Chapter Five
Dawn’s fingers stretched over London.
Chase raced his stallion across the muddy road toward his London estate. Unlike most of the ton who kept their townhouses within the city or the western edges, his town home was along the Thames.
It was ancient.
It was massive.
And it was a declaration of the power of old.
It had been built at the time of Henry VII, when his family had chosen the right side in the War of the Roses and therefore become one of the most powerful families in all of the land. It did mean, however, there was always a good ride in and out of town. And sometimes he would stay at a city inn if he’d had too long of a night.
But this dawn, he’d wanted to go home. He had affairs to manage, and besides, he did not rest during the day. Oh no, he did not indulge in such things.
The only thing to do was get straight to work. Otherwise, his head would spin.
One would have thought that a few rounds with Brookhaven would have set him entirely straight. They had not. At least, not for long.
He urged his stallion on at greater speeds, savoring the power of the animal eating up the earth. The stallion, loving the freedom, took the ground like it was nothing, and as if he had been born to Newmarket.
Clods of mud flew up around them as they raced across the green.
In the distance, he spotted the towering trees that overshadowed his Tudor estate. The Thames glimmered to his left. They ate up the drive with little consequence, and the towering brick facade loomed before him.
In a few moments’ time, he would be able to call for a pot of coffee and sort his thoughts. He needed to sort them, after all. He could still not get her out of his head.
Lady Victoria was not pretty nor was she was attractive. Not in the traditional sense. Yet she had taken up residence in his thoughts like a soldier planting the flag of victory in some conquered earth.
Everything about Lady Victoria Kirby was like a cocklebur that had stuck to his side and could not be removed.
God, she was annoying and fascinating at the same time.
And he hated the fact that she was a victim of society and her father.
Just as he was about to slow his mount before the curved drive, a shadow caught his eye.
His stallion suddenly reared high on his hind legs. A sharp burst of agitation shot from the animal’s nostrils. He whinnied.
Chase tried to assure him in time. Instead, he found himself thrown over the equine’s shoulder into a heap on the mud.
His stallion let out a horrified note, realizing that he had thrown his master. For such a thing never occurred.
Chase felt his own moment of horror, too.
He had not been unseated in years.
What the blazes?
His stallion pranced. Yes, pranced quite excitedly for several moments. The animal tossed his head up and down, his mane wild.
Chase groaned. His entire body reverberated from the force of landing on the earth. He could not draw breath, and it took several seconds to suck in air. He hoped to God his stallion didn’t trample him in a fit of nerves.
But then the horse suddenly stood still, as if transfixed. Chase swung his gaze around, and his jaw dropped. Yes, it did indeed drop.
There she stood.
Lady Victoria Kirby, in all her strange splendor.