children,’ Georgina explained rather unnecessarily. ‘William is five, and Flora is three.’ She turned to her son. ‘Now, William, where do you think your uncle might be?’
William’s eyes lit up and he was halfway across the lawn before Flora provided the answer.
‘Horses. Horses. He’s with horses,’ she chanted, flinging herself after her brother much to the nursemaid’s despair.
‘Shall we go and find him?’ Georgina suggested.
Lina nodded her agreement, feeling the excitement swell inside her. She’d known there would be horses on the estate—all the nobility seemed to have them to pull their carriages and to hunt with—but the idea that she might get to ride some of the magnificent animals had never even crossed her mind. She loved horses, loved feeling the wind in her hair as she galloped through the countryside, that sensation of freedom, but the horses her extended family owned were mainly slow, plodding beasts more accustomed to pulling heavy carts than being ridden for pleasure.
‘Lord Whitemore likes to ride?’ Lina asked casually as Georgina linked arms with her and together they followed the two children across the lawn and to the side of the house.
Georgina gave her a slightly curious sidelong look. ‘Yes, my brother likes to ride,’ she confirmed eventually.
They passed through a lovingly tended rose garden before entering a tree-lined walk that filtered some of the sunlight, giving the path a wonderfully dappled effect.
‘If you ever find yourself searching for my brother, this is where he will be,’ Georgina declared as they emerged into a large, dusty courtyard. Lord Whitemore was nowhere to be seen. ‘Well, not here exactly, but somewhere with his beloved horses.’
Daintily Georgina hopped over a pile of manure and led Lina past an assortment of stables and outbuildings to where the fields stretched out before them. In the foreground was a large fenced-off area.
As they drew closer, Lina couldn’t take her eyes off the magnificent, rearing beast that was snorting and stomping in the riding yard. Its coat was a beautiful chestnut brown that glistened in the sunlight and it was by far the biggest horse Lina had ever seen. Currently it didn’t appear too happy, tossing its head and taking hurried little steps sideways, letting out snorts of frustration.
Lina’s gaze was torn from the horse as a figure sauntered across her eyeline. He was tall and particularly muscular, something she could attest to due to the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Sweat dripped over his torso and as he moved Lina thought he looked rather like one of the illustrations in her most treasured book, Greek Gods, Heroes and Myths.
Lord Whitemore approached the horse again, murmuring softly to it words that Lina could not hear, but could see the calming effect they had on the animal. He paused when he was about two feet away, the horse still stomping nervously. Lina was mesmerised; this was the ultimate battle for power and trust, one that she could see Lord Whitemore was well practised at negotiating.
Confidently but slowly he took another step forward, laying a hand on the animal’s neck and stroking softly, still murmuring his soothing words. The horse calmed, became still, and Lina saw the exact moment it capitulated and allowed Lord Whitemore to stroke it gently without any consequence.
Man and beast stood together for a few seconds before Lord Whitemore produced a simple halter.
‘Enough for today,’ Lina heard him whisper, and was amazed as the only recently calmed horse allowed him to slip on the halter and lead it to the edge of the pen. A stable boy quickly opened the gate, but stood back and let Lord Whitemore past rather than taking the animal back to the stables himself.
Lina watched enviously as the animal disappeared from view. She had ridden her fair share of wild horses in her time. She knew how to approach them, how to calm them and how to mount them, but she’d always chosen animals of moderate size, ones that would not cause her too much injury when they inevitably threw her. Every bone of her body wanted to be able to do what Lord Whitemore had just done and more.
‘Ah, Miss Lock. I’d completely forgotten you were arriving today,’ Lord Whitemore said as he emerged from the stables a couple of minutes later.
‘See? There in body, but not in mind,’ Georgina muttered.
Lina bobbed a clumsy curtsy, not knowing where to look as she rose. Lord Whitemore was still topless, but as she watched he grabbed a simple white shirt that was draped over the fence and pulled it over his head. His tanned and muscular torso was still partially visible through the thin white material, especially as it clung to the sweat on his body. Lina swallowed and tried to compose herself. She didn’t know why she was quite so affected by Lord Whitemore’s unexpected half nakedness. In the hot summer months most of the gypsy men she travelled with would set up for the fairs clothed in just their trousers. Lina was no stranger to bare chests and relaxed attitudes to clothing, but something about seeing Lord Whitemore like it had set her heart hammering.
‘What sort of horse was that?’ Lina asked, recovering enough to focus on what was important.
Lord Whitemore and Georgina exchanged glances.
‘You’re interested in horses?’ Lord Whitemore asked.
‘I love horses. He looked like an Arabian.’
‘What have I done?’ Georgina murmured as Lord Whitemore grinned. ‘Another horse lover.’
‘Well, these six weeks have just become a lot more tolerable,’ Lord Whitemore said.
Lina bristled, but forgot her indignation as Lord Whitemore offered her his arm and started explaining the origin and breed of his latest horse.
What had he got himself into? Alex let his head sink into his hands for a fraction of a second, before straightening up. This would not defeat him. He was a man who had broken in the most difficult of horses—he would not be beaten by a girl’s incessant questioning and arguing.
‘It’s stupid,’ Lina repeated. ‘What does it matter if I call your sister Lady Georgina or Lady Pentworthy? Both are respectful, both give you an idea who she is.’
Alex counted to five before answering. ‘But neither is correct. One more time. Lady Pentworthy would be the wife of Lord Pentworthy. Lady Georgina would be the daughter of a titled gentleman, in this case a marquess.’
‘Which she is,’ Lina said through gritted teeth. ‘So why is it incorrect to address her as Lady Georgina?’
‘She is now married to Mr Pentworthy, so she becomes Lady Georgina Pentworthy. A quirk of marrying a husband of lower rank.’
‘A ridiculous quirk,’ Lina muttered under her breath. ‘It would be much simpler to dispense with all these stupid rules and titles and just call everyone by their actual names.’
‘I will forward your suggestion to the Prince Regent,’ Alex said drily.
He watched as Lina flopped dramatically back in the brown leather armchair situated by the veranda doors in the library. It was only their first day and to ease her into her lessons to become the perfect debutante Alex had
