Read Online The Pretenders by Joan Wolf - Free Book Online

impressed by any of them. I judged them to be friends for good times, not the sort that one could count on when the chips were down.
    Richmond Park, on the outskirts of London, was known for its wonderful horse paths, where one could gallop full out to one’s heart’s content—unlike Hyde Park in central London, where one was constrained to a modified canter at best.
    It was faintly overcast when we left London for our expedition to Richmond, but the air seemed to clear as we drew closer and closer to the country. As we rode along, each of Reeve’s friends made a point of pushing their horses up alongside of mine so that they could speak to me. I would have thought that this was mere politeness, had I not found myself somewhat disconcerted by the outrageous compliments with which they bombarded me. After all, I was supposed to be engaged to Reeve. Wasn’t it inappropriate for them to make me the subject of such continuous and outrageous flattery?
    I could see that Reeve didn’t like it, either. The young women whom these men were ostensibly escorting didn’t seem to mind, however. They were too busy flirting with Reeve.
    Once we reached our destination, however, and Reeve gave our admission tickets in at the gate, the tenor of the afternoon changed. Reeve and I were able to give our horses free rein and gallop flat out along the wide, well-trimmed rides, easily outdistancing the rest of our party. It had been a long time since we had ridden together like this, and the sheer pleasure of it more than made up for the annoyances we had been forced to suffer along the way.
    Reeve had arranged for a picnic to be brought from London for us, and when we returned to the grassy, tree-enclosed area where such informal meals took place, it was already laid out by several of the Lambeth House footmen. There was champagne for the gentlemen, tea for the ladies, and an assortment of cold meats and breads and cakes to eat.
    I took a glass of champagne and a plate of cold chicken and went to sit at one of the simple wooden trestle tables provided by the park.
    Reeve left his groom, who had been driving the curricle with the food, and came up to stand across the table from me. “Don’t drink too much of that stuff, Deb,” he warned. “You’ve got to stay in the saddle on the way home, remember.”
    “I believe I can manage one glass of champagne, Reeve, without putting myself in danger of falling off my horse,” I returned haughtily.
    “I’m sure you can, Miss Woodly,” said one of Reeve’s friends, a silly, blond-haired fellow named Hampton, who took the seat next to me and looked at me with unabashed admiration. ”Dashed if you don’t have the best seat on a horse I’ve ever seen on a woman.”
    Now
this
was a compliment I could appreciate. “Thank you, Mr. Hampton,” I said, giving him a smile that was not a mere social twitch of the lips.
    He blinked and beamed back at me.
    “Aren’t you going to get yourself some food, Hampton?” Reeve growled. ”Or do you think making a cake of yourself over my fiancée is sufficient nourishment?”
    Mr. Hampton glanced at the expression on Reeve’s face, and his silly smile disappeared. He stood up hastily. “Just going, old fellow. No need to fly up into the boughs, you know.”
    I glanced up at Reeve and was surprised to see him looking so thunderous.
    “Why don’t you take your own advice and get some food?” I said mildly.
    He grunted. He was looking at me with his brows drawn together as if he were not pleased.
    “Are you really that upset that I am drinking champagne?” I inquired.
    “What? No, of course not.”
    One of the women in the party, a young widow who was accompanying one of Reeve’s friends, came over to us with a plate of food in her hands.
    “You are not eating, Lord Cambridge?” she asked archly. She gazed up at him out of sultry green eyes. ”Allow me to get you something.”
    Good God
, I thought irritably,
she sounds as if she were