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‘You are fortunate to be so content. I hope to be as settled and as happy as you in the future.’
‘True contentment comes from following your heart and in appreciating what you have, not hankering after that which you have not.’
She pondered his words. ‘That is true, but only to an extent.’
She pictured Leo’s bleak expression as she had ridden away with Zach. She knew her brother well enough to know he used his anger to mask his concern, as well as any hint of weakness, and she also knew she had upset him by following her own inclination—her heart—and returning to the Court with Zach rather than with Leo.
‘What if, by following your heart, you cause pain to someone you love?’
Zach’s mouth twitched. ‘Then you have a choice to make about which is more important to you.’
‘Mayhap that is why you are so content. You only have yourself to please.’
Pain flashed across his face and was as quickly gone.
‘What is it?’
‘My mother—she died last summer.’ He raised his hand to the diamond in his ear.
She touched his arm. ‘I am sorry. Is...is your earring a traditional Romany adornment?’ Her fascination with that glinting diamond prompted her to risk the question.
‘It was part of a wedding gift from my father to my mother. She had to sell her jewellery after he died.’ Bitterness lit his eyes. ‘But she gave me the ring and I had the stone made into this.’
Diamonds? Cecily hid her surprise that a Romany could lavish such an expensive gift upon his bride, but she felt the poignancy that Zach’s mother had been forced to part with such a treasured gift. ‘It is a lovely memento of both of them.’
They had arrived back at the stable yard and a groom emerged to take charge of the horses.
‘I shall see you later,’ said Zach after he had helped Cecily to the ground. His dark gaze roamed her face, then drifted down her body, conjuring heat wherever it lingered. Her corset grew tight, restricting her lungs. ‘I am invited to dinner. I refused the invitation last night, but I shall accept tonight.’
The news pleased her. She longed to learn more about this enigmatic man and watching him interact with the others at Stourwell Court would hopefully allow her to do so.
‘Are you going to treat Thea’s mare now?’
‘Star? Yes, I am.’
‘I should like to watch.’
He held her gaze. ‘Your brother will not approve.’
She smiled. ‘But my heart is telling me I wish to see how you help her even though my head tells me I ought to return to the house.’
* * *
And he could not argue with that, because it was how he had encouraged her to think. Zach shook his head at her, smiling, then strode into the stable, where Star was tethered in a large pen at the far end, rather than in one of the stalls. The heels of Lady Perfect’s boots rang on the cobbled floor as she followed behind.
‘Wait outside,’ he said, hoping she would not chatter and distract him while he worked.
He stripped off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and entered the pen, where he was joined by Pritchard, the head man, and an older groom called Malky, who went to the mare’s head to hold her. Zach stripped the blanket from her back and brushed away the wisps of straw, listening to the low murmur of Malky’s voice as he kept Star calm and replied to Lady Perfect’s question about what was wrong with her.
First, Zach felt gently along either side of the mare’s spine, probing the tension of her muscles. He tried hard to keep his full attention on the mare, but found it wandering all too often to Lady Perfect who—to his surprise—now stood quietly on the spot he had indicated, doing nothing to distract him... It was his own visceral awareness of her presence to blame for that. He began to gently massage the knotted muscles either side of her spine.
A shadow fell across him and he looked around. It was the Duke, his countenance even more forbidding than before. Zach returned his attention to his task.
‘Leo!’ Cecily spoke in a hushed voice behind him. ‘Thea’s horse is lame, but they can’t find out which leg it is. Bleeding and purging have failed to help and so they have asked Mr Gray to try and help her.’
Zach watched Star’s ears closely for signs of pain. ‘There is no heat in her legs or hooves,’ he said, sparing a glance at the Duke, who stepped closer, his interest unmistakable. ‘The pain appears to be in her back—it is making her tense and she naturally restricts her stride to protect herself.’
‘Thea will be very grateful if you can help her, Absalom,’ Daniel said. ‘Star is her favourite...the horse she rode when she and Vernon set out to search for me.’
Zach listened to the murmured conversation with half an ear as he continued to massage Star. Then he took a carrot and a knife from his pocket. He cut a chunk and crouched by her foreleg, holding the carrot beneath Star’s nose, just out of her reach. As she followed the carrot, Zach lowered his hand, bringing it back between her forelegs. When he judged she had stretched sufficiently, he rewarded her with the carrot.
He straightened. ‘If it is done slowly and steadily, it will help to stretch her back,’ he said to Malky, who nodded. ‘Lead her out, then. I’d like to see her walk.’
The onlookers moved aside as Malky led Star from the pen and out of a rear door in the barn that led straight out on to the stretch of grass between the stable and the lake. Admiration glowed in Cecily’s mossy eyes as Zach passed her, sparking a flame of awareness and need deep in his gut. Then he caught the Duke’s eye and that smothered the flame more effectively than a shovelful of earth would extinguish his campfire. She was Lady Perfect. Sister of a duke. And the warning in his Grace’s silvery eyes promised dire retribution if Zach forgot his place.
