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Authors: Bronwyn Scott
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softly.
Whatever her ambitions, she’d not had practice in articulating
them. He could see her mind debating if she should tell him, if she could trust
him. She shot him a hard look, her defences up in the tilt of her chin,
apparently unaware what a watershed event this was for him. Lord, that look of
hers made him hard. Phaedra in full defiance made him want to haul her up
against the wall.
‘I need something of my own. This isn’t just about the Derby.
That’s only the beginning. I want to create a grand stud, a breeding and
training facility that rivals any in England, north or south.’
Bram let out a low whistle. That was an enormous ambition and an exciting one; it was something he’d like to do if he could ever raise enough funds or
settle down long enough. ‘Does your brother know?’
‘He knows. He doesn’t understand, not really. It’s different
for a woman.’ Phaedra played idly with a piece of straw but Bram could hear the
untold story behind that sentence. A man like Giles wouldn’t fully understand.
Montague had his military career. He had been in charge of his life. Now he had
this property to oversee and a dukedom coming his way eventually. As a man,
Phaedra’s brother took his independence for granted, a natural assumption of his
life. But Phaedra could make no such assumption.
‘I’m not a baby any more, not a child. I can do things,’
Phaedra said with no little frustration. ‘I just have to make Giles see
that.’
She was the youngest. Bram had forgotten. When he looked at
her, he didn’t see a child but a lovely young woman. Naturally, Giles would want
to protect her; young and female, a man like him would see her as someone to
shelter, especially after the other losses Tom Anderson had mentioned.
‘And Warbourne is the key to this dynastic vision of yours?’
Bram asked lightly.
Phaedra pulled her gaze from the straw she’d been twisting.
‘Yes.’
‘Just yes? That’s an awfully big risk to take with an untried
colt.’ He remembered with clarity Giles handing over the pearl set to the
auctioneer. Warbourne had cost Phaedra dearly.
‘Not really, not if you know what you’re doing.’ Phaedra rose
and brushed off her skirts, bringing the conversation to an abrupt, regretful
end. Bram could have kept talking to her all night, another revelation. Usually
by now he would have...well, never mind that. He pushed his more erotic thoughts
aside with a hard mental shove.
‘I shouldn’t be telling you all this, I hardly know you and you
hardly know me. You’re probably thinking I’m a spoiled little rich girl. I have
all of these horses to play with and yet it isn’t enough.’ She was back to not
trusting him. He wanted to change that. He wanted to tell her he had no desire
to see her retreat from the stables or from her dreams but she wouldn’t believe
him, not yet.
Bram’s hot thoughts shoved back. She looked irresistible in the
lantern light, the upsweep of her hair setting off the curve of her jaw to
delicate perfection, the slope of her shoulder leading the eye to the low bodice
of her gown and the soft swell of her breasts beneath.
‘I’m not thinking that at all, I’m thinking what could possibly
drive this beautiful woman to such lengths? To want things it’s not usual for a
woman of your background to want, especially when it means giving up something
as enormous as a Season.’ He knew London and its intrigues intimately. The
Season was her gateway to marriage, security and respectability, three things a
woman treasured as much as her virginity. Even a duke’s daughter understood the
necessity for a good Season, a good match. Finding a successful match would be
easier than getting Warbourne to win the Derby.
That got her attention. ‘You think I’m beautiful?’ she
whispered in surprise.
‘Mmm-hmm.’ Bram rose and stepped towards her. He watched her
pulse catch at the base of her throat as he caressed her cheek with the back of
his hand. He cradled
Whatever her ambitions, she’d not had practice in articulating
them. He could see her mind debating if she should tell him, if she could trust
him. She shot him a hard look, her defences up in the tilt of her chin,
apparently unaware what a watershed event this was for him. Lord, that look of
hers made him hard. Phaedra in full defiance made him want to haul her up
against the wall.
‘I need something of my own. This isn’t just about the Derby.
That’s only the beginning. I want to create a grand stud, a breeding and
training facility that rivals any in England, north or south.’
Bram let out a low whistle. That was an enormous ambition and an exciting one; it was something he’d like to do if he could ever raise enough funds or
settle down long enough. ‘Does your brother know?’
‘He knows. He doesn’t understand, not really. It’s different
for a woman.’ Phaedra played idly with a piece of straw but Bram could hear the
untold story behind that sentence. A man like Giles wouldn’t fully understand.
Montague had his military career. He had been in charge of his life. Now he had
this property to oversee and a dukedom coming his way eventually. As a man,
Phaedra’s brother took his independence for granted, a natural assumption of his
life. But Phaedra could make no such assumption.
‘I’m not a baby any more, not a child. I can do things,’
Phaedra said with no little frustration. ‘I just have to make Giles see
that.’
She was the youngest. Bram had forgotten. When he looked at
her, he didn’t see a child but a lovely young woman. Naturally, Giles would want
to protect her; young and female, a man like him would see her as someone to
shelter, especially after the other losses Tom Anderson had mentioned.
‘And Warbourne is the key to this dynastic vision of yours?’
Bram asked lightly.
Phaedra pulled her gaze from the straw she’d been twisting.
‘Yes.’
‘Just yes? That’s an awfully big risk to take with an untried
colt.’ He remembered with clarity Giles handing over the pearl set to the
auctioneer. Warbourne had cost Phaedra dearly.
‘Not really, not if you know what you’re doing.’ Phaedra rose
and brushed off her skirts, bringing the conversation to an abrupt, regretful
end. Bram could have kept talking to her all night, another revelation. Usually
by now he would have...well, never mind that. He pushed his more erotic thoughts
aside with a hard mental shove.
‘I shouldn’t be telling you all this, I hardly know you and you
hardly know me. You’re probably thinking I’m a spoiled little rich girl. I have
all of these horses to play with and yet it isn’t enough.’ She was back to not
trusting him. He wanted to change that. He wanted to tell her he had no desire
to see her retreat from the stables or from her dreams but she wouldn’t believe
him, not yet.
Bram’s hot thoughts shoved back. She looked irresistible in the
lantern light, the upsweep of her hair setting off the curve of her jaw to
delicate perfection, the slope of her shoulder leading the eye to the low bodice
of her gown and the soft swell of her breasts beneath.
‘I’m not thinking that at all, I’m thinking what could possibly
drive this beautiful woman to such lengths? To want things it’s not usual for a
woman of your background to want, especially when it means giving up something
as enormous as a Season.’ He knew London and its intrigues intimately. The
Season was her gateway to marriage, security and respectability, three things a
woman treasured as much as her virginity. Even a duke’s daughter understood the
necessity for a good Season, a good match. Finding a successful match would be
easier than getting Warbourne to win the Derby.
That got her attention. ‘You think I’m beautiful?’ she
whispered in surprise.
‘Mmm-hmm.’ Bram rose and stepped towards her. He watched her
pulse catch at the base of her throat as he caressed her cheek with the back of
his hand. He cradled
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