for each other would never fail to amaze Anita. It was like she was living in a different world. One she was still attempting to get used to. The Christmas Ball had been the topic of conversation for weeks, and though she’d been included in those conversations, she hadn’t admitted to never having been to a ball herself. That was something a duchess should have done from an early age, and she was still attempting to figure out what she could do about that.
‘Besides,’ Mary said. ‘I should have considered the option before. You and Myles deserve some time alone.’
Anita’s face grew warm again.
‘When Michael and I were first married, we lived in the London house and his parents lived here at Redford.’ Mary took a sip of tea and let out a long sigh. ‘Relationships can feel so uncertain in the beginning. It takes time to get used to living with someone. Takes time to get to know them.’
‘Yes, it does,’ Anita agreed.
Mary reached over and laid a hand on Anita’s arm. ‘Sometimes we don’t realise how much we care for someone until they are absent.’
Anita truly didn’t know what to say.
‘I must be honest with you, dear,’ Mary said. ‘I was concerned when Myles told me about your fast marriage, especially after two broken engagements. Of which I let out great sighs of relief after each. He may be a duke and the head of this family, but he will always be my son, and I will always worry about him.’
‘Of course you will,’ Anita replied. ‘And you had every right to be concerned.’
‘Until you arrived.’ Mary’s smile grew. ‘When I saw you drive that coach up to the house, I rejoiced and sent up gratitude for my prayers being answered. I knew at that moment, before I’d even met you, that my son was marrying a woman who could be his match.’
Why did everyone think she was someone she wasn’t all because of one coach ride? ‘That woman was scared for the life of her employee,’ Anita said, even as what Myles had said echoed in the back of her mind. The confidence was in her. She just had to use it.
‘Rightfully so, without you, Joshua may not have lived. Can you imagine what would have happened if Miss Diana Brockholder’s coachman fell in the river? She would never have done what you did. You see, it’s when we are scared that our true selves come out, because we are fighting. Fighting for something we want. But I don’t have to tell you that, you’ve had to fight your entire life.’
Anita’s throat had grown thick. Though she’d never spoken of her past life with anyone other than Myles, it wasn’t a surprise to know that they all knew. Had known from the beginning.
‘My son is a stubborn man,’ Mary said. ‘I know. I raised him. Don’t be afraid to fight him. To fight for what you want. Lord knows that I fought his father, and it made our marriage, our love, stronger.’
Mary’s hand was still on her arm, and her fingers wrapped tighter around it. Anita almost choked trying to swallow. She couldn’t tell Mary that Myles didn’t want love in their marriage. And that she didn’t even know what love was. What it felt like. Or what it meant. She’d been too young when her parents had died to remember any of that. Although, she had remembered more wonderful memories since coming here, and she loved those memories. A tiny shiver coiled around her spine, making her wonder if what she was feeling for Myles was going in that direction. In the direction of love. She’d certainly never had such strong feelings for anyone else.
‘I’ve seen you blossom since you arrived here,’ Mary said. ‘Seen the light come into your eyes, the shine on your face. It’s been like watching a flower opening up in May.’
Anita had to admit that life here had made her feel safe, secure, comfortable in ways she never had before, and that could all be attributed to Myles, but none of that was love.
‘You aren’t the only one who I’ve seen changes in,’ Mary said. ‘Myles has always claimed to know what he wants, even though I’ve told him that sometimes we don’t know what we want until we find it.’
Anita looked down at her plate, trying to make sense of what Mary meant. Myles hadn’t wanted a wife.
‘Oh, I guess the girls aren’t still sleeping,’ Mary said, referring to the giggling filtering in from the corridor. Before removing her hand from Anita’s arm, she whispered, ‘Everyone deserves to feel the power of true love. It’s worth whatever it takes to get there.’ Then Mary turned her attention to the doorway. ‘Well, good morning, girls.’
Anita’s attention was on the sinking inside her. Myles would never feel the power of true love married to her.
Long after breakfast, the conversation with Mary was still replaying itself in Anita’s head. Myles had married her because he didn’t want love. He hadn’t wanted a wife. He’d needed a wife.
She lifted her head, looked at the sky overhead. ‘Not being married had been a problem for him and he solved it. Just like Mary said. My boots were a problem and he fixed that, too.’
Roscoe let out a bark, and she looked down at him. ‘I wasn’t talking to you, but thank you for listening.’
