Almost a Countess by Jenna Jaxon
Chapter 15
Excitement made Dora’s steps unusually light on the staircase next morning as she came down to breakfast. Violet had promised her time alone with Finn, a chance to see if their attraction might be mutual. It wouldn’t be easy to steal time to allow their acquaintance to ripen, but Dora had faith in her friend. If anyone could get Tris out of the way, it was his wife.
The breakfast room was empty, even though it was already ten o’clock, the usual time the meal was served. With so many guests this morning, Dora had instructed Mrs. McComber to serve it in warming pans from the sideboard so everyone could help themselves. She took a plate and began to fill it. She didn’t wish to eat overmuch if there was to be a picnic that afternoon, but the dishes smelled heavenly, and her mouth watered. By the time she returned to her seat at the long walnut table, her plate was piled high. She’d never eat all of this, but she’d make a start, at least. “James, I shall require a large pot of tea, please.”
Dora had actually finished most of her breakfast when Violet entered, looking well rested and very…satisfied.
“Good morning, my dear. How are you?” Violet kissed Dora on the cheek then headed straight to the sideboard and took up a plate. “You will be happy to know that Tristan will be riding back to Yewtree Hall shortly. I have sent him on an errand there and while he is at home, I reminded him there are several letters to which he needs to reply. These two tasks should keep him busy for most of the afternoon, quite long enough for you and Lord Aberfoyle to enjoy your picnic.”
Dora beamed at her from across the table. “You are the most wonderful friend to me, Violet.” Unable to resist, she rose, scurried around the table, and threw her arms around her friend.
“You are more than welcome, although it was nothing any good wife would not do for her husband.” Violet’s eyes twinkled.
Dora’s cheeks blazed. Chances were slim that Violet was speaking of merely reminding her husband of his correspondence. Had her friend indulged in marital congress in order to persuade Tris to absent himself from Bromley for the day? Whatever she had done, Dora was more than grateful.
With a sigh, she returned to her breakfast, although her mind kept drifting back to thoughts of Finn. How she’d love to try some of those wiles on him if they were married. Her whole face flamed as though she’d been riding in the sun without a hat. Still, that was the goal. To find a gentleman she could love and who she was compatible with and hope he was equally in love with her. A tall order, but perhaps her luck in love had changed.
“Good morning, ladies.”
Dora looked up and into Finn’s intense blue eyes, and her mouth dried.
“Good morning, my lord.” Violet nodded cheerfully as she buttered a slice of toast. “How is your injury? I hope it did not cause you any discomfort during the night.”
“Thank ye, Lady Trevor. I think I slept excellently, but I dinna remember a thing, sae I suppose all was well.” He grinned at her. “Good morning, Miss Harper. Ye’re looking bonny this morning.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Dora had to force the words out. Would she be tongue tied with Finn all during the picnic? What a time to revert to her old, shy ways. “I see you are dressed to ride.”
He’d borrowed more of Simon’s clothing, which included a brown close-fitting jacket, a dark burgundy waistcoat, and brown buckskin breeches that fit him amazingly well. They must have been older clothing, from years before, if they fit Finn. He looked magnificent.
“I am, Miss Harper. I thought it would be best if I try tae ride today, in the event I need tae leave precipitously.” He cast a glance over her still-full plate. “May I bring ye something?”
Dora looked at her plate, heaped high with eggs, ham, sausages, kippers, and toast. “I thank you, my lord, but you would be hard-pressed to find anything I have not already tried.”
Chuckling, Finn continued to the sideboard. “Well, if ye think of anything, I will do my best tae fetch it for ye.”
Dora bit her lip and shot a glance at Violet, who stared sternly at her and mouthed the words, “Ask him.”
“My lord,” Dora forced herself to speak, “I was wondering if you would like some company on your ride? I thought, since the day is fair, we might take a picnic lunch with us and enjoy a little respite from all our concerns.”
Turning to her from the sideboard—where his plate had begun to overshadow hers—he grinned brilliantly. “Noo that’s a braw idea, Dora. We’ve had much tae deal with these last days sae I’ll gladly take yer company. Do ye have a particular destination in mind?”
“I believe we need to stay in the inner parts of the estate as we do not know for certain the soldiers have indeed moved on.” Dora sipped her tea, scarcely registering it was cold.
“Agreed. Lady Trevor, will ye and Lord Trevor accompany us? A party is always welcome.”
A gallant statement given Tris’s animosity toward Finn.
“I am afraid my husband must attend to business on his estate. He rode over earlier this morning. I do not expect him before dinner.” Violet managed to affect a sad look. “And I do not feel up to riding these days. In fact, Lord Trevor is on the brink of telling me I should not do so. A friend of ours suffered a miscarriage after a horse bolted with her.” She shuddered. “I will not tempt fate when Tris’s heir is at stake.” She smiled and nodded to Dora. “I trust you will be in very capable hands nonetheless, my lord.”
Finn looked from Violet to Dora and grinned. “I dae as well, Lady Trevor.” His gaze strayed back to Dora where it rested long enough to make her heart beat like thunder in her chest. “I certainly dae.”
****
Sitting atop Hannibal once more, Finn surveyed his surroundings as he waited for Dora to join him. After breakfast, she’d excused herself to change into her riding habit and he’d gone ahead and mounted to see if he would indeed be able to ride today. Bandaged inside his boot, the offending ankle seemed a little painful but bearable. He’d know for certain as soon as they began to ride.
He eyed the long driveway then gazed at the expansive front lawn, appreciating the symmetry of its gardens, filled with red, gold, and purple blooms. A damn fine property from what he’d seen. Perfectly landscaped rather than the wilderness of lands around his home, Daingneach Mòr. Could someone who’d grown up in these cultured surroundings be equally happy in a vastly different setting?
