Captain Durant's Countess(44)

And she would not be bearing his child.

Reyn pulled up to the columned portico of Hazel Grange. Before the groom could rush to hold the horses, Maris stepped out and down the steps. She was wearing one of Madame Bernard’s creations, a black moiré that shimmered midnight blue and purple in the sunlight, a gauzy shawl clinging to her shoulders. The hat Reyn had selected, a little crown of iridescent black feathers, was perched on her head like a wayward bird. She took his breath away.

“Good afternoon, Captain Durant.”

Reyn wished the old gig was a fairy-tale glass carriage, but at least the seat was newly upholstered and clean. Reyn had stuffed horsehair and pounded the nails in himself after securing a piece of leather in Shere once he knew he would be transporting Maris.

“Good afternoon, my lady.” He jumped down and jostled around the groom to help Maris into the conveyance.

“It is a lovely one, is it not? Almost hot.”

Too hot for May, and sticky besides. His shoulder ached like the devil, a harbinger of rain to come. Reyn hoped all this weather talk was for the benefit of the boy who stood on Hazel Grange’s pea stone drive. They would have to find even more banal things to say over dinner and should not exhaust all of them on the ride to Merrywood.

“Indeed, lovely. My sister has been in a tizzy all day preparing for you.”

“I do hope she’d not gone to a lot of trouble,” Maris said, frowning. “I’m perfectly satisfied with the simplest things.”

“So I told her, but she does not listen to me very often.”

Maris adjusted her lightweight shawl. “How goes the wooing with the vicar?”

“You may see for yourself. Mr. Swift is also our supper guest. I hope you do not object. I know you do not relish company at this time.” Reyn had argued with Ginny over the invitation, but somehow she’d prevailed.

“He seems a most unobjectionable young man. I think David must have frightened him off, though. He’s not come to see me since that first visit.”

Reyn ground his teeth. “Has David bothered you again?”

“Only by the post. I don’t open his letters, but toss them in the fire. There’s a great deal of satisfaction to be had watching the flames, and it’s most unlikely he’s enclosing bank notes.”

Reyn loved the hat. Maris’s profile was fully visible to him and he saw the slight curve of her lips.

“I meant what I said, Maris. I will talk to him for you.”

She turned to him, feathers fluttering as the gig rolled on the narrow lane that connected their properties. “How could you explain your protective interest, Reyn? I went through a great drama swearing you meant nothing to me. Denying we even spoke beyond the merest passing politeness at Kelby Hall. It will be odd enough if he discovers we are neighbors.” She bit a lip. “You never should have come for me. I was wrong to accept the supper invitation in the first place.”

“One does have to eat sometime,” Reyn said, trying to tease her out of her funk.

“I have a perfectly good cook of my own.”

Damn it. He didn’t want to start their short time alone together off on such a querulous note. “Tonight, let’s agree to pretend David Kelby doesn’t exist. He’s not about to leap out of the hedgerows and catch us together, now is he? In any event, we are doing nothing wrong. You are dining with your new neighbors and a vicar. It doesn’t get more boring than that.”

She raised a brow at him, but said nothing. Boring was not the word to describe how he felt about Maris and she knew it.

Finally she sighed. “People will gossip.”

“You know what? People always gossip. What they don’t know, they’ll make up. I’m afraid you are the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to Shere. A real live countess in their midst. If you wanted total privacy, you should have gone elsewhere. The moon, perhaps. The Arctic Circle. But I can’t tell you how glad I am you are here next to me.”

“Don’t expect too much from it,” Maris demurred, though she didn’t move away.

“Even a countess cannot deny a man his dreams.” They were getting close to Merrywood’s gate. Reyn had affixed a sign to it just that afternoon; the paint was probably still wet. “Have you given any thought to our kiss?”

“That’s a presumptuous question, Captain.”

“Presumptuous is my middle name. Or would it be Presumption? I seem to have missed my chance on the road, but the stable will provide the necessary privacy, as long as you don’t mind the girls looking on.”

“You are being ridiculous, Reyn.”

She hadn’t said no. He’d have to be careful not to muss her, make sure there were no telltale bits of straw on her bottom. Of course there wouldn’t be. He couldn’t very well lure her into a stall and toss up her skirts as much as he wanted to. He’d have to refrain from sliding his fingers into her pinned-up hair, undoing the cunning jet buttons on her bodice, nipping her long white neck. And freeing her voluptuous breasts, which seemed a bit larger than he remembered.

And he remembered everything.

“Here we are. It’s a pleasant aspect, is it not?” Every time he rode down his lane, he felt a little jolt of pride. The whitewashed stone dwelling at the end of it had begun its life as a humble farmhouse, and several additions had been tacked on over the last century. The roof was thatch, and a clutch of early climbing roses framed the front door. True, he had to duck his head to enter that door, which had taken some getting used to. The outbuildings had been painted to match the house, so everything was blisteringly white and fresh. Reyn knew it was necessary to appear prosperous even if he wasn’t yet. His potential customers should be impressed.

His hard work was worth the smile on Maris’s face.

“Oh! This is lovely, Reyn!”

“This is more or less my first home, too. My parents weren’t much for sticking around to one place. Always fleeing creditors, you know. But I expect that mobility prepared me for the army. I never knew where I’d wake up next.”

“That must have been difficult for a little boy. I never lived anywhere but Kelby Hall.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Not at all.”

Reyn turned to her in surprise.

“It’s true. I’m quite content at the Grange. I told you I was happy with simple things.”

Excellent. Then there was hope for him. He was simple as they came.

“Let’s get you to the stables before Ginny gets her hands on you.”

“I don’t wish to appear rude.”

“Not at all. She knows you’re going to tour the barns with me first. I’m anxious to hear what you think.”

They rolled into the yard and young Jack came scurrying out to help. The boy was his only help at present, which would soon have to change. Reyn jumped down and helped Maris out, forcing himself not to leave his hands on her too long. They entered the largest cool dark building, horses whickering in greeting. The scent of horse manure was almost entirely absent. As instructed, Jack had been busy.

“Give me a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light before I ooh and ahh,” Maris said.

“You needn’t try to turn me up sweet. I know Merrywood’s limitations.” He’d worked like the devil to correct most of them, though.

“Reyn, I can tell already you’ve done a wonderful job here. Everything is . . . gleaming. The boxes are much larger than usual, aren’t they?”

“For the foals, when they come. It disturbs the horses to move into roomier quarters once they’ve given birth. Best to start them out in a larger space.” He’d ripped out every original stall himself over the winter, carefully measuring its replacement.

Maris reached for a long cinnamon-colored nose and stroked it. “Pretty girl,” she whispered. She opened her reticule and pulled out a lump of sugar.

“Now you’ve started something. You should have brought an entire cone if you don’t want to cause a riot.”

“I will the next time.”

Her words were heartening. Reyn very much hoped she’d be back again and again.

Sugar gone, they toured the rest of the stable, Maris lingering over each of the fillies with a word or a gentle pat. She had a natural horsewoman’s way with the animals and didn’t blink when one of the girls excreted a very unladylike mess during her inspection.

They crossed a few grassy steps to the second stable housing the gentlemen’s quarters and Reyn’s office. One day, the empty stalls would be filled, but only two were occupied at present. Brutus put on a show while Phantom did the equine version of rolling his eyes.

“He is a beauty, isn’t he?” Maris said, stepping back to admire the bay in the filtered sunlight.

Jack had done an admirable job scrubbing the windows, too. Reyn would have to give the boy something extra in his pay packet.