An Unlikely Debutante. Laura Martin
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purely for pleasure.
‘And the horse I saw yesterday?’
‘My latest project,’ Alex said. ‘An Arabian that had been giving its previous owners all sorts of problems. They haven’t been able to harness or ride him, so I took him off their hands for a very reasonable price.’
‘Will you race him?’
Alex shrugged. He hadn’t planned to initially. A large majority of the winning horses in the big races were thoroughbreds, but Arabians certainly took some of the titles. His initial plan had been to keep the new stallion for breeding, so good were his bloodlines, but after seeing his strength and spirit Alex thought he might well have a winning racehorse on his hands.
‘Can I race him?’
Laughing, Alex shook his head. ‘Most certainly not.’
‘You’d let me if I were a man,’ Lina grumbled.
‘I have no idea how good you are with horses or if you can even ride.’
‘I can ride. Give me ten minutes with your Arabian and I will have him eating from my hand and racing like a winner.’
‘Slow down.’ Alex laughed, although he had to admire her enthusiasm. ‘I’ll make you a deal. You show me you can care for a horse, and if you impress me, I’ll let you ride.’
‘The Arabian?’ Lina asked, her eyes shining.
‘Not the Arabian,’ he said firmly.
They entered the stables and Alex led her down to the very end where a gentle-natured horse was munching on a mouthful of hay.
‘This is Stormborn,’ he said, raising a hand to stroke the old thoroughbred’s nose. ‘My very first racehorse. He’s retired now, but still a joy to ride.’
He watched as Lina approached the horse slowly, lifting her fingers to rub his nose and murmuring reassuring sounds. Maybe she was good with horses, but Alex couldn’t risk letting her loose on any of his prize-winning racehorses.
‘Clean out his stall, rub him down, tend to the saddle and harness, and then I might let you ride him.’ He was certain Lina would argue; she argued about everything.
Watching in amazement as she hitched up her skirts, revealing two slender legs without any hint of embarrassment and vaulting over the stable door, Alex wondered what sort of deal he had just made. Still, Stormborn would keep Lina busy for a while and give him a chance to work with his new Arabian for an hour or two.
With a backwards glance Alex moved away to the other end of the stables, listening with half a smile as Lina introduced herself to the horse much more politely than he had ever heard her speak to another human.
* * *
Lina was in heaven. Rubbing down the old thoroughbred’s shiny coat might not appeal to many young women, but Lina could not think of anywhere she would rather be. She knew Alex had set her working in a bid to both stop her from asking to ride his precious horses, thinking she would not stick out the unglamorous work, and also to give him some time to work on his Arabian.
How he had underestimated her. She would be content to clean out the stables all day. In fact, she’d go as far as to say she preferred it to practising how to address people in Alex’s comfortable library.
It wasn’t that she was unimpressed with his house—she doubted there was a grander, more beautifully decorated dwelling in all of England, and certainly not one she’d ever be invited into. And Alex had been an exemplary host; he’d been kind and welcoming, even if his question as to whether she could read had stung her more than she cared to admit. No, her unease came from somewhere deep inside. Lina liked to think of herself as adventurous. The whole point of this escapade was to have a more exciting life. Well, that and to pay off the huge debt she owed Uncle Tom. But now she was here, she felt the first stirrings of inadequacy and she hated it.
All her life she had ranted against the aristocracy and the way they looked down on the ordinary people. She’d gone out of her way to avoid even the lower levels of the gentry, staying away from the country dances she dreamed about attending. Now she was here at Whitemore House and Alex and his sister were treating her with such kindness, Lina had to wonder if the problem was partly to do with her.
‘What do you think, Stormborn?’ Lina asked. ‘Am I the problem?’
The horse nuzzled into her hand, rubbing his head against her shoulder in a consoling manner.
‘How are you doing?’ Alex’s voice came suddenly from the other end of the stable. He’d left her for well over two hours, probably expecting her to give up at some point.
Lina didn’t reply, forcing him to walk the length of the stables to Stormborn’s stall. She saw the surprise on his face to still find her there, especially with his favourite horse nuzzling against her shoulder.
‘It looks like Stormborn likes you.’
‘We’ve had plenty of time to get to know one another.’
‘Sorry, I lost track of time,’ Alex said without a hint of remorse. ‘I’m sure you’re keen to return to the house for lunch.’
Lina had already opened her mouth to protest when she noticed the mischievous glint in Alex’s eyes. He was teasing her. Normally she was so good at reading people, but Alex she found a little harder than most. She’d been able to pick up the basics when they’d first met at the fair, but since she’d arrived at Whitemore House he hadn’t given much personal information away.
‘Shall we ride?’ he asked, grinning at her before tossing her the heavy saddle to strap on to Stormborn’s back. Lina staggered under the weight, wondering if he treated his aristocratic lady friends in such a manner. It was all very well him training her to curtsy and flutter her fan like a lady, but if he treated her like a common gypsy girl, no one would ever accept her as anything else. She nearly said something, but decided he might agree with her and put a stop to their ride in favour of another session with Debrett’s.
Lina craned her neck, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
‘Just be patient,’ Georgina chastised her. ‘The overall effect will be more impressive if you wait until Mary has finished with your hair.’
The wait was agonising. The maid—Mary, a shy, perpetually blushing girl who was skilled at putting together the intricate hairstyles Georgina favoured day to day—was