Only a Mistress Will Do by Jenna Jaxon

Author:Jenna Jaxon [Jaxon, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, General, Regency
Publisher: KENSINGTON
Published: 2017-04-03T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Crisp air crackled in Tris’s nose as he sat atop Rufus, Downing’s roan gelding, surveying the five inches of fresh snow that sparkled over the front lawn of Harper’s Grange next morning. A bracing morning for a ride. He hoped Dora lived up to her estimation of herself as a horsewoman. If not he’d feel like Jack Adams having gone on about how she’d be fine to ride out in the snow. Downing had grumbled, but finally acquiesced.

A slow crunch, crunch of hooves on the fresh snow carpet drew his attention to the corner of the manor. Dora rounded the side of the house on a gray mare who pranced and arched her neck, ears flicked forward.

She smiled and patted the gray’s withers. “There, there Gretchen. We’ll be away in no time.” Seeing Tris, she nodded to him. “Good morning, my lord.”

“It is always a good morning when I’m met with such a charming sight.” His gaze swept her form from top to toe, taking in the trim figure in pale blue wool riding habit, trimmed in dashing gold braid. A fashionable small black tricorn, also trimmed in gold and cocked at a jaunty angle, perched on her golden hair. Her cheeks, already pink from the cold, grew even redder. She ducked her head and adjusted her grip on the reins.

“You are too kind, my lord.” She surveyed him in turn, leaned toward him, her lips slightly parted, then hesitated and sat back in the saddle.

“Shall we view the estate first, then the village?” Tris hurried to fill the silence left by her unspoken comment. “We won’t want to stay overlong out in the cold.”

A shy smile and enthusiastic nod and he nudged his horse toward hers. They set out down the drive at a sedate walk. The countryside spread out around them, covered with a blanket of snow, reminded Tris of a particular sugary cake the family cook used to make. The clean expanse looked so pure he almost hated to mar it with their hoof prints.

“If you truly want to see the estate, we shall have to leave the road, my lord.” Dora’s voice sounded unusually loud in the cold air.

“By all means.” Was she actually taking the lead?

“This way.” With a practiced hand, Dora turned the mare to the left and struck out across the untouched lawn, urging her horse to a trot.

Tris gave her her head and followed, amazed at the change in his bride-to-be. Here with him she seemed more confident, more at ease.

They headed toward a stand of tall oaks on the perimeter of the parkland, passing a large pond, frozen solid. Particles of snow skittered across it in the brisk wind. Dora pulled her horse to a stop, waiting for him to catch up. “The pond is stocked in summer with all manner of fish—carp and pike mostly, I believe. Do you enjoy fishing, my lord?”

He had to chuckle. “Although I will eat it, I confess I have never attempted to actually catch one.

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