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Authors: Laura Landon
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known one horse from another until he’d shown her his stable. He was the person who’d given her the first glimpse into the world of Arabians and she’d fallen in love with them the minute she’d laid eyes on them. Just as he’d thought she’d fallen in love with him. Now she hated everything about them.
“It is better to sell the horse, then,” he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
Cassandra took a sip of her wine then lowered the glass and looked at him. She slowly turned the stem of the wine glass between her thumb and forefinger as her glaring gaze locked with his. “I agree. It is always better to separate oneself from unpleasant memories.”
Harrison tried to look away from her but for several interminable seconds no amount of effort could force him to turn his head and back down from the blade-sharp attack she’d issued.
He knew what she was doing. She’d come here as her first step in reentering society after her year-long mourning period. She’d chosen this opportunity to let it be known she was back to take her place as the widowed Marchioness of Lathamton.
She’d walked into his home as if she hadn’t shattered his every dream four years ago and left him with nothing. She’d intentionally let this be her first outing to remind him of the fool she’d made of him.
Well, she could bloody well forget it. She’d destroyed his life once. He wouldn’t give her a second chance. “Then by all means, sell the horse. You already have an offer.”
Harrison concentrated on the food on his plate and ignored the undivided attention Waverley continued to shower on Cassandra, as well as the open smiles she gave him in return.
If she’d come here to find a husband - or a lover - let her pick Waverley. Harrison didn’t care who she chose – as long as it wasn’t him.
She was a beautiful woman and wouldn’t have trouble finding someone to share her bed. The years with Lathamton had been good to her. If there was a hint of shadows around her midnight-blue eyes, he would attribute it to the strain of being out in public for the first time since her husband’s death a year ago.
If her smile did not reflect the glow of her inner beauty, he would blame it on the lighting, or perhaps on memories of the husband she’d obviously loved and lost.
But if she thought he would give her a second chance to destroy his heart like she’d done nearly four years ago, she was sadly mistaken. He’d give her over to her late husband’s cousin, or anyone else who’d take her, before he’d go through the pain he’d endured when he lost her.
Harrison turned his attention to his role as host and did a better job of keeping the conversation active. He should be happy Elly seemed to get along so well with Charfield. He could almost make himself believe his plan to make her forget her secret admirer might work.
If only he could believe that he’d survive the next two weeks as unscathed as he anticipated Elly would.
But he already knew it was highly unlikely.
Chapter 7
When the meal was over, the women rose in a flutter and followed Patience and Lilly from the dining room to a drawing room a few doors down the hall. The men would join them later, but for now they remained to have a glass of Harrison’s fine brandy and discuss the rich hunting prospects at The Down.
Elly was never so glad to make her escape in her life. Not only was the atmosphere between Harrison and Cassie heavy enough to drown a hearty swimmer, but Charfield, instead of one of her brothers, had been the one to hover over her all through their meal.
She’d always been able to depend on one of her siblings to come to her aid if she needed help, but during dinner every bit of their attention had been devoted to their guests. Charfield had been the one to engage her in conversation. He’d been the one who motioned for her wine glass to be refilled. He’d been the one who helped her to her feet when the ladies rose to
“It is better to sell the horse, then,” he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
Cassandra took a sip of her wine then lowered the glass and looked at him. She slowly turned the stem of the wine glass between her thumb and forefinger as her glaring gaze locked with his. “I agree. It is always better to separate oneself from unpleasant memories.”
Harrison tried to look away from her but for several interminable seconds no amount of effort could force him to turn his head and back down from the blade-sharp attack she’d issued.
He knew what she was doing. She’d come here as her first step in reentering society after her year-long mourning period. She’d chosen this opportunity to let it be known she was back to take her place as the widowed Marchioness of Lathamton.
She’d walked into his home as if she hadn’t shattered his every dream four years ago and left him with nothing. She’d intentionally let this be her first outing to remind him of the fool she’d made of him.
Well, she could bloody well forget it. She’d destroyed his life once. He wouldn’t give her a second chance. “Then by all means, sell the horse. You already have an offer.”
Harrison concentrated on the food on his plate and ignored the undivided attention Waverley continued to shower on Cassandra, as well as the open smiles she gave him in return.
If she’d come here to find a husband - or a lover - let her pick Waverley. Harrison didn’t care who she chose – as long as it wasn’t him.
She was a beautiful woman and wouldn’t have trouble finding someone to share her bed. The years with Lathamton had been good to her. If there was a hint of shadows around her midnight-blue eyes, he would attribute it to the strain of being out in public for the first time since her husband’s death a year ago.
If her smile did not reflect the glow of her inner beauty, he would blame it on the lighting, or perhaps on memories of the husband she’d obviously loved and lost.
But if she thought he would give her a second chance to destroy his heart like she’d done nearly four years ago, she was sadly mistaken. He’d give her over to her late husband’s cousin, or anyone else who’d take her, before he’d go through the pain he’d endured when he lost her.
Harrison turned his attention to his role as host and did a better job of keeping the conversation active. He should be happy Elly seemed to get along so well with Charfield. He could almost make himself believe his plan to make her forget her secret admirer might work.
If only he could believe that he’d survive the next two weeks as unscathed as he anticipated Elly would.
But he already knew it was highly unlikely.
Chapter 7
When the meal was over, the women rose in a flutter and followed Patience and Lilly from the dining room to a drawing room a few doors down the hall. The men would join them later, but for now they remained to have a glass of Harrison’s fine brandy and discuss the rich hunting prospects at The Down.
Elly was never so glad to make her escape in her life. Not only was the atmosphere between Harrison and Cassie heavy enough to drown a hearty swimmer, but Charfield, instead of one of her brothers, had been the one to hover over her all through their meal.
She’d always been able to depend on one of her siblings to come to her aid if she needed help, but during dinner every bit of their attention had been devoted to their guests. Charfield had been the one to engage her in conversation. He’d been the one who motioned for her wine glass to be refilled. He’d been the one who helped her to her feet when the ladies rose to
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