Chapter Seventeen

M alcolm awoke, feeling refreshed and invigorated. Everything in his life seemed to be falling into place.

Though the Season was still at the beginning, he already believed his little sister had found the man she would call husband one day in the near future. That had been his biggest concern coming to town this spring, especially after the conversation he'd had with Ada and how she'd expressed such a strong desire to escape from Mama's grasp. Naturally, he would watch the progression of the relationship between Lord Ashmore and his sister, but Malcolm fully believed the day would come when the viscount would ask to speak with him and make his full intention known. He had a proper sense regarding others and believed Lord Ashmore would treat Ada well. Still, he wanted to learn more about the viscount and would spend some time alone with the man at White's. That would be the easiest place to get Ashmore to open up without being constantly interrupted by others.

As for friendship, Malcolm could not believe how the men who had married into the Strong family and the Duke of Seaton himself had rallied to his cause yesterday. They had been supportive and friendly, and when he had arrived home from the musicale last night, the promised guide awaited him. He chuckled to himself, thinking of Lord Carroll and Viscount Blankenship laboring over the pages. Though he wasn't one to listen to gossip, he knew enough from his brief foray in Polite Society previously to know of their reputations. They had been two of the biggest rakehells in London. To see how these men had been tamed by two Strong women—and how they even bragged about that taming—let him know good things could occur in a marriage.

Especially to a Strong woman.

That led Malcolm to the last item which had brought happiness to him. God only knew how it had eluded him up until now. He had never thought it would take another person to make him feel complete, but that is what Lady Effie was doing. He had feared he was so cold and distant, unfeeling like his father, that he might make the same mistakes in his second marriage that he had in his first. Yet being around Lady Effie and her affectionate, rambunctious family let him know there was another way of life. One which allowed him to celebrate himself—and her.

She was going to take some convincing, however. After all, this was the woman who had announced she was not looking for a husband and liked her life exactly the way it was. He would have to offer her more than marriage. He would need to offer her companionship. Passion.

Freedom . . .

As a duke, he held sway over other members of Polite Society, and if he wished Lady Effie Strong as his wife, he would have her. The ton might disapprove of the match because of her candor and unusual ways, but dukes had far greater leeway and were not judged as harshly as other titled peers.

He wanted Effie to see they were a perfect match. Or perhaps an imperfect one. He wished to teach her. Learn from her. Love her.

Malcolm consulted the guide written out by his new friends. At last night's affair, he had hit upon several of the points listed. He had kept his proximity to Lady Effie throughout the evening without forcing himself into her company. He had complimented her in a way he believed pleased her. They had had a very nice conversation, and he did not have to pretend to listen to her. He wanted to listen to her because he found her fascinating, unlike any woman he had ever encountered.

He had also asked to see her again, dangling the outing in Rotten Row before her. Malcolm had escorted Ada and her to Rotten Row twice before the Season began and had seen what an incredible horsewoman she was. He could imagine riding out from Waterside's stables with her, the day spent in the saddle as they toured their country estate and met with their tenants regarding their needs.

He believed they were becoming friends. The Duke of Seaton had mentioned that, forming a foundation of friendship and letting love grow from it. Already, Malcolm held strong feelings for Lady Effie. He would need to be patient and give her time to hopefully catch up to his own feelings. His gut told him Effie was not a woman to be rushed about anything, least of all love and marriage.

Consulting the list once again, he looked at the items he had yet to accomplish in this guide. It was much too soon to write to her of his feelings and saw it noted in the margin—by Lord Carroll—that the earl actually composed a bit of poetry every now and then and would be happy to assist Malcolm in writing a poem to Lady Effie. He would keep that in mind for later in the Season. It could help him stand out from her suitors, of which she had many, considering the number of flower arrangements he had spied in the Strong drawing room yesterday.

One guideline said he should surprise her with a gift. Something no one else might give her. That would take some thought. Another of these so-called rules required him to take her to a place that would astound her. Malcolm had no idea how he would accomplish something such as this. He could call upon her in Seaton's drawing room and see her at events held throughout the Season. He might ask her to go for a drive with him in Hyde Park during the fashionable hour. Other than that, Polite Society ensured young ladies were protected from men, and he hadn't a clue how to get her alone, much less where he might take her if he did so. Again, that would call for thought on his part.

He rose and dressed without assistance from his valet, not bothering to shave. He would do so once he returned from his ride this morning, as well as bathe to wash the scent of horse from him. Leaving his rooms, he headed for the stables, and a groom saddled a horse for him. Malcolm rode it the few blocks to Seaton's townhouse, turning as Lady Effie had requested so he might meet her at the duke's mews behind the family's residence.

