“Yes. Lives at the dower house with the current earl’s mother, Rebecca Waterman.”
“Let me get this straight,” Griff said, crossing one leg over the other. “Gabriel Smith inherited the earldom and subsequently married the late earl’s widow?”
“Emma. Yes. She and Matthew previously had a daughter, Patsy.”
Griff startled when his host literally vaulted out of his chair to refill his glass, prompting the notion Patsy had something to do with whatever mischief Arthur had become involved with.
“One thing about Lady Susan,” Bertrand declared, brandishing the brandy bottle. “Once she gets her teeth into something, she’s like a dog with a bone. Never gives up.”
Griff raised his glass, signaling his acceptance of a refill, but he lost track when the baron went off on a tangent about arsenic poisoning and the island of Saint Helena—whatever that had to do with anything.
His emotions were mixed. He shuddered at the possibility Lady Susan might have sunk her teeth into thoroughbred horse racing. On the other hand, outside the court, he’d noticed she had lovely, even teeth. He’d wager she was attractive when she smiled. Such pearly whites could wreak havoc on a man’s body.
Suddenly rendered weak in the knees by an erotic vision of Susan Crompton nibbling his cock, he stubbed out his cigar, downed the brandy in one gulp and begged leave to retire for the night before his arousal split apart his trousers.
A New Day Dawns
In Chester, Susanawoke the next morning feeling refreshed, despite having fallen asleep long after midnight. She’d dreamed of riding a spirited Arabian across desert sands, vibrantly colored skirts up around her thighs, hair flying free as she clung to the bare back of the man holding the reins. When she woke, she couldn’t for the life of her recall the identity of the rider, but the ride had been exhilarating. Her pillow was strangely damp. “Must have drooled on the fellow,” she muttered with a chuckle. The notion gave rise to a peculiar, though not unpleasant, spasm in a very intimate place.
She, Patsy and Rebecca assisted with each other’stoilette.
“You seem chipper today,” her friend remarked.
“Yes,” she replied, though she couldn’t explain the strong premonition the day held special promise.
They joined the rest of the family in the dining room for a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast and coffee.
A scullery lad was clearing away the last of their dishes when Oscar arrived with another gentleman he first introduced to Gabriel as Hugh Cavendish, the master of Heaton Hall.
“A pleasure to meet you, my lord,” Cavendish declared, removing his bowler hat and tucking it under his arm. He extended a hand to Gabriel who had come to his feet.
“Likewise,” Gabriel replied, accepting the handshake before proceeding to introduce everyone else at the table.
Emma rose after being introduced. “Come along, Patsy. We’ll leave the gentlemen to their business.”
Her daughter obeyed, though her deep sulk left no doubt she was annoyed.
Rebecca followed.
Susan remained in her seat, despite the puzzled expression on their guest’s face.
“Please be seated, Mr. Cavendish,” Gabriel said.
Susan offered a silent prayer of thanks for this broad-minded man who’d inherited her late brother’s title. Most aristocrats would have insisted she leave, but Gabriel hadn’t been born into the aristocracy. Still, he was wise enough not to mention it was she who wanted the horse.
Cavendish glanced at the earl, then at Bradley. He scowled at Susan as he sat. “I don’t normally…” he began.
“Lady Susan is a trusted advisor in matters such as these,” Gabriel interrupted.
Even Bradley gaped. Susan wished she’d brought her fan to hide the silly grin that threatened to split her face. She took a risk. “Tell us about the horse you wish to sell.”
Fidgeting with the brim of the bowler perched on his lap, Cavendish directed his response to Gabriel. “Orion is the grandson of Eclipse.” He turned to Susan. “Eclipse was…”
“The greatest thoroughbred that ever lived,” she supplied, avoiding looking at Oscar standing behind Cavendish. “Undefeated in eighteen races, including eleven King’s Plates.”
“Well…er…yes. Good. You’re aware then…”
“Name your price,” Gabriel said softly.