XVII
"REALLY, HARRY? A doctor?" Percy asked.
Zachary was silent, but he looked just as amused.
"She looked sick," Harry snapped. "Don't you people call for doctors when you're sick?"
"She looked fine. If you weren't so infatuated, it would've been clear that the only thing Miss Redwood suffered from was too much drink."
"I'm not infatuated," Harry muttered. Percy rolled his eyes. Zachary's lips twitched. "I'm not!"
"Of course not," Zachary said smoothly.
"It's okay to like her," Emma cooed. "I think it's very sweet."
"You think everything is sweet, Emma," Harry sniped. He wasn't appreciating all of this speculation with him and Miss Redwood, even though he had been the one to invite it. On second thought, he should've known nothing was wrong with her. Charlotte's drinking games were infamous; they almost always got drunk the first night he arrived. But, he saw her pretty, pale face and red eyes and all sense left him. He could never think straight when it came to her.
"No need to be rude, Harry," Emma admonished. "Like I said, it's alright to like her. She clearly feels a great deal for you too."
Harry turned his head in her direction. "What makes you say that?"
Emma took the teensiest nibble of her pastry and smiled wide. She'd gotten his attention. "Oh, I really shouldn't say."
"Don't tease us, Em," Percy chastised. "You clearly want him to know."
"No, I only wanted to reassure him of his feelings. I won't betray Penelope's confidence. What kind of friend would that make me?"
They weren't friends, Harry thought irritably. Emma hadn't known her longer than twenty four hours. In fact, calling Miss Redwood and Emma acquaintances seemed a touch too intimate. But, of course, they all knew that. She was dangling a chunk of beef in front of a salivating dog, hoping it would take the bait. Harry would be lying if he said the meat wasn't tempting, he wanted to know exactly how much his housekeeper had said about him. However, he refused to bite. "It would make you a terrible one," Harry agreed.
"So you really don't care to know what she said?" Emma prodded.
Harry regarded her through narrowed eyes. "You just want to see if my ears will twitch."
Emma raised an impressed brow. "Will they?"
Harry allowed for a stretch of silence. Percy and Zachary shifted a fraction in their chairs. It also looked like Emma was holding her breath. Goodness. Harry didn't think he'd ever paid so much interest in his friend's love lives. Why were they so interested in his? "Politics. Gossip. Religion."
Emma's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"
"Those were all things we used to talk about before you all became so bloody invested in me and my housekeeper. Do you think we could circle around to those subjects, please?"
Emma groaned. "Oh, Harry."
"Your ear would've twitched if you'd answered the question," Percy said. He gave his wife's hand a squeeze. "That was a clever try though, Em."
"Apparently it wasn't clever enough," Emma said. She winked at Harry. "Don't worry, I won't give up."
Harry shook his head. "I don't think any of you will."
"Well, since you're desperate to talk about gossip, I have something interesting to share." Emma smiled the way women did when they were about to share something scandalous. "Lord Vatterly is divorcing his wife."
"Oh, wow," Zachary offered kindly, after a heartbeat of silence. Even he did not sound impressed.
"We don't even know who Lord Vatterly is, dear," Percy pointed out.
Emma shook his head. "The only reason you men don't know who that is is because you don't pay attention." She gave an especially sour glance to her husband. "And you've met the Vatterleys at least three times."
"Are you sure, dear?"
"Those are the amount of times we've had them over," Emma said.
"Is his first name Christian?" Percy asked.
"Charles."
"I don't remember meeting a Charles Vatterly," Percy said. It was quite possible they met. Percy had the memory of an elephant.
"Anyway, Emma continued (she wasn't going to let their puny male minds ruin her moment), he's divorcing her on grounds of adultery. Apparently, she was carrying on with one of the stableboys."
Well, that was a bit interesting. Harry never heard of adulterous wives as much as he heard of philandering husbands. "Poor Charles," he crowed as if he had the foggiest clue who the fellow was.
Emma rolled her eyes. "You were the one who wanted a subject change. I don't know why I bothered."
Just then, Charlotte and Miss Redwood entered the room. Harry was embarrassed at how happy he was to see her. Her eyes were still a little red, but all in all, she looked a lot better than she had when she first came down. "Why shouldn't you have bothered?" Charlotte asked.
