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Authors: The Matchmaker-1
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smoothing the mare’s forelock.
But Neville felt no compulsion to pray for Kitti. She was a natural racer and her success was ensured. It was his own
that worried him. And though it should not, Miss Olivia Byrde’s unsettling entrance into his life had somehow made it seem much more difficult.
Olivia spent the morning seething. She’d barricaded herself in the library, even going so far as to lock the door. But Neville Hawke had not followed her this time. He’d been every bit as crude and insulting as before, but at least he’d not followed her.
How was she possibly to keep these two incidents to herself? It wouldn’t be so bad if she weren’t going to be cast in his path again. But they were guests in the same household, come to Doncaster for the same purpose, and bound to encounter one another at all the same social and sporting events.
Her stomach let out an unbecoming growl and she halted her pacing. She hadn’t gone in to breakfast for fear of finding him there. The fact that she’d spied him and another man riding out with several horses a half hour ago hadn’t been sufficient to draw her to the dining room either. For her mother and Penny Cummings must be up by now, and she had no particular desire to face them. She was that angry and unsettled by the awful Lord Hawke.
Her stomach growled again and she flung herself into a chair. She flipped her journal open and ruffled through the pages. How could he have thought her that sort of woman? What in her writing could possibly suggest that sort of lewd behavior?
“He needs no such excuses,” she muttered. “A coarse mind such as his could create filth in anything.” Still she searched. Keeps a fine stable . She turned a page. Rather an earthy sort. Generous natured. She flipped to still another entry. Excessively attached to his mother.
What was there to misunderstand in any of that? Then she turned to a blank page and reached for the pen and inkwell she’d located in a desk drawer.
“Lord H.,” she began, saying the words out loud as she wrote. “Drinks too much. Ill-mannered and altogether too bold.” She tapped the feather end of the quill against her chin.
“Though rough-edged, he is tall and reasonably handsome,” she continued, pursing her lips in disapproval. “But he proves the rule that looks can be deceiving.”
Ill-suited for marriage , she added, underlining it twice.
She would write more about him later, she decided. It would be interesting to see whether he tried to correct her initial reaction to him. As for herself, she meant to stay aloof and distant from him. Very distant. Under no circumstances would she allow herself to be caught alone with that man again. But she should not appear so rude as to arouse her mother’s suspicions. That would never do. Fortunately Lord Holdsworth would capture most of Augusta’s attention.
Olivia blotted her entry with a bit of felt then closed her book. Only four more days, then she would be gone from here, never to deal with the awful Lord Hawke again.
God grant her the strength to endure it.
Neville was elated—and he wanted a drink to celebrate. He wanted it in the worst way. But he had set himself a test and he was bound to pass it. No drinking until tonight’s ball, and then only watered wine.
“She’s a mover,” Holdsworth admitted, clapping him on the back. “How many years will you run her before breeding her?”
“A season or two on the courses is all I expect of her.”
“I want her first foal—colt or filly, it matters naught. I want her first foal, Hawke, unless you will change your mind and sell her to me now. The offer I made earlier still stands, and I’ll match any other offers you might receive.”
Neville nodded and winked at Bart. Kitti had placed first in the trials today, outshining several very good animals. As such she would have the coveted inside position for tomorrow’s race. His blood roared, pumping exhilaration throughout his body.
But Neville felt no compulsion to pray for Kitti. She was a natural racer and her success was ensured. It was his own
that worried him. And though it should not, Miss Olivia Byrde’s unsettling entrance into his life had somehow made it seem much more difficult.
Olivia spent the morning seething. She’d barricaded herself in the library, even going so far as to lock the door. But Neville Hawke had not followed her this time. He’d been every bit as crude and insulting as before, but at least he’d not followed her.
How was she possibly to keep these two incidents to herself? It wouldn’t be so bad if she weren’t going to be cast in his path again. But they were guests in the same household, come to Doncaster for the same purpose, and bound to encounter one another at all the same social and sporting events.
Her stomach let out an unbecoming growl and she halted her pacing. She hadn’t gone in to breakfast for fear of finding him there. The fact that she’d spied him and another man riding out with several horses a half hour ago hadn’t been sufficient to draw her to the dining room either. For her mother and Penny Cummings must be up by now, and she had no particular desire to face them. She was that angry and unsettled by the awful Lord Hawke.
Her stomach growled again and she flung herself into a chair. She flipped her journal open and ruffled through the pages. How could he have thought her that sort of woman? What in her writing could possibly suggest that sort of lewd behavior?
“He needs no such excuses,” she muttered. “A coarse mind such as his could create filth in anything.” Still she searched. Keeps a fine stable . She turned a page. Rather an earthy sort. Generous natured. She flipped to still another entry. Excessively attached to his mother.
What was there to misunderstand in any of that? Then she turned to a blank page and reached for the pen and inkwell she’d located in a desk drawer.
“Lord H.,” she began, saying the words out loud as she wrote. “Drinks too much. Ill-mannered and altogether too bold.” She tapped the feather end of the quill against her chin.
“Though rough-edged, he is tall and reasonably handsome,” she continued, pursing her lips in disapproval. “But he proves the rule that looks can be deceiving.”
Ill-suited for marriage , she added, underlining it twice.
She would write more about him later, she decided. It would be interesting to see whether he tried to correct her initial reaction to him. As for herself, she meant to stay aloof and distant from him. Very distant. Under no circumstances would she allow herself to be caught alone with that man again. But she should not appear so rude as to arouse her mother’s suspicions. That would never do. Fortunately Lord Holdsworth would capture most of Augusta’s attention.
Olivia blotted her entry with a bit of felt then closed her book. Only four more days, then she would be gone from here, never to deal with the awful Lord Hawke again.
God grant her the strength to endure it.
Neville was elated—and he wanted a drink to celebrate. He wanted it in the worst way. But he had set himself a test and he was bound to pass it. No drinking until tonight’s ball, and then only watered wine.
“She’s a mover,” Holdsworth admitted, clapping him on the back. “How many years will you run her before breeding her?”
“A season or two on the courses is all I expect of her.”
“I want her first foal—colt or filly, it matters naught. I want her first foal, Hawke, unless you will change your mind and sell her to me now. The offer I made earlier still stands, and I’ll match any other offers you might receive.”
Neville nodded and winked at Bart. Kitti had placed first in the trials today, outshining several very good animals. As such she would have the coveted inside position for tomorrow’s race. His blood roared, pumping exhilaration throughout his body.
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