He concentrated on keeping the churn of anger and resentment deep inside, letting nothing of his feelings show. There was no point in provoking such a man when his own conscience told him there was no future for him and Lady Perfect, no matter how fascinated he was by this prim and proper lady. No matter how she called to his soul.
‘That’ll do.’ After five minutes, Zach motioned to Malky to return Star to the stable. ‘Walk her in hand several times a day, just five minutes at a time to begin with. I’ll bring down some belladonna salve for her and massage her again this afternoon. And I’ll look in on her again before I go up to the house for dinner tonight.’
As he spoke, he happened to glance at the Duke, whose lips thinned at Zach’s words. His clear disapproval prompted an urge to tweak the man’s tail, despite Zach’s earlier resolve not to provoke such a powerful man needlessly.
‘I will update you on her progress when I see you tonight, my lady.’
He smiled directly at Cecily, noting both the flare of her eyes and her flicker of unease. He felt, rather than saw, the Duke’s irritation.
‘It is time we returned to the house.’ The Duke took Cecily’s arm and began walking. ‘I am sure Thea will be eager to hear how her horse fares.’
Cecily accompanied her brother without protest. Daniel let out a low whistle.
‘That is a high-risk strategy, my friend.’
Zach raised his brows and Daniel grinned.
‘No point in playing the innocent with me, but do take care. You might not realise it, but Cheriton is one of the most powerful men in the country. Cross him at your peril.’
‘If he is as powerful as you say, he can have no fear of a humble Romany.’
‘Humble?’ Daniel laughed. ‘I could describe you in many ways, Absalom, but humble ain’t one of ’em. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re every bit as high-born as most of the nobs I’ve encountered. Not Cheriton and his family, of course. They’re a breed apart.’
His words—although spoken in jest—jabbed deep at Zach. If only Daniel knew... He schooled his expression as he saw his friend’s eyes sharpen.
‘I’ve never known a man so reluctant to reveal anything of himself,’ said Daniel. ‘I’m willing to bet you have a colourful past, but...’ he held his hands up, palms out, as Zach frowned ‘...have no fear. I know better than to probe further.’
‘I see no point in revisiting the past. It is best left behind, that way it can wield no power over you.’
Daniel slapped Zach on the back. ‘If you say so, my friend. If you say so.’
Chapter Six (#ulink_026435e0-c784-569d-bf62-2ced12defccd)
That evening Zach was the last to arrive for dinner. He found the Markhams and the Beauchamps—including Lady Perfect, who stood closest to the door—gathered in the salon. Thea squealed as soon as she saw him, jumped up from her seat on the sofa and rushed across the room to grab his hand—earning her a glare from her mother and a look of loving indulgence from her new husband. She pulled him further into the room.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ she exclaimed breathlessly. She halted next to Cecily, who appeared to look at him, but did not meet his eyes. ‘Cecily told me what you did for Star and Malky said you have showed him how to massage her and she already seems a little better. I wish I had been there, but we were—’
‘We were catching up on our sleep,’ a deep voice interjected. Vernon had joined them, sliding his arm around Thea’s waist. ‘You have my gratitude as well, Gray. If there is ever anything I can do in return, you only have to say the word.’
‘It gives me pleasure to help a creature in pain,’ said Zach. ‘I need nothing in return. I have hopes she’ll make a complete recovery, although she won’t be fit to be ridden for several weeks.’
‘Several weeks? But Daniel told me you will leave soon.’ Thea sounded horrified.
Zach smiled. ‘I shall work with her again in the morning and continue to do so until I leave, but Pritchard and Malky are more than capable of caring for her.’
The newlyweds soon lost interest in him and wandered hand in hand over to the window, leaving him alone with Cecily.
‘Well, my lady. Have you had a pleasant day?’
‘Most pleasant, Mr Gray.’ His keen eye detected the note of constraint in her well-modulated tones. ‘As did you, I trust?’
So formal. So upright and ladylike, clad in a gown the colour of beech leaves in the autumn, its delicate fabric clinging provocatively to her curves. He took a moment to savour her, she looked so luscious—temptation personified. Pain stabbed his heart.
Not for you. Never for you.
Apart from that touch of restraint in her voice, there was no further sign of tension. Her hands—clothed correctly in elbow-length evening gloves—were loosely clasped at her waist. The perfect society lady. Not for her the enthusiasm and joy that Thea did not hesitate to display. How long would it be before life with the Beauchamps, and mixing with those in the highest level of society, depressed Thea’s bounce and turned her into yet another perfect lady?
Cecily raised her brow, prompting him to respond to her question.
‘I did.’
