Suzanne Enoch by Angel's Devil

Author:Angel's Devil [Devil, Angel's]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-02-05T13:39:09+00:00

Page 67

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Good morning, Hastings. Saddle Admiral and Heaven, if you please."

As the groom nodded and turned for the stables, James emerged mounted on the hunter, Pharaoh. With a nod at them and a kick, he sent the stallion off at a gallop toward the lake.

"He's a grand rider, ain't he?" Henry's admiring voice came from the manor path, echoing her own thoughts. She'd been curious to try Pharaoh herself, though she hadn't found an opportunity to bring it up with the marquis.

"Henry, why don't you stay here with Hastings?" Simon unexpectedly suggested. "He'll help you practice your jumps."

In the blink of an eye Henry's stubborn and disappointed look turned to a pleased smile. "Would you, Hastings?"

The grizzled head groom grinned at him. "My pleasure, Master Henry."

As soon as they were mounted, Simon started them off at a sedate trot along the lake path. "Are you enjoying Abbon-ley?"

Angel nodded. "It's enchanting," she smiled, gazing over to her right where she could just see the glitter of the lake through the trees.

"My father's estate at Wansglen is a great deal like this, though not nearly so grand." He glanced over at her. "Of course Turbin Hall is quite interesting, as well. Have I told you it still has some of the original furniture from when Henry the Eighth came to visit my great-grandfather?"

"It . . . hasn't been touched at all since then, you mean?" Angel queried.

"Oh, heavens no. Grandmama refers to it as the Talbott museum." He gave a short smile. "None of this modernizing James is so fascinated with. Windows, for example. With the tax on them, how many does one actually need? And yet James even had more put in for his kitchens. I'll admit that some innovations might be handy, but after awhile a place loses its sense of history, don't you think?"

"Oh, of course," Angel returned weakly. She'd several times complained that her mother treated Niston like a mu-seum, where no one was supposed to move a stick of fur-niture without first conferring with all the ancestral bones buried in the family cemetery. And Niston was less than half as old as Turbin Hall.

When they reached the picturesque stone bridge that spanned the stream by the far side of the lake, Simon un-expectedly stopped and dismounted, then stepped over to help her down as well. He took Angel's hand and led her over to sit on the low wall of the bridge beside him.

"I'm pleased you came here," he said, "and I hope that this plan with James hasn't offended you. I know he can be something of a . . . rakehell, I suppose is the word."

"Not at all," she answered truthfully, for she enjoyed the marquis's spirited company, and his flirting. He wasn't at all high in the instep like many of the titled English. Apparently, being a rake had its advantages.

Sometimes she wished she could emulate him, for then she could behave as she fancied, and hang the consequences.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.