The dog barked again and one of the peacocks behind them let out a scream. She laughed. As crazy as it seemed, she loved those silly birds with their ear-piercing screams. She loved everything about Redford.
Arriving at the stable door, she told her furry and feathered companions, ‘You wait out here. I won’t be long.’
Snorting and stomping and whinnies met her as she stepped inside the stable. Mr Gorman, the main groom for the foaling stable, was in the centre aisle. The concerned look on his normally friendly face made her heart race. ‘What’s the matter? Was it the peacocks?’
‘No, Your Grace.’ He shrugged his shoulder and lifted his hands. ‘I don’t know what it is. They’ve been nervous all morning. There’s nothing in here out of the ordinary. Not even a bird. I’ve checked every stall and there’s nothing. The mother cat and kittens are all in the tack room.’
Anita stretched out an arm to stroke the nose of one of the horses, but it threw its head back, away from her touch, which was abnormal. ‘Something is wrong.’
‘I know. It’s odd for all of them to act like this. I’ve never seen it before.’
Knowing something had to be done, but not sure what, she suggested, ‘Let’s look again, everywhere, or maybe we should put them out in the corral.’
‘That’s exactly what I was getting ready to do,’ Mr Gorman said. ‘Once they are outside, I’ll take another look around.’
‘I’ll help release them,’ she said.
‘I can do it, Your Grace. There’s no need for you to trouble yourself.’
‘With two of us, we’ll get them out faster.’ There were two doors leading out to the corral, one at each end of the stalls. ‘I’ll start down here. You start on that end.’
He didn’t argue, and she knew it was only because of her title but truly didn’t care. The horses were not acting normally, and that worried her. She opened the corral door, then walked to the first stall.
As if grateful to be led out, away from whatever had them all so nervous, as soon as Anita opened the stall, the horse walked straight to the corral door. So did the second and third ones.
The fourth one, a beautiful brown horse with a white slash down its nose, backed farther into the stall rather than walking out.
‘It’s all right, Dolly,’ Anita whispered while wishing she’d remembered to stop in the kitchen for carrots this morning, but her mind had still been on her conversation with Mary. ‘Nothing’s going to hurt you.’
The horse tossed her head and stepped sideways. Anita instantly noticed something in the bedding of straw. It was small, the size of a coin, but bright red. ‘Mr Gorman, come here please,’ she said, keeping her voice as calm as possible.
He arrived instantly. ‘What is it, Your Grace?’
‘Look, there.’ She pointed to the bedding. ‘Is that blood?’
Quickly, he inspected the bedding and horse. ‘She’s spotting. The rest of them could smell it, and it made them nervous. I must have missed it when I looked in her stall.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s too early for her to go into labour. She could lose the foal.’
‘I’ll get the rest of the horses outside,’ Anita said. ‘You take Dolly to a birthing stall so she’ll have more room and seclusion. I’m sure the rest of the horses were making her nervous, too.’
‘I’ll get someone else to help me, Your Grace.’
‘That will be fine, later. I’m here now, so let’s get her to a stall and the rest outside.’ Certain he would protest again, she added, ‘Now, Mr Gorman.’
He gave a quick bow before sliding a rope around Dolly’s neck. ‘I’ll be right back to help you.’
‘Get her settled and comfortable,’ Anita said. There were only two more horses to put outside, and they exited as easily as all the others. She then closed both corral doors before she made her way into the room that held the larger birthing stalls.
Because they wouldn’t be used until next spring, there was no bedding in any of the stalls, and Mr Gorman was using a pitchfork to put fresh straw from a wheel barrel into the stall he’d put Dolly in. ‘She’s young,’ he said. ‘This is her first foal.’
‘Poor girl.’ Anita grabbed another pitchfork and stepped around him into the stall. Using the fork, she spread the hay he was pitching into the stall into the far corners.
She also gave him a look that said, Don’t protest. It won’t do any good.
Dolly already appeared calmer, most likely because the other mares weren’t making her nervous with their stomping and snorting. Over the past few weeks, Anita had read several of the books in the library about horses and more than one section about breeding and giving birth had explained that miscarriages were not uncommon. ‘Wouldn’t a miscarriage normally happen earlier than this?’
‘Yes,’ Mr Gorman replied. ‘Long before now. In the early weeks. I’ll have Mr Walsh examine her. He handles all the foaling.’
‘You go and find him, I’ll finish this,’ she said.
