“Enjoy your ride, Dr. Nathan?” Hopkins asked, coming from the tack room to greet him.

“It was… stimulating.” And intriguing. He inwardly winced. And painfully arousing.

“Stimulating, eh?” Hopkins nodded thoughtfully. “A ride with a beautiful woman is often just that.” He jerked his head toward the doorway where Colin, Gordon, and Victoria were engaged in a lively conversation. “Seems like there’s some competition fer her attention.”

Nathan’s shoulders tensed. “I’m not in competition for her favors.”

“ ‘Course yer not. She’s got eyes only for you.”

Nathan’s head whipped around to face Hopkins. “What do you mean?”

Clearly his voice was sharper man he’d intended because Hopkins eyed him with a combination of hurt and surprise. “Beg yer pardon, Dr. Nathan. Meant no disrespect. ‘Tis just we used to always speak plainly to each other.”

Nathan dragged a hand through his hair and silently cursed his thoughtlessness. Hopkins had been with his family since before he was born, and he’d always viewed the kindly man who loved horses as much as he did as a friend. “We still can speak plainly,” Nathan said, clasping the older man’s shoulder. “Forgive me. It’s just that your words startled me.”

Hopkins acknowledged the apology with a nod, then said, “Surprises me, that does. Usually yer keen observant. Ye didn’t see the way she looked at ye?”

“As a matter of fact I did. She looked as if she wanted to skewer me then roast me over a slow flame.”

“Yep, that was the look.” Hopkins chuckled. “Got it bad fer ye, she does.” He narrowed his eyes at Nathan. “Wonder if she noticed the way ye look at her?”

“As if I wanted to toss her into the first coach leaving Cornwall?”

“No, like she were a ripe peach ye wanted to pluck. Then feast on.”

Damn it all, when had he become so bloody transparent? Before he could voice a denial, Hopkins chuckled. “And ye don’t look happy about it, either. No point in denyin‘ it. Been able to read ye like a book since ye were a lad.” He squinted toward the now empty doorway. Obviously the trio had walked away. “A well-favored filly, Lady Victoria is. Spirited-I can tell. And a fine rider. Still, a pampered London diamond… not the sort of lady ye used to fancy. And would be my guess that yer not the sort of man she usually takes a shine to.”

“Oh? And what sort of man am I?”

“ ‘Tis more the sort of man yer not. Yer not one of them fancy London swells with yer nose hoisted in the air traipsing from party to club to gamin’ hell and back again. Yer a decent, hardworking man. No offense meant to the lady, but I doubt she’s ever looked twice at someone as lowly as a doctor. Understandable. But she’s lookin‘ now.” He shot Nathan a pointed look. “And yer lookin’ back.”

“You seem to have divined an awful lot in a short amount of time,” Nathan said.

Hopkins shrugged. “ ‘Tis my nature to study folks.”

Before Nathan could make any further reply, a commotion was heard outside, followed by a loud cry that unmistakably came from Victoria. “Oh! What are you doing? Stop!”

Nathan raced toward the doors, Hopkins directly behind him. When he emerged, he skidded to a halt, his gaze raking over the tableau before him. Gordon and Colin, both looking chagrined, knelt next to Victoria, who was crouched down and clutching her hem of her gown. Her face was devoid of color. All three were staring at Petunia, who stood near them, her fuzzy chin working back and forth as she chewed.

Nathan strode forward and crouched next to Victoria, alarmed at her pallor. Grasping her upper arms, he asked tersely, “Are you all right? What happened?”

“That idiotic goat of yours is what happened,” Gordon said, his tone dripping with disgust. “Not only did the beast scare poor Lady Victoria to death, it gnawed a hole in her riding costume. That animal is a menace. Why, it could have bitten her.”

Nathan’s gaze shifted to Petunia, who flicked her tail then sashayed toward the pen. Returning his attention to Victoria, he said, “You’re not hurt, are you?”

After she shook her head, he rose, helping her to her feet. “My apologies. Petunia is famous for nibbling on things she shouldn’t. I’m sure your riding costume can be repaired. If not, I’ll see that it is replaced.”

“It is not my riding costume that concerns me,” she said in a choked voice. She stared up at him with stricken eyes. “It is your note.”

“What about my note?”

“Your goat just ate it.”

Ten

Today’s Modern Woman should never waste the opportunity to view a superior male specimen, particularly if he is in some state of undress. If faced with such a stroke of good fortune, she should not allow modesty to dictate that she squander such a lucky turn of events. Enjoy the moment, look your fill, and be prepared for what might happen next.