"I was just telling them about Lord Vatterly's divorce. They're being very insensitive," Emma replied.
Miss Redwood's eyes narrowed. "Lord Vatterly is getting a divorce?"
"Do you know him?" Charlotte asked. "He spends almost all his time in the Capitol."
"Is his first name Charles?" his housekeeper asked. Charlotte nodded. "I believe I might have made his acquaintance before, yes."
"In what capacity?" Harry didn't even know he'd asked the question until Miss Redwood's perfect eyes were on him.
"He called on my mother once," she answered.
"What business does a young man have with a countess who lives in the middle of nowhere?" Harry meant for his question to come off cool and indifferent. So why was his voice strained and desperately curious?
"He was one of many men invited to Fleurs to court me when I came out," Miss Redwood replied coolly. She directed her gaze away from Harry and back to Charlotte. "He's a very sweet man."
Charlotte had a look in her eye Harry really didn't like. "He's an absolute sweetheart," Charlotte agreed. She drummed her fingers against the table. "I've always thought of the two of us as friends. I know he needs true people in his corner now more than ever."
"I don't think you've met him more than thrice, Charlotte," Zachary said.
Charlotte ignored him. "Why don't we invite him here, tomorrow? It'll be fun."
"I'm sorry, what would we be inviting him here to do?" Percy asked.
Emma shook her head at him. "Good company, Percy. Food and good wine, too."
The men looked skeptically at each other. Penelope sipped her tea. Harry looked between Emma and Charlotte. What were they plotting?
"Don't you want to hear all the sordid details of Lady Vatterly's affair with the groomsmen?" Emma asked.
"No, not particularly," said Zachary just as Percy said, "Not even a little bit." Harry only gave her a quizzical look.
"Forget you boys. Wouldn't you like to know, Penelope?"
Miss Redwood set down her teacup. "It would definitely be interesting."
Charlotte beamed. "It's decided, then. I'll send him a letter this evening."
Harry really wanted to know why these two women were so invested in this mysterious Lord Vatterly. Of course, he recognized that there was absolutely no point in pressing it. The more interested he seemed the more they would tease. He would just have to wait and find out like Zachary and Percy. Or, maybe he could get them to persuade their wives to tell them what they were planning. Just then, Grace and Teresa entered the room. They were still in their nightgowns. '"Goodmorning," they both chirped. The two girls gave everyone a kiss on the cheek, including "Aunty Penelope". The nanny rushed into the breakfast room several minutes too late.
"I'm so sorry. The two lassies are always getting by me," the young woman said apologetically.
"Oh, don't worry Lucille," Charlotte laughed. "They're always getting by everyone."
Grace looked up at her mother with the gushiest eyes. "Mama, may we go to see Chestnut today?" Chestnut was a gorgeous, Thoroughbred stallion—she was also Grace's favorite horse. His niece had very good taste.
Charlotte made a face. "I don't know, love." Charlotte was injured at a young age horseback riding. She always got squeamish having her daughter around them. "Can't you just run around with Teresa outside?"
Grace's lips began to lower in a pout. "But..but I want to see Chestnut. You said I could when Teresa came."
Charlotte pursed her lips. "Did I say that?"
Zachary coughed. "I think you did, dear." Charlotte looked between her daughter and husband. "We can all go, love. Nothing is going to happen with all of us there."
Charlotte caught her lip between her teeth for a few seconds before releasing it. "Alright, dear. We can go see Chestnut."
Speaking of Chestnut... "You wouldn't mind letting me ride Nightmare, would you?" Harry asked Zachary.
Zachary smiled in a way that told him he'd almost forgotten he'd promised his prize mare. "A promise is a promise."
"What promise?" Charlotte asked.
"Zachary is giving me Nightmare," Harry said proudly.
Charlotte's eyebrows shot up. "Why?"
"He gave me something in return," Zachary answered evasively. He felt Penelope's curious gaze linger on them. Zachary took his daughter into his arms. "Would you like to go see Chestnut now, sweetheart?"
"Yes!" Grace exclaimed, as she giggled into her father's shirt.
The party quickly finished their breakfast and made their way to the stables. Harry didn't waste time going to the stall that Nightmare occupied. The mare had a silvery white shining coat with a mane and tail to match. Of course, it wasn't really the beauty that drew him to her. Nightmare ran like a storm. "What's so special about this horse?"
