Chapter 2

Two

A thena dismounted Hades and then led him to the stables and secured him to a nearby post. She kept his attention on her as a stable hand removed his saddle and other tack. After everything was taken off she led him to his stall. She removed his harness and handed it to the stable hand.

"Bring me a brush," she told the stable hand. Hades had been wonderful, responding to every demand she made of him. Athena wanted to reward him for being the best horse she'd ever owned. The stable hand brought her the brush, and she groomed him. Athena brushed and brushed him and he practically preened before her. "You're wonderful," she told Hades. "The finest horse that ever was, the absolute bestest." She sounded like an idiot, but Athena didn't care.

After she finished brushing him, she exited the stall and closed the gate, then pushed the lock into place. She couldn't allow Hades to escape because none of the stable hands could handle him if she wasn't around to keep him calm. That was one of the reasons her father had been reluctant to allow her to have Hades. He was an unruly horse, and he hadn't wanted to risk Athena's safety. She reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a sugar cube and gave it to Hades. He crunched it and let out a nicker of appreciation. "You're perfect," she reassured Hades. "I'd spend more time with you if I could, but I must go inside now."

She still had read nothing in her mother's diary. That was her intention when she went for her ride. Athena had planned on settling down by the pond and reading the first few pages, but that had changed when Lord Kendal had made his appearance. It hadn't felt like the right time to open the journal and read her mother's words. Not with such a handsome and alluring man catching all of her attention.

That was when she knew she had to leave. He was an unexpected temptation, and the depth of it unsettled her to her core. Athena had never met anyone that had sparked her attention so quickly. By nature, she was restless, prone to pacing to alleviate her anxiety. Sitting still in a serene pose was foreign to her. Maeve could occasionally, but it was their oldest sister, Isla, that had the calmness that soothed everyone around them. Athena would never be that type of woman. So it had unnerved her to realize she could focus all of her attention on one man and have it calm her so effectively. She had to discuss it with her sisters.

Athena placed a quick kiss on Hades' mane and then said, "I'll be back tomorrow. I promise." She never broke her promises, especially to her horse. When they went to London, he would remain behind and that would be hell for the stable hands. They'd have to let him loose in the paddock so he got some exercise because no one else could ride him.

With a sigh, she stepped away from his stall and exited the stables. She made her way to the house and went to her bedchamber. As much as she wanted to speak to at least one of her sisters, she had to change out of her riding gear first. Her father frowned at her wearing breeches and didn't like to see her in them. He wouldn't go so far as to forbid her wearing them as long as they were at Harwood Hall. Being the daughter of the Earl of Harwood had some advantages, even if society thought they were ill bred mongrels.

She reached her bedchamber and stepped inside. Her maid was already waiting for her. "Mary," she greeted. "I need to change quickly. Is my gown ready?" Mary knew her well and should have prepared for her arrival, but Athena usually took her time changing.

"Yes, my lady," Mary said. "Your gown is pressed and ready for you. Your father requested you stop by his study when you returned for your ride. I think he wishes to speak with all three of you."

What could her father wish to discuss with them that required such urgency? She blew out a breath and turned toward Mary. "Then we best hurry. I've probably kept him waiting longer than he wished."

She quickly stripped her clothes off and handed them to Mary to launder. Athena only had a few pairs of breeches and she wanted to keep them in the best condition possible. It was quite difficult for a woman to have them made. Seamstresses were appalled and men's tailors flat out refused. She always had several pairs made at once when she found someone willing to humor her request.

Mary helped her into her underclothes and then into her gown. It was a soft blue that was a shade darker than her eyes. Athena thought it brought out that color and she liked to enhance their beauty—even if most found them odd. She loved the color. Mainly because of the one portrait that existed of her mother. They got their coloring from her, from her dark hair to her light blue eyes. They were truly their mother's daughters.

"There," Mary said. "Now let's fix your hair. Why did you insist on taking it down before your ride? It's a tangled mess. It'll take a while to comb out all those knots."

Truly, she hadn't known why she wanted her hair down. Athena knew it was a bad idea, but she felt it had to be done. After her encounter with Lord Kendal, she couldn't help but wonder if, somehow, she had sensed their meeting beforehand, and that's why she had left it unbound. Had he admired her hair?

She had certainly liked him. He was handsome and seemed to be kind. Athena wanted to know more about him, and it wasn't all about his dark hair and piercing gray eyes. Though he had tried to hide it, she could see he'd been in pain. What had happened to him? "Try your best," Athena told Mary. "I promise I shall not complain while you brush them out."

Mary nodded and set to work and Athena became lost in thought. She couldn't wait to tell Isla and Maeve about the duke's visitor. Isla would hate him on principle. Her feelings for the duke were well known. Once upon a time she'd thought herself in love with him, but he'd broken her heart. Surely Lord Kendal wasn't a cad like the duke, but she couldn't be certain. Regardless, she was determined to discover the truth.

Roman slid off of his horse and winced as pain shot through him. He'd been out too long and would have to rub down his leg later. Otherwise, the muscles would stiffen, and the pain would only worsen. He wished he had someone he trusted to do it for him, but there was no one he could rely on. It was up to him to see to his needs. He was the earl now and couldn't let anyone see him as weak.

