Chapter Three
June 16, 1817
Perhaps retiring to his country estate hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had, for now that he’d been here twelve days, the slower pace and earlier hours of life had become… uninspired, dull really.
Drew shoved a hand through his hair, much to the annoyance of Barton, his long-suffering valet. “What am I supposed to do now? The manor is big and empty, and while I appreciate the silence, the lack of…” What the devil was he trying to say?
“Life, my lord? Vitality? Interest?” Barton supplied helpfully with an elevated blond eyebrow and a slight grin. Was the man mocking him or was he simply the jovial sort? It was deuced difficult to tell.
“Quite,” he finally said. Breakfast had been consumed and he wasn’t due to meet with his estate foreman until later in the week. He’d gone up to his rooms to retrieve his ever-present ruby stick pin for his cravat. No matter what, he could never let himself forget why he wore it, but all the time on his hands left him at sixes and sevens about how to spend his time. “I fear I shall go out of my mind from the solitude.” Yet he hadn’t had enough of the bucolic peace to bring the simmering anger to a cooling point. It waited, coiled and tense, like a cobra, ready to strike. “If I were a different man, I’d be content to utilize the library, but I can’t cool my heels in such a manner. I require action.” He needed an outlet to help relieve that slithering beast inside.
Is there nothing in this bloody world that can help me?
Comb in hand, Barton repaired Drew’s hairstyle. “Might I suggest a good ride, my lord? It would clear away the cobwebs and you’ll gain some exercise as well.” He flashed that annoying grin once more. “There are a couple of excellent stallions in the stables that should be put through their paces, according to the stable master. And you have enough acreage to warrant the passing of a few hours.”
“That does sound intriguing.” A fat lot more than visiting tenants or inspecting outbuildings, which was something he hadn’t realized he’d needed to do. Apparently, his father hadn’t done so in the last few years due to declining health, but in his prime, the old earl had made personal connections with every person who lived and worked on the estate. Another blanket of heavy, suffocating guilt fell over Drew.
Even here, far away from London and his family, duties pressed in on him.
There is no escape. More fool I to think there was.
“Beyond that, you could pay a visit on your nearest neighbor. Baronet Gearwell is naught but two miles to the west,” the maddening valet continued as if life were but a great game.
“Bah!” Drew chopped the air with a hand. The sunlight glinted off the signet ring on his pinky, drawing his attention to the depiction of a funnel-shaped storm cloud and the two crossed swords and spear that stabbed through it—the coat-of-arms of the Storme family. “I came here for the solitude, not to do the pretty in country society. I’ll gladly take the opportunity to ride.”
“Very well. Shall I inform the stable master you’re coming?”
“That won’t be necessary.” For an empty manor house, there were far too many bloody servants underfoot. Yes, they were all willing to make his stay as comfortable as possible, but they rather made it impossible for him to ruminate. “I’m more than capable of handling myself.” Couldn’t a man hold a title yet manage to conduct his own affairs?
At the last second, he stopped himself from shoving a hand through his hair. It wasn’t the staff’s fault he was naught but a growling beast. Nor was it their fault he struggled under the crushing weight of his emotions and anxiety. They merely wished to feel useful in their own ways, and his father had been gracious to everyone.
I don’t have that personality nor the patience. Perhaps this is who I’m destined to be—shut away from society, snarling and alone.While William took over his position.
Barton nodded. “You’ll fall into the pattern and schedule of things soon enough, my lord. Country living will be second nature to you by the end of summer.” His grin widened. “Shall I press a particular waistcoat for dinner?”
Oh, for the love of all that was holy!Drew clenched his teeth. Damned decisions that meant absolutely nothing in the grand scheme, but this is what an earl did… until he died. With effort, he bit back the sharp retort sitting on the tip of his tongue. “I’ll leave that to your discretion.” He couldn’t quit the room fast enough.
A quarter of an hour was all it took to reach the stables. The irritation was shoved aside for a moment when he mounted a gray stallion with black dappling on his hindquarters. The black mane and tail provided a sharp contrast and the equine’s personality seemed to match Drew’s. Perhaps even animals tired of the days of inactivity, too.
“Well now. Let’s see what you’re capable of, shall we?” he told the horse, whose name was Ares.
The animal tossed his head and followed Drew’s every movement with his dark eyes.
“Be careful with him, my lord,” the stable master warned as he pushed his slouch-style cap up on his forehead and scratched his grizzled hair. “He doesn’t like many people, and if you let him, he’ll lead you on a merry chase.”
“I think he and I shall get on splendidly.” For he wasn’t all that keen on the company of people either. Drew patted the horse’s neck. The scents of hay and leather filled his nostrils. Oddly enough, it brought a modicum of comfort, for riding was something he remembered from his childhood when he and his father would go out in the early morning hours to check the estate. I should have appreciated that time more.
He shoved away the thought. Now was not the time for introspection. “Let’s fly, Ares, and put distance between us and what life has become.”
With the reins clutched in his gloved hands, he spurred his booted heels into the horse’s sides, and they took off as if the hounds of hell were chasing them.
For the next hour, Drew gave the stallion his head. They ran neck or nothing through the countryside, tore through the village commons and main streets before hitting the wide-open spaces once more. Each thunder of hooves echoed in his blood and soon his pulse set the same cadence. The power and life of the beast beneath him brought a semblance of order to his world that solitude or discussion never could. This was as close as he came to indulging in freedom and forgetting his responsibilities as well as the emotions plaguing him.
The things he could never control.
The feelings that would eventually consume him.
By the time he reached the main road that would lead to the lane and his manor house, his mood had improved by an increment. Though the horse heaved for breath and Drew’s own muscles ached pleasantly from the run, he kept up an intense gallop while leaning low over Ares’ neck. “Ah, you beautiful beast! You’ve done marvelously this day,” he crooned into the horse’s ear. Riding might tame the things that plagued him. “You’ve earned an extra helping of oats, I’d say.” A triumphant laugh escaped him as the equine tossed his head. To be as free as this. Perhaps the country did have a few positives that London didn’t.