A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore


Her stomach churning with disbelief and dread, Victoria watched Nathan’s eyes narrow. She expected him to shout, but instead he said with quiet, icy calm, “I beg your pardon?”

She swallowed. “Your note. It was eaten. By your goat.”

“Please tell me that is just a hideously bad rhyme.”

“It is a hideously bad rhyme. But true, nonetheless.” His gaze dropped, arrowing in on the ragged spot of forest green hem she still clutched in a white-knuckled grip. “You’d sewn it into your hem.”

“Yes.”

His gaze jumped back to hers, pinning her in place. “You led me to believe it was in the house.”

“I never said that. I said I would return it to you once we were back here.”

“Why didn’t you simply return it at the beach? Knowing your sewing abilities, it surely wouldn’t have been too difficult to rip open a few sloppy stitches.”

Victoria flung down her ruined hem, planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes right back at him. “If certain people didn’t find it necessary to keep secrets from me and hide letters in my luggage, and other people refuse to let me help-”

“If you’re referring to your father and me-”

“Of course I’m referring to my father and you. If the two of you weren’t so pigheaded, it wouldn’t have been necessary for me to sew the note into my hem. Where it was perfectly safe, until your goat ate it.”

“So it’s my fault the note is gone?”

Victoria lifted her chin. “Partially, yes. Although I am willing to accept a portion of the blame.”

“How incredibly generous of you.”

Before Victoria could respond to his sarcastic reply, Lord Alwyck broke in. “Will someone please explain what you’re talking about? What note?”

Nathan sent her a warning look, but she ignored him and turned her attention to Lord Alwyck. “My father secreted a note for Dr. Nathan in my luggage. Unfortunately for him, I found it before he could retrieve it. Even more unfortunately for him, his goat just ate the note out of the hem of my skirt where I’d hidden it.”

Lord Alwyck shot Nathan a piercing look. “Why was Wexhall sending you a secret note?” When Nathan’s only reply was an unreadable steady stare, Lord Alwyck said slowly, “The fact that you’ve returned here… a note from Wexhall… this has something to do with the jewels.” The words rang like an accusation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Nathan’s gaze didn’t waver. “If Wexhall had wanted you to know, he’d have told you. Or perhaps I would have told you, depending on what instructions he gave me in the note. But now that the note is gone, I don’t suppose we’ll know. At least until I am able to contact him to tell him what happened.” His gaze swiveled to Victoria. “Which, needless to say, is an extremely inconvenient delay.”

Lord Alwyck turned to Lord Sutton. “Did you know about this, Colin?”

Lord Sutton nodded. “Yes. I’d planned to tell you about it during today’s ride.” He turned to Nathan. “Gordon had every right to know.”

“I never said he didn’t. However, I would have preferred to have all the information from Wexhall’s letter before telling anyone anything.”

“Still good at keeping secrets it would seem,” Lord Alwyck said to Nathan. His voice sounded calm, but it was obvious to Victoria by the frigid look in his eyes that he was very angry. “You had no right to keep me in the dark.”

Nathan hiked a brow. “Why would you care? It wasn’t your reputation that suffered.”

“Perhaps because I was shot during the failure of the mission the last time out. Or had you forgotten?”

A tension-laden silence filled the air. Victoria pressed her lips together to prevent herself from spewing any nervous babble to fill the void. A muscle jerked in Nathan’s jaw, and she noted his hands were clenched.

“No, I hadn’t forgotten,” he said in a flat tone. He turned toward Victoria, and she stilled at the utterly bleak look in his eyes. A curtain then seemed to fall over his expression, leaving complete blankness where only seconds ago shadows and pain and regret had dwelled.

“You read the note, examined it, did you not?” he asked her tersely.

“Yes.”

“Good. You’ll come with me to the house and write down everything you can remember while I compose a letter to your father. Now.” Without waiting for a reply or so much as glancing at his brother or Lord Alwyck, he turned on his heel and strode toward the house.

Lord Alwyck muttered something that contained the words “rude” and “autocratic,” then said aloud, “It appears you need an escort to the house, Lady Victoria. May I have the honors?”

Victoria yanked her gaze from Nathan’s retreating back and noted that Lord Alwyck’s eyes still reflected anger, while Lord Sutton stared after his brother with a troubled expression. “Thank you, but I don’t wish to delay your ride. If you will both excuse me…” She hurried away before either gentleman could stop her.