He kept his pace slow as he headed toward Thornridge Castle. The duke would be in his study. That was where he spent most of his time. There was a lot involved in running a dukedom, and Roman did not envy his friend. Roman had never wanted a title, and certainly not one as lofty as a duke. Being an earl would be a tremendous responsibility too, but nowhere near as suffocating as a duke.

The castle might be considered gloomy to some, but Roman had always liked it. Even when he had visited as a boy. Roman had attended Eton with Thornridge and they had become good friends there. The duke had been a duke even then. His parents had both died when he was only five years old. He'd been raised by an aunt and solicitors. His melancholy nature had been ever present. There was sadness in his eyes even now. Roman wished he could erase that for him, but he didn't know what would or could make Thornridge happy.

He reached the study and rapped on the doorframe to catch Thornridge's attention. "I know you're busy," he began. "You're always busy. But I had hoped I could entice you to take a break and assist me."

Thornridge set his quill down as he met Roman's gaze. He smiled, but it didn't reach his forever somber golden eyes. "What can I do for you?"

Roman had always known two things in life. He was a forever disappointment to his father, and Thornridge would always be his friend. One he couldn't change, and the other he hoped never would. At least with his father's death, he could set the first aside. "I went riding earlier."

The duke's brow rose. "Was that wise?"

He grinned. "Perhaps not," he rubbed his aching thigh as he spoke. "But I had to try. I went farther this time than I have in the past." He'd kept to around the castle grounds when he attempted to get on a horse. This time he was determined to explore more of Thornridge land. He had visited in the past, but he had never gone far. There had been no reason to, and that was perhaps why he'd never seen her.

"I hope it was worth it." What he didn't say was that the pain would be unbearable later. Roman knew that better than his friend did. "You never said why you need my help."

"I made it as far as a pond on the east side of your property," he told the duke.

"I wouldn't recommend swimming there," the duke told him. "At least not for a few more months. Early April, it will be cold enough to freeze your bollocks off." His lips twitched. "Was that what you wished to know?"

Roman grinned. "No," he told his friend. "But that is good to know. I don't think it is wise to attempt swimming with my leg so unreliable. I might end up drowning if there is no one around to save me." And he rather liked his bollocks attached to his body, thank you very much. He'd rather they didn't freeze off. "I met someone there."

Thornridge stilled and slowly sat back against his chair. "Who?" His voice had gone gruff and, for the first time in his life, his eyes had an unfamiliar emotion rolling through them. Was that…anger? Heartbreak? He didn't quite understand what he was seeing. Did Thornridge have feelings for the hellion Roman had met?

"I'm not certain," he began slowly. "She never gave me her name. The only thing I can say with certainty is she lives nearby. I think the estate is near yours."

"I see." Thornridge glanced away. "There are three young ladies on that estate. It could be any of them, and they all look similar. Two are in fact identical…" He sighed. "It's been a few years since I've encountered any of them. I tend to stay in London." He rubbed his hands over his face, but didn't explain further.

Roman tilted his head to the side. "I didn't realize you don't reside here much when I asked for your help hiding my condition from my mother." Thornridge had always loved his home. What would make him stay away?

"It's a long story," he said. "A tale I don't wish to expound upon."

"I understand," he said, but he didn't. Roman could only guess at to the reason, and it had to include one of those three ladies. But which one? He prayed it wasn't the one he'd suddenly become fascinated with. "What are their names?"

Thornridge swallowed hard. "Lady Athena and Lady Maeve are the twins," he answered. "The oldest sister is Lady Isla."

Had it been his imagination, or had his voice grown a little gruffer at the mention of Lady Isla? Had something happened between them? He didn't want to pry, but his curiosity had grown exponentially. It was best to leave his friend alone. His questions had left him anxious, and that had not been Roman's intention. "Thank you," he told Thornridge. "I'm sure you have much more work to do." He gestured toward the account books. "I'll see you at dinner. I have to see to my leg or I won't be doing much walking later."

The duke nodded. "Stay away from them," he said in a harsh tone. "If the rumors about them are true, they'‘ll ruin you. They are not a good sort."

Roman frowned. "All right," he said in a quiet tone. He refused to stay away from her, though. Roman couldn't say why, but he knew she was meant to be his. It might be whimsy or he might even be a fool, but he had always followed his instincts. Those very instincts had saved his life. He might be damaged, but he was alive. He couldn't ignore something that had kept him breathing, and he wouldn't let go of a woman that could very well be his future. "I'll heed your advice."

Some things were meant to be. Roman left Thornridge alone and went to his bedchamber to take care of his leg. The duke had followed the same advice from someone else, and that had led him to letting go of Lady Isla. He didn't know how he knew that with certainty, but he did. He would also bet that Thornridge regretted that decision, but would refuse to admit it.

Maybe one day he'd realize that having her was far more important than his pride, but he wouldn't welcome that observation now. Roman would keep those thoughts to himself, at least for now. One day his friend might be open to hearing them, and when that day arrived he'd say his piece.