When he arrived, he spied her already atop her horse.

In a man's shirt and breeches.

He wondered if she appeared so to get a rise from him or if she were simply more comfortable riding in such an ensemble—and more comfortable with him seeing her dressed in this fashion. She had mentioned to him that she wore breeches when in the country, and he had let her remark slip past him, not giving it much consideration.

If this were a test, Malcolm intended to pass.

Trotting his horse to her, he pulled up beside her. "Good morning, Lady Effie. I hope you do not mind a bit of cool this early in the morning, but I think it a fine time for a ride."

She pursed her lips a moment in thought and then awarded him with one of her radiant smiles. Malcolm knew he had to be in love because that smile alone nearly brought him to his knees.

"I am ready if you are, Your Grace."

They trotted their horses from the yard, chatting briefly as they went about last night's musicale. She insisted the pianist had no more talent than her two older sisters who played so well, and she lamented on how she had not understood a word the opera singer sang.

"You are not one for languages, my lady?" he asked.

"Miss Feathers did teach me French, and I can speak it fairly well. I actually read it better, though, but operas always seem to be in Italian or German. Do you speak other languages, Your Grace?"

"I do not wish to boast, but I found languages came rather easily to me. I know French, Spanish, and Italian, and I also have passable understanding of German."

"Well, you said you were academically gifted. I suppose if you know all those languages, you must be quite intelligent. What of those Latin verbs you were conjugating last night?"

"I do read and write Latin and Greek," he admitted, having originally omitted those so she would not think him overly arrogant. "I simply enjoyed all academics. Have you ever been good at something, truly good? So much that it brings you joy? That is what school was like for me and the learning in the classes I attended. Of course, I also enjoyed sports a great deal."

"I am like that about riding," she told him. "I feel free in the saddle, especially when I gallop. The wind in my hair. Feeling one with my horse." She paused. "I miss Juno."

Confusion filled him. "Who is Juno?"

"She is my horse at Shadowcrest," she explained. "I have had her for seven years now, but I have never brought her to town. You know how limiting space is here. In fact, so many others rent horses to ride. I feel fortunate we have a few mounts here in town which are available to us."

Looking at his horse, she said, "That is a fine horse you are riding, Your Grace. What is his or her name?"

Malcolm shrugged. "I haven't the foggiest notion."

She frowned severely. "How can you not know the name of your horse? That's blasphemy! Why, this is Marigold," she said, indicating her own horse. "I never would have climbed atop her without learning that very thing."

"I, unlike you, have never made pets of my animals. A horse is to be ridden. A dog helps to hunt. A cat is a mouser in the barn. Animals all have roles to play."

"We are very different in that respect, Your Grace," Lady Effie said stiffly.

Wanting to win her favor, as well as change himself, he said, "Perhaps you could teach me a bit about animals. I have only thought of them in regard to the service which they provide to me, where you seem to have a relationship with them."

She seemed mollified and said, "You can start by learning the name of this horse. And you could be kinder to my Daffy when you call the next time."

"You seem to truly love that cat."

"You should have seen her, Your Grace. Daffy was so thin. You could count every rib on her. Her fur was matted and dull. One leg was broken. Her eyes were filled with such hopelessness when I found her. She looked at me as if to say, ‘ Go away. Leave me to die .' I could not do that. I took her in. Bathed her tenderly and worked the knots from her coat. Fed her with an eye dropper at first and then by hand. Slowly, she began to trust me. The bond we have formed is greater than any I have done with any other animal."

They had entered the park and were almost at Rotten Row.

"What kind of animals have you helped?" he asked her.

She began talking about owls with broken wings. Foxes. Geese. Goats. Horses.

"What is your favorite animal?"

A smiled played about her lips. Lips he longed to kiss the proper way. "Besides Daffy?" she asked, mischief in her eyes. "I would have to say horses. They are easy to build an affinity with, especially if you are there from their birth."

"You have seen a horse being born?" he exclaimed.

"I have helped birth numerous foals, Your Grace," she said matter-of-factly. "It is one of the many pleasures I have witnessed. Sometimes, I have had to step in to help the mare, especially if it is a breech birth."

The mention of the kind of birth which had killed Imogen and Eunice disconcerted him. He would not be asking Lady Effie for any details.

She looked up. "We are here. Fortunately, we have the place to ourselves. I thought we might, coming so early."

Knowing her as he did, Malcolm asked, "Would you care to race?"

Her eyes danced in delight. "I thought you might never ask."

