“If I remain hidden,” he said, his voice hoarse, “will you allow me to watch you train Bashshar?”
She smiled as though considering his request. “Absolutely not,” she said, opening the gate bolt and strolling inside the paddock.
He heard Bashshar whinny as she entered, and Dalton realized, for the first time since the accident, the stallion had his thoughts on something other than the explosion of gunfire that had terrified him.
For that, Dalton owed Alicia a great deal.
Chapter Five
A few minutes before midnight of the following evening, Alicia stared at the full moon through the bedroom windows above her bed. The silver light cast lacy shadows across the rumpled silk sheets. Suddenly, the clock above the mantel struck midnight. For the past three hours she had tossed and turned, unable to sleep, the unbidden face of Dalton Warfield, the duke of Wexton, haunting her.
She buried her head beneath the pillow. In spite of her busy schedule, thoughts of him had intruded into her daydreams. What was the matter with her?
Through the open window, the faint strains of a waltz floated from the manor ballroom, feeding her imagination. She could almost feel Dalton’s right hand at her waist, her fingers pressing lightly at his broad shoulder as he held her in his arms and led her in step to the music. Her blood soared with the thought.
She saw herself dressed in a low-cut gown of shimmery white chiffon, a striking contrast to Dalton’s dark good looks. They would glide across the ballroom, whirling to the music as the guests stood in awe of the beautiful couple waltzing before them.
“You don’t belong here!” screamed a shrill voice. The crowd parted and the dowager duchess scowled down from her throne, thumping her diamond-studded cane as the room fell into a deafening silence.
Alicia bolted upright in bed, her heart hammering. She glanced about the moonlit room, then finally caught her breath. Her mother always said that moonglow could drive a person crazy. Thick draperies had kept away the lunar rays at Marston Heath windows. As a child, Alicia had rebelliously thrown open the shades and basked in the moonlight after her mother had carefully shuttered the windows for the night.
Maybe her mother had been right, and Alicia now suffered from sheer lunacy. What other reason could there be for her dreaming of Wexton?
She sighed as she ran a hand through her tousled hair. She had suffered enough. Moonlight shone bright enough for her to go horseback riding. The idea lifted her spirits. She rose from her bed and dressed hastily in the moonlight. A lit candle might wake Marie, the young French maid, sleeping in the next room. Olivia had insisted the girl remain with her in the cottage and tend to her every need.
When Alicia had finished dressing, she brushed her thick, waist-length hair, securing the long curls with a green ribbon. Quietly, she tiptoed outside and made her way along the cottage path to the tall, neatly clipped boxwood that sheltered the rose garden.
When she reached the arbor, she paused to stare at the golden glow coming from the manor. A thousand candles must be burning from the hundreds of windows. She felt like a spy. The thought was frightening, yet strangely exciting. She dare not venture any farther, least she stumble upon a wayward guest.
She smoothed her hand along the empire neckline of the high-waisted jade gown. At least Alicia wouldn’t call attention to herself if one of the houseguests were to come upon her—that is, if they didn’t already know who she was.
Alicia ducked into the stable and hurried to Cinnamon Rose’s stall. The frisky mare tossed its head in greeting. When she finished saddling the horse, she stepped up to the mounting block and arranged herself on the sidesaddle. Ten minutes later, she was pacing the animal into an easy canter, heading toward the open fields.
What a glorious night! The full moon rode high in the sky, casting upon the earth almost daylight brightness. The wind blew through her hair, whipping her face with cool, clover-scented air. Horses and riding had always calmed her spirit, and hopefully a night ride, if only for the moment, might block the painful fact that she didn’t belong with the beautiful people twirling beneath the crystal chandeliers.
When Alicia had returned from her ride, the sound of hurried footsteps caused her to duck behind the boxwood hedge. She recognized Lady Olivia rushing along the path that led to the sheltered trees in front of Alicia’s cottage. “Lady Olivia, what’s the matter?”
Olivia started, then turned toward her. “Oh, Lady Alicia, I’m looking for Dalton. By chance, have you seen him?”
“Why, no. I thought he was at the ball.”
Olivia shook her head, her brows furrowed with concern. “No, he hasn’t been seen since this morning.” She wrung her hands. “Something dreadful has happened, and I must find him.”
The thought that Dalton was with Elizabeth came to Alicia’s mind. “Have you asked Elizabeth?”
Olivia’s breath quickened. “I’m afraid Elizabeth is in no condition to answer any questions.” Olivia glanced around as if she were afraid to be overheard, then she stepped toward Alicia. “Elizabeth embarrassed herself this evening with the earl of Rothbury. Mother is frantic and determined that Dalton announce his engagement to Elizabeth, before news of this becomes known.”
“Elizabeth embarrassed herself?”
Olivia’s face looked pale in the moonlight. “I think she was only trying to make Dalton jealous. But she and Lord Rothbury were drinking. Thankfully, Lord Templestone found them before anyone else saw them. He notified Mother.” Olivia paused. “Oh, my dear, forgive me for my insensitivity. This news must remind you of…”
Alicia was touched by Olivia’s compassion. “It’s quite all right, Lady Olivia.” She swallowed, realizing that Olivia, as well as the other members of the ton, knew the embarrassing details. “Then Dalton will marry Elizabeth?”
Olivia shook her head. “No, he mustn’t! I have to alert Dalton before our mother finds him.”
“I don’t understand—”
“I don’t have time now to explain it to you, Alicia. Please help me find my brother.”
“Of course.” Alicia took Olivia’s arm and urged her toward the stable. “Let’s ask the stable master if a horse was saddled for Dalton.”
“I’ve already asked Ulger. He said Dalton usually saddles his own mount. Penn said the sorrel that he favors is missing from the stable.” Olivia’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Oh, where can he be this time of night?”
“Who are you looking for?” Dalton’s deep voice caused Alicia and Olivia to gasp in surprise. He stepped from the shadows, leading the sorrel beside him.
Relief welled within Alicia as she drank in the sight of him. Dalton was dressed in a royal-blue riding clothes. The moonlight gave a blue-black sheen to his hair.
“Dalton,” Olivia cried, clasping her hands. “Lord Templestone found Elizabeth with the earl of Rothbury. She’d drank too much and caused a great scene. Thankfully, Templestone can be trusted, but Mother is determined that you announce your engagement to her before the ton hears of this.”
Dalton
