Chapter 2
Determined not to be the first to arrive at his best friend's weeklong festivities, the Earl of Warrington, Lord Thomas Nott, had decided to hold off leaving his home until the very last minute. His residence, Warrington Fields, sat only on the far side of a small village just outside Oxfordshire and it would be a rather quick carriage ride through the town to Lord Kendall's residence of Kendall Hall.
Although he loved his friend dearly, having grown up together and attended university together, he would not allow himself to be subjected to the Ton for even a moment longer than was required of him.
Better to turn up toward the end of the guest arrivals to ensure that everyone was far too busy to bore him with idle conversation, or worse still, have elderly noblemen throwing their young daughters at him for marriage. It was the curse of an Earl, especially one with great fortune such as himself with no siblings to share in it. Far better to arrive just before everyone was due to prepare for dinner.
Or so he had planned. Yet that morning, around eleven o'clock, his butler had attended to him, offering terrible news that his carriage had been brought up but that one of the wheels had splintered leaving it unusable until it could be fixed. The butler, as was his nature, had offered the solution of having another carriage brought around but the Earl was aware of just how long that might take.
"Have my horse saddled. I shall ride. It is not far," he had announced to the butler who did not look best pleased at the suggestion but also did not offer any kind of objection. "You may send my things along after me once a carriage has been prepared," the earl had added in the hopes of swaying his butler. The man had seemed far more pleased with this and nodded, disappearing to adhere to his master's request.
Now, the Earl found himself riding. And he found that he was rather enjoying it. It had been a long time since he had been able to merely sit upon horseback and breathe the fresh air.
Having been an Earl for only a short time after the death of his father, his attentions had been needed elsewhere, correcting documents, signing papers, responding to condolences and congratulations at his new title.
After that, the family businesses had taken over and all his spare time had been spent merely trying to catch up around the social events of the Season, many of which he had been expected to attend and yet declined wherever he could. As a newly made Earl, many were all too willing to try to catch his eye with the promise of a pretty maid for his enjoyment to wed and bed.
Yet he had no interest in such things. At six and twenty, he was still a young man and merely wished to enjoy his newfound freedom without his papa breathing down his neck upon how to act amongst society.
That freedom came to a head now, knowing that if his father had still been alive then he would not be on horseback now. He would still be at Warrington Fields, awaiting another carriage for them to be horrendously late for his friend's festivities, or worse, not attending at all.
"If we shall not attend upon the first day, we shall not attend at all," his father would have stated in a gruff and rather grating tone and Thomas would likely have protested only to have his protests fall upon deaf ears.
It is good to be an Earl,he thought, closing his eyes for several moments to breathe in the warm, fresh country air as he led his horse from the village and out the other side, down the dirt road that would eventually turn off to Kendall Hall.
He tried not to think of anything other than the present, tried to merely enjoy his surroundings, not thinking of the fact he would likely have to borrow something to wear from his dear friend for dinner if his own things did not arrive in time. Perhaps, he had left something there upon a previous visit which would still fit.
Opening his eyes, the Earl marvelled at the fields stretching away on either side of him. Some housed sheep or even pigs while others were brimming with wheat or wildflowers.
All was beautiful and surrounded by rolling hills that very often Thomas wished to get lost in, if only for a few hours, away from all the stress and responsibility that had now landed itself upon his plate. Running his fingers through his glossy brown hair, already windswept, he took another deep breath and wondered,How much might Owen have changed?
He had seen it too many times. A gentleman who had once been carefree and fun had become boring seemingly overnight the moment he found a wedding band upon his finger, too frightened of upsetting his new bride to continue upon the path he had led for his entire life.
That shall not be me,Thomas determined even as he kicked his horse on faster, hoping not to be too late to his friend's residence.Lord forbid I should incur the wrath of the new Viscountess,Thomas thought with a chuckle, remembering the pretty and charming young lady his friend had chosen as his wife.
As wives went, she was not entirely displeasing though Thomas withheld too much judgement for fear it might affect his friendship. After all, he was not perfect, and he was sure that the lady too would have impressions of him also.
Thomas was just beginning to think of how he might be able to test the measure of their marriage and whether his friend was truly happy when his horse suddenly let out the most horrendous whinnying sound, rearing back on his hind quarters as if something had startled him.
"Whoa! Boy! Easy," Thomas urged him, gripping the reins tightly in one hand while holding onto the saddle with his other. The last thing he needed was to go toppling from his horse when he was expected somewhere.
Even before knowing for certain the problem, Thomas could practically hear his father's mocking tone in his ear, 'I told you riding would not be the best option. You ought to have waited for the carriage'. It was exactly what he would have said had he still been alive and had Thomas returned home with his tail between his legs.
Yet, the late Earl of Warrington was not alive, and Thomas was such now and he would handle the problem, whatever it was, and prove to his father that all would be well. Though he was gone, Thomas felt as though his father was still upon his shoulder, watching and waiting for him to fail. Thomas felt as though he was only slightly ahead of what he needed to be doing, what was expected of him, and he was beginning to feel as though it might all topple around him.
"There now, boy," Thomas soothed his horse with a stroke upon his neck, hoping that after a moment's respite the great black stallion would find the courage to continue onward. Yet when he dug the heels of his riding boots into the horse's ribs, he found the beast only moved a couple of steps before offering signs of rearing again.
Certain that he would likely fall from his saddle if he tried to force the horse into something he did not wish to do, Thomas decided it would be best to climb down and investigate from the ground. Still holding onto the reins, having pulled them over the stallion's head, Thomas examined his horse thoroughly, quickly finding the problem with a great sigh of exasperation.
"Just what I need," he announced grimly, cursing under his breath as he saw the awkward angle at which his horse was holding his rear foot. Closer inspection told Thomas that the stallion had cast a shoe.
Stroking down the horse's neck and along his shoulder, he glanced down the lane in an attempt to gauge how far from Kendall Hall they were. After some inner deliberation, the Earl decided it was much too far to force his horse on what would quickly become a lame leg.
"Looks like it is a trip back into the village and a visit to the farriers' for us, boy." Thomas sighed and offered his stallion a lump of sugar from his pocket before he began to turn back around. Walking back to the village would be far quicker than walking the rest of the way to Kendall Hall. Thomas could only hope that the fine weather would hold out. A glance skyward caused him to hope so. The sky was as blue as blue could be, and there was barely a cloud in sight.
By the time he returned to the village, he was aware that many of the other guests would likely have already arrived at Kendall Hall. He tried not to think on the fact too hard as he located the farriers and enquired as to how long it might take for his horse to be reshoed.
"I can get right to it, my lord," the gruff and potbellied man assured him, taking the reins of the stallion eagerly in the hopes that swift service would yield decent coin.