The front door opened, and Dora emerged, now attired in the same trim riding habit of brown edged in gold she’d worn yesterday with the addition today of a little black velvet jockey cap that looked utterly sweet perched on her golden curls. She looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. “How is your ankle today?”
“We are about tae find out.” He tried putting a little pressure on the limb and was rewarded with a twinge of pain. Still, it might be all right once they actually began to ride.
“Well, just so you know, I have my smelling salts at the ready.” She patted the pocket of her habit before Alfred tossed her up onto Gretchen.
“Is that meant tae keep me from fainting? Because it will.” Finn adjusted his reins, hoping he spoke the truth.
“I hadn’t considered it.” She smiled as she settled herself in the sidesaddle. “But if that can be your motivation to remain conscious, rest assured I will use them if necessary.”
“Ruthless as well as ravishing.”
Her cheeks pinkened as she expertly gathered the reins in her gloved hands. “Shall we begin slowly with a trot, or do you think a canter would be easier on you?”
“I ken even a walk will irritate it at first.” He shrugged. “Let’s start slow and see what I can stand.”
Nodding, Dora urged Gretchen to a walk then almost immediately into a trot.
Finn took just a moment to admire the lovely figure she cut, sitting the horse as though they were one. What did the Greeks call them? Centaurs? If there were females of the species, Dora would be one. He tapped Hannibal’s flank, and the willing horse shot away in pursuit of the mare.
The day was beginning well, with untold possibilities. He hoped some of the best ones would be realized.
They circled toward the back of the manor house then struck off across a series of fields that wound them deeper into the estate. Finn’s ankle had made loud protestations at first, but once they settled into a canter, the pain eased. The exercise would do it good. Every so often, Dora would stop to point out some bit of interesting history regarding the land or its environs. She seemed to know everything about her father’s property, although he’d gotten the sense she’d not been in residence here often or for very long until this summer. Perhaps she’d learned most things since she’d arrived. If so, she was as intelligent as she was beautiful.
He gazed at her—they had stopped for her to point out the oldest and largest oak on the estate—drinking in every word spoken in her lovely voice. He’d savor this day they had stolen together for a long time to come.
“Come on, Finn. We’re almost there.” She tapped Gretchen, and they broke into a canter again across a perfect green pasture, heading for a little rise.
He hurried after her, wondering where “there” was. Was she taking him to a special place?
She stopped at the crest of the small rise, and when he joined her, found she gazed down the gentle slope at the prettiest sight he’d seen on the property. A medium-sized lake lay spread out before them, the water dark with catkins growing around the sides. At the far edge was a stand of trees, and at the nearest point, a beautiful marble folly overlooked the lake.
“This is my favorite spot at Bromley,” Dora told him, smiling broadly. “Perhaps my favorite in the whole world. I discovered it a week after I arrived, and I’ve ridden here at least once or twice a week since. It’s so peaceful and calm. And beautiful.”
“It is, indeed. I dinna blame ye for wanting tae come here. Thank ye for sharing it with me.” Even without her words, he’d have known she loved this spot.
She darted a glance at him then started Gretchen down the slope. They headed for the folly and when they arrived, she hopped down and quickly began to set up their picnic.
After carefully dismounting, Finn joined her, untying the basket from behind her saddle and bringing it to her under the marble gazebo. The folly boasted stone benches and a table, and Dora made quick work of setting out their repast.
At last, they sat down to the picnic lunch, a culinary triumph for Mrs. McComber, with cold spiced chicken and glazed ham, bread and cheese, pork pies, vegetables in aspic, fairy cakes, chocolate biscuits, and a bottle of wine. A feast proverbially fit for a king.
“Allow me tae serve ye.” Finn took Dora’s plate and filled it with a bit of everything, until it rivaled his plate at breakfast. “Here ye are.” He laid it before her then began on his own. “We’ll be well and truly fed if we can manage tae eat a quarter o’ this.”
Some time later, as they sat companionably silent, too full to speak, Finn sighed. The day had turned out to be wonderful beyond anything he’d ever expected. His ankle was mending, now strong enough for him to ride out. The picnic had been charming, in a bucolic setting to rival anything in Shakespeare. And the companionship, beyond perfect. They had spoken of his home at Daingneach Mòr, of his childhood there and hers in Wiltshire. Neither had been ideal, but both had some fond memories.
“I wish I could take ye tae Aberfoyle.” He sipped his wine and leaned back on the stone bench. “Ye could see for yerself the wild beauty o’ the land. Meadow after meadow o’ heather sae it looks like a carpet o’ lavender. Nearby is the River Forth, as clear and cold as yer wee loch but stretching farther than the eye can see. Wild waterfalls throughout the land and,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “there is Doon Hill rising up like a specter out o’ the very earth itself.” He raised his hands high. “’Tis where the faerie folk live, and if ye’re not careful, they take ye off tae live under the hill with them.”
Dora shivered then laughed. “I can almost see it, Finn. It sounds wild and wonderful.”
“Very different from here, yet still charming.”
“The way you describe it, I must like it. Such a wild and exciting place.” Dora drained the last drops from her glass. “I would love to go there one day.”
If only he didn’t have to travel to London instead. “Once my affairs are put in order, I’d like tae come back here. Call upon ye formally.” He gazed into her eyes, blue as the lochs near his home, and leaned toward her. “If ye would allow me tae.”
Her breath came in little gasps, but she leaned toward him as well. “I would be more than happy to enjoy your company again.”
She was so close he could smell the sweet scent of roses that enveloped her, and he could resist no longer. He continued forward, compelled as though an invisible hand urged him, until his lips met hers, and the sweetness he found there undid him completely.