Then with an imperceptible nudge of her thighs, Lady Effie and Marigold took off like the wind. Malcolm reacted quickly, though, encouraging his own mount. He almost caught up to her as they raced the entire length of Rotten Row, but she crossed the end two seconds before he did.

She slowed from a gallop to a canter and then a trot, and he followed suit until once more they walked their horses side-by-side.

"If I were not a gentleman, my lady, I would accuse you of cheating," he said, grinning at her.

"Oh?" she asked innocently.

"Give my horse a minute to recover, and I will challenge you again. This time, however, I will win," he boldly proclaimed.

"Just because you are a duke does not mean everything goes your way, Your Grace. I am afraid you will suffer a second defeat to me if you choose to race again."

Her confidence was playing into his next statement. "Shall we place a wager on the outcome?"

He already had in mind what he would ask for.

"If you win," he said, "I will have to buy you any book of your choosing."

Her eyes learned with interest. " Any book? Any book at all? Hmm." She grew contemplative. "I might like a new atlas from you. They are terribly expensive."

"They are," he agreed. "Why an atlas?"

"The one at Shadowcrest not only became worn and tattered—it is now gone. Pippa used it so much over the years. She was always interested in traveling far from England. That is why Seth is such a good match for her. As a former ship's captain, he had traveled the Seven Seas and was the perfect guide to take Pippa exploring. They spent their honeymoon sailing around the world, coming home with tales of far lands." She chuckled. "And Adam."

"He is a fine, sturdy boy," Malcolm remarked. "Their babe is a pretty one, resembling his mother quite a bit."

"Pippa took that beloved atlas with her to Hopewood when she and Seth settled there. It is the estate adjacent to Shadowcrest, so I see her often. Of all my sisters and cousins, I am closest to Pippa. We are what others refer to as tomboys. Pippa taught me to ride. To hunt and fish. To even swim."

"So, if you win our race, you wish for me to replace the atlas."

She eyed him. "There is no if to the win, Waterbury. I am confident of your downfall and my victory. Again."

"If you were a man, I would deem you arrogant, Lady Effie," he teased. "Don't you wish to hear what prize I will claim when I win?"

"You may name whatever you wish, but victory will not be yours. Besides, I am not like other girls. Or matrons. I do not have pin money. I never really ask James for anything. Mama is the one who engineered this entire wardrobe for my come-out Season." She indicated her outfit. "You are seeing me in what I am most comfortable wearing. I hope you had no objections to my wearing breeches this morning."

"Not one whit, my lady. I knew you wanted to enjoy your ride. If that meant wearing your usual attire when doing so, I am happy to see the smile this ride put on your face." He paused. "Since you have no funds to buy me a prize, I will have to ask for something which only you can provide to me."

She crinkled her nose. "What might that be?" Then she brightened. "Oh, I see. You would ask for a dance with me. That is easy enough for me to award to you. Not that I will need to do so."

His gaze pinned hers. "I would be happy to dance with you anytime, Lady Effie, but it is not a dance I seek." He paused. "It is a kiss."

She gasped. "A kiss? Why, we have already exchanged one of those, Your Grace," she said hastily. "I would think you would wish for something else other than a kiss."

He reached and took one of her hands, obviously surprising her by the look on her face.

"It is exactly what I want from you, Effie," he said huskily. "And not the kind of kiss we shared before. A different kind."

Her eyes were large. "Different?" she echoed.

"Yes. Very different. One I think you should experience. If you are going to contemplate wedding a man, kissing is an important part of marriage. I am certain your sisters have told you so."

She visibly swallowed. "Yes." The word came out a whisper.

"Then I will show you a proper kiss, Effie. That will be the prize I claim."

He released her hand, and she cleared her throat. "Then shall we line up again, Your Grace?" she asked confidently.

She had recovered quickly from having her confidence shaken. This was one magnificent woman.

And he would do whatever it took to claim her as his.

"Show me the starting point," he said, and she turned Marigold, trotting to a point and stopping.

"Here."

"What will be the signal to begin?" he asked as he brought his horse to stand beside hers.

"We look at one another. We count aloud to three and then take off."

"Fair enough," he said, gazing at her intently.

Together, they said in unison, "One, two, three!"

Then they both took off, and Malcolm urged his mount on, promising himself he would ask the name of this horse and all the others in his stables if he could only win this race.

They were neck and neck the entire length of Rotten Row until the final few seconds, when he pulled away slightly. He crossed the finish line first and kept riding, slowing his horse at increments.

Wheeling the horse so that he faced her, he rode back to her. She wore a dazed expression on her face, as if she could not believe she had actually lost to him.

Or had she?

Malcolm had to wonder if Effie had eased up slightly at the end.

Just so she could see what a true kiss was like.