Read Online Dare to Love by Alleigh Burrows - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alleigh Burrows
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Nicholas and the earl. The first to score three birds wins.”
Confounding him, William announced an alternative. “How about I take Nicholas for a partner, and you and the earl can hunt together.”
In all their years together, Dare had always paired with William. They were the dominant team, always prevailing over the group. He tried to suppress the sting of abandonment as Nicholas, beaming with pride, nudged his horse to join William, but it annoyed him to hear the two men nattering away at each other as they branched off.
Brushing off the insult, Landis tugged on his reins, forcing his horse to rear slightly before prancing back towards the earl. He ignored the sharp look the earl shot him—after all there were few greater sins with the Horshams than mistreating a horse. Attempting to make the best of it, he spit out a brief apology, and they headed into the woods.
Determined to put young Nicholas in his place, Dare forged ahead, doing his utmost to win. Being a good host, the earl made several attempts at conversation that Dare rebuffed. His father had always made it painfully clear that hunting required absolute silence. He’d learned at a young age to follow that ironclad rule to avoid the consequences. He wasn’t going to change now to suit his congenial host.
By providing no more than one word answers, the earl soon learned conversation was unnecessary and, once quiet prevailed, the two men managed to bag a grouse within the first hour. They almost had a duck soon after, but it took flight behind a copse of trees. It was quite a while later that Dare had a quail in his sights when they heard the blast of a horn, startling the bird.
“Blast,” Dare growled. William and Junior had won.
“Huzzah,” crowed the earl. “My sons have bested us. Caroline will be quite pleased with her young man.”
Dare looked over, baffled. The earl seemed genuinely pleased that he had lost. How was that even possible? Wasn’t winning everything?
The only thing?
Anything less was…failure. And Dare could not abide by failure.
It was obvious that the earl was not burdened by the same sentiment. As the group reunited, and the victors displayed their kills, they all rambled on about who shot what and how well the other performed.
“We will have to serve these birds at the wedding tomorrow. It will bring luck to our table,” announced the earl.
Dare could do nothing more than shake his head in disbelief. The man truly did not care he’d lost to a lesser adversary. And William, he just rode alongside, acting as though he’d never had a better partner. As though all those times they’d been a team didn’t matter. It was infuriating.
By the time they reached the house, Dare’s mood was beyond surly. After handing over his horse to the stable boy, he strode into the entrance of the hall, determined to stew alone in his room. Everyone else could go to hell.
“Milord,” he heard a footman call.
He didn’t bother to slow down.
“Milord! I have good news for you.”
Irritated, Dare stopped and turned on his heel. The sneer on his face gave the footman pause.
“Well?” he snapped.
“Oh, yes, sir—well, your carriage and luggage have arrived. Your man is unpacking it at this very moment. Oh, and there is a letter for you.”
The footman scuttled back to the table, swept an envelope off, and handed it to him. Dare took one look at the handwriting and snatched the paper from the startled servant before storming up to his room.
His man, Jackson, was in the room arranging his things.
“Good day, milord. I have put your belongings away and can prepare your clothes for dinner now.”
“Yes, do it with all haste and then get out. I’m in no mood for your chatter.”
Well used to his master’s curtness, Jackson took no offence to the insinuation that he “chattered.” Instead, he helped him out of his riding clothes and into a clean linen shirt, dove-gray trousers, and spotless boots. That being done, he
Confounding him, William announced an alternative. “How about I take Nicholas for a partner, and you and the earl can hunt together.”
In all their years together, Dare had always paired with William. They were the dominant team, always prevailing over the group. He tried to suppress the sting of abandonment as Nicholas, beaming with pride, nudged his horse to join William, but it annoyed him to hear the two men nattering away at each other as they branched off.
Brushing off the insult, Landis tugged on his reins, forcing his horse to rear slightly before prancing back towards the earl. He ignored the sharp look the earl shot him—after all there were few greater sins with the Horshams than mistreating a horse. Attempting to make the best of it, he spit out a brief apology, and they headed into the woods.
Determined to put young Nicholas in his place, Dare forged ahead, doing his utmost to win. Being a good host, the earl made several attempts at conversation that Dare rebuffed. His father had always made it painfully clear that hunting required absolute silence. He’d learned at a young age to follow that ironclad rule to avoid the consequences. He wasn’t going to change now to suit his congenial host.
By providing no more than one word answers, the earl soon learned conversation was unnecessary and, once quiet prevailed, the two men managed to bag a grouse within the first hour. They almost had a duck soon after, but it took flight behind a copse of trees. It was quite a while later that Dare had a quail in his sights when they heard the blast of a horn, startling the bird.
“Blast,” Dare growled. William and Junior had won.
“Huzzah,” crowed the earl. “My sons have bested us. Caroline will be quite pleased with her young man.”
Dare looked over, baffled. The earl seemed genuinely pleased that he had lost. How was that even possible? Wasn’t winning everything?
The only thing?
Anything less was…failure. And Dare could not abide by failure.
It was obvious that the earl was not burdened by the same sentiment. As the group reunited, and the victors displayed their kills, they all rambled on about who shot what and how well the other performed.
“We will have to serve these birds at the wedding tomorrow. It will bring luck to our table,” announced the earl.
Dare could do nothing more than shake his head in disbelief. The man truly did not care he’d lost to a lesser adversary. And William, he just rode alongside, acting as though he’d never had a better partner. As though all those times they’d been a team didn’t matter. It was infuriating.
By the time they reached the house, Dare’s mood was beyond surly. After handing over his horse to the stable boy, he strode into the entrance of the hall, determined to stew alone in his room. Everyone else could go to hell.
“Milord,” he heard a footman call.
He didn’t bother to slow down.
“Milord! I have good news for you.”
Irritated, Dare stopped and turned on his heel. The sneer on his face gave the footman pause.
“Well?” he snapped.
“Oh, yes, sir—well, your carriage and luggage have arrived. Your man is unpacking it at this very moment. Oh, and there is a letter for you.”
The footman scuttled back to the table, swept an envelope off, and handed it to him. Dare took one look at the handwriting and snatched the paper from the startled servant before storming up to his room.
His man, Jackson, was in the room arranging his things.
“Good day, milord. I have put your belongings away and can prepare your clothes for dinner now.”
“Yes, do it with all haste and then get out. I’m in no mood for your chatter.”
Well used to his master’s curtness, Jackson took no offence to the insinuation that he “chattered.” Instead, he helped him out of his riding clothes and into a clean linen shirt, dove-gray trousers, and spotless boots. That being done, he
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