‘I couldn’t, Your Grace,’ he said.
‘Yes, you can, and you will.’
Apprehension wasn’t just in his eyes. It took up his entire face.
‘My apologies, Mr Gorman, but now is not the time to worry about what is or isn’t appropriate. We need to have Dolly examined, and the sooner the better. Now, please, go and find Mr Walsh.’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ He set aside his pitchfork and raced out of the room.
Anita finished spreading out the straw, then put away the pitchforks and the wheelbarrow before re-entering the stall. Dolly nudged her with her nose, and Anita wrapped an arm around the horse’s neck. Pressing their cheeks together, she said, ‘Everything is going to be fine, Dolly. This is the best stable in all of England, maybe in all the world. I’ve seen other stables, and if I was a horse, this is where I’d want to be.’
She went on, talking low and slow, telling the horse that Redford was a nice place to live at for a person, too, and serval other things, until she heard a door close.
Mr Gorman was back but alone. ‘I sent someone to get Mr Walsh, Your Grace, and please, you should step out of there.’
‘She’s calm now,’ Anita replied. ‘I think I’ll wait here until Mr Walsh arrives.’
‘But—’ He stopped talking at the sound of another door closing.
‘That must be Mr Walsh,’ she said.
Mr Gorman shook his head, and a moment later, Myles walked into the room.
Her heart leaped with joy inside her chest, and she opened her mouth to say hello, but she didn’t get a chance.
Myles was too distracted by what she was doing in the stall. He shouted a warning that she could trip, fall, get trampled on if the mare spooks, at the top of his lungs while rushing into the stall and grabbing her around the waist.
She’d never seen him acting so irate. ‘Myles, stop! You’re going to make Dolly nervous again.’
‘Nervous?’
‘Yes!’ She batted at his hands as he carried her out of the stall. ‘Put me down!’
‘No, with all that straw, you could trip!’
‘I can trip when there’s nothing in my way!’ she shouted her thoughts aloud. ‘Now put me down!’
He didn’t. He not only carried her out of the stall but out of the room, while grumbling aloud about how he’d never expected a groom of his to be so careless.
He was holding her by the waist, flush against him.
‘It wasn’t Mr Gorman’s fault!’ Using her good foot, she kicked out, catching him on the shin, which hurt her toe more than it hurt him, no doubt, because it didn’t slow his steps at all. ‘Put me down right now!’
‘I’ll put you down when we are outside, where the dog and peacocks are waiting for you! That’s where you should be, not inside a stall with a horse that weighs ten times more than you do!’
At that moment, one thing that Mary had said this morning stuck in her mind. Don’t be afraid to fight him.
She wasn’t afraid. She was furious.
As soon as they were outside, she shoved against his chest, hard, with both hands. ‘Put me down!’
He lowered her until her feet were firmly on the ground but didn’t release his hold on her waist. ‘What were you think—’
‘Stop right there, Myles Wadsworth! I don’t care if you are a duke or not, you have no reason to blame to Mr Gorman for anything!’
‘Yes, I do! With your foot and all that straw—’
‘My foot!’ She’d never been so mad in her life and shoved his arms, forcing him to release her waist as she stepped backwards. ‘It’s my foot! And I’ve walked on straw my entire life!’ The idea that she—that her foot—had caused problems for the groom, who had been following her orders, was tearing her up inside. Putting another step between them, she continued, ‘And you know what else about my foot? You can’t fix it! It’s not a problem for you to solve! That’s what you do! You see a problem and you want to fix it. Well, I can’t be fixed! Never!’
‘I never tried to fix your foot! I never said it was a problem!’
‘Oh, so you called in the cobbler for no reason?’
‘I summoned him because I didn’t want to see you in pain!’
She did know that, but she was so angry her mind didn’t want to work. Or maybe it was him. He just overwhelmed her at times. Not only his kindness and concern, but him. All of him. She shook her head and said the first thing that came to mind. ‘Without the pain, I don’t know who I am!’ That was true. So very true. Without the constant pain to think about, she’d started thinking about other things. Him. And being married and a duchess and...love. Tears were stinging her eyes, which made her madder. She never cried. Never. She couldn’t cry. But she was. ‘The only thing I do know, is that I don’t like you very much right now!’
Spinning about, she started for the house.
‘Anita! Wait!’
One of the peacocks let out a scream and she screamed back at the bird, ‘Tell him to leave me alone! Just leave me alone!’