Harry turned around to see Miss Redwood peering over his shoulder. "She runs like a hellion."
"Is she more hellish than Cerberus?"
Harry was impressed she still remembered his horse's name. "No, not nearly. But, she's hellish enough. She's a mare after all."
"Are you implying that women are slower than men?"
"It's a biological fact, Miss Redwood."
His housekeeper gave both he and Nightmare a onceover. "Would you like to prove it?"
"How?"
"We race. I ride Nightmare and you ride whatever biologically enhanced stallion you choose."
This already wasn't fair. "I already told you Nightmare rides like a storm."
Miss Redwood smirked. "Are you a bad horseman or something?"
Was she flirting or was this purely a challenge? "I'm ten times the horseman you are." He returned a coy smile. "Let's race."
Harry nodded to the stableboys to ready Nightmare and another stallion. The both of them walked back over to the party, where Grace and Teresa were cooing over Chestnut. "Miss Redwood and I are going to race."
"A race?" Grace squealed.
"Yes, darling. Are you going to wish your dear uncle good luck?"
She smacked a kiss on his forehead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miss Redwood smile. Years ago, before any of them had been wed, Percy had said the quickest way to a woman's heart was if you were good with children. Harry wondered if that would be true for her. Harry kissed Grace's hand. "Thank you, doll."
Teresa did not want to be left out of the fun. "Aunty Penelope," she said, beckoning his housekeeper with a chubby hand.
"Yes, darling?"
She stuck out her hand for a kiss like a princess. "Good luck."
Miss Redwood gave Teresa a gorgeous smile. It made Harry a bit dizzy. Maybe Percy's advice applied the other way round, too. "Thank you, Teresa." She gave Harry a quick glance. "I won't let you down."
The race was fairly straightforward: eight hundred meters away from the stables at the appointed tree. The first person to reach it won. When Miss Redwood refused to ride side-saddle, Harry knew it was going to be a true competition. Charlotte counted them off and when she waved for them to go, there wasn't a moment to lose. Harry led in the first hundred meters, but he could feel Penelope at his heels. Harry squeezed his reins and muttered fervent coaxes into his horse's ear. He really wanted to win. She overcame him halfway through the race, but Harry recovered quickly, so that for the next four hundred meters, they were neck and neck. It was only when the finish line was within throwing distance that Nightmare threw in all her might like the mighty beast she was. Miss Redwood finished a good thirty seconds before Harry did. She made a big show of dismounting before him.
"It appears that women are the biologically superior gender," she said.
"That cannot be concluded from one race," Harry said. "And I told you that Nightmare was a special beast."
"You're beginning to sound like a sore loser."
She was right, and Harry hated being dishonorable. He gave a little bow. "Congratulations, Miss Redwood. You deserve it."
His housekeeper pursed her lips, but her eyes were light with laughter. "I don't need your sarcasm, my lord."
He was not being sarcastic. Well, the bow may have been a little sarcastic but the salutation was genuine. Sort of. He opened his mouth to refute her, when his eyes caught something askew. Nightmare's hoof was planted firmly on a piece of her gown. "Your dress," he said, pointing to the ground.
Miss Redwood followed his hand and gave a little gasp. She gave Nightmare a light tap and tugged at her dress a little, but the horse wouldn't budge. She gave a click of the tongue and another tug, and still, nothing. The third time her efforts were successful, but Nightmare's release was a bit abrupt. It knocked Miss Redwood off balance and she would've fallen if Lord Hawthorne hadn't scooped her waist into his hands and pulled her upwards. She gazed up at him. "Thank you," she whispered. Harry hardly heard her. She was in his arms now, and he couldn't help but notice how perfectly she fit. A dangerous frisson of want swelled in the pit of his belly. The small bit of space that separated them was unmistakably charged. Penelope's gaze lowered to his lips, and that feathery warmth in his belly trickled lower. Did she want him to kiss her? Just then the sound of a wail pierced through the air, cutting through their magic moment, and bringing them back to Earth. They both looked in the direction of the cry. It was hard to discern exactly what was happening with his friends eight hundred meters away, but it was clear one of the girls was crying. They gently broke apart.