He regretted his brusque reply as a delicate flag of colour lit Cecily’s cheekbones. What else could he expect of her? She had told him she was thirty years old. Twenty-plus years, then, of being schooled to behave in precisely the way she was behaving now, conforming to the mores of her class.
Polite. Dutiful. Restrained.
The perfect lady.
Do not blame her for what is not her fault.
‘I carried out some repairs to my cart and cleaned Titan’s harness.’
He caught the flash of something else in those glorious green eyes. Some deep emotion, held tightly in check.
‘Where shall you go when you leave here?’
He smiled, and shrugged. ‘I have not yet decided. Where the wind blows me, if you will.’
He would set Titan’s head to the south-east and, sooner or later, he would catch up with his family.
‘I am sure that has disadvantages, but it also sounds so very—free.’ She ended on a wistful note. She had started to relax, her shoulders dropping, her eyes softening.
‘Have you told your brother of your plan to marry yet?’ He had grappled with that knowledge all day and yet...why? His common sense told him it was not his business what this perfect lady chose to do with her life. That connection between them was undeniable, but it was also unrealistic. Impossible. And he was not a man to hanker after the impossible.
‘I have not told him, so I should appreciate it if you do not mention it. I am not certain I shall confide my entire plan to my brothers—I shall simply experience a sudden urge to visit my Aunt Drusilla.’
Mischief sparked in her eyes and her full lips twitched, coaxing a smile from him, and triggering a sudden craving to taste her again. He thrust that urge aside, along with the idle conjecture as to how her brothers might react were he to act on that impulse. Hung, drawn and quartered sprang to mind. His smile widened and she eyed him curiously.
‘You say that as though there is a joke in there somewhere,’ he said, by way of explanation.
‘You would have to meet my aunt to appreciate the humour. Even her sons—my cousins—avoid visiting Leyton Grange as much as possible.’
In his peripheral vision, Zach noticed the Duke lean down to murmur into his wife’s ear, before straightening and turning purposefully towards Zach and Cecily. Zach easily interpreted his thoughts: his sister had talked to the gipsy for long enough and it was time to put a stop to the conversation. He obviously took his role of head of the family seriously. It was no wonder she behaved in such a restrained manner in his presence. How well did he—or the rest of her family—know the real Cecily that existed beneath this perfect outer shell? Had they, like him, ever sensed the wealth of passion simmering deep inside?
The Duke had joined them. ‘Gray.’ He nodded a greeting.
Zach nodded in reply. ‘Duke.’
He was damned if he would continue to ‘your Grace’ the man.
‘Might I borrow my sister? My wife would like a word with her.’
What could he say? Cecily threw him a tight smile, then crossed the room to sit with the Duchess. The Duke remained.
‘I am conscious we as a family are in your debt, Gray, but you would oblige me if you avoid being alone with my sister again.’
There was no anger or threat in his words, merely an arrogant assumption that Zach would do as he was bid.
‘Alone?’
Zach cast his gaze around the salon in an exaggerated manner. The Duke’s jaw firmed.
‘Your sister is in no danger from me.’
Silver-grey eyes bore into him. Zach stood his ground, holding the man’s gaze.
‘Do not wilfully misunderstand me.’ The menace was there now. Soft and assured. ‘You must be aware of the ways of our world and how easily a lady’s reputation can be damaged. The Markhams are our hosts and I am conscious of my obligations as their guest. They vouch for you and I therefore acquit you of any criminal intent, but be aware I shall be watching you. Very closely.’
Anger roiled deep down in Zach’s gut.
He thinks it is about money. He thinks I might blackmail him. Label the gipsy a scoundrel, a thief.
It should not be a surprise. Since living as a Romany, he had encountered many such prejudices towards his kind. The injustice of painting every member of an entire people the same criminal colour—merely due to the actions of a few rogue individuals or families—still burned within him. He longed to wipe that superior look from the Duke’s face, but he must be satisfied with knowing the truth in his own heart.
‘Watch as much as you please, Duke. You will soon grow bored.’ Zach leaned closer and lowered his voice. ‘I have no interest in your money.’
He had more than enough money of his own to live very comfortably if he so wished. He simply did not choose to live his life among people such as the Duke, who peered down their noses at him as though he was not quite a real man.
A muscle leapt in the Duke’s jaw and his fingers curled into a fist. Zach held his gaze until, finally, with a curt nod, the Duke stalked away.
Typical arrogant, cold-hearted nob.
His conscience then reared up, calming his anger and allowing his common sense to reassert itself. The man was Cecily’s brother and she clearly loved and respected him. As she was a product of her upbringing, so was the Duke a product of his. The kinder part of Zach understood the Duke merely sought to protect his family. After all, he too had a protective streak as wide as the sky. But the resentful part—the part he tried so hard to control, the part that would wallow in past injustices and past betrayals if he allowed it to—wanted nothing more than to make the Duke and every unfeeling aristocrat like him pay for their blind acceptance of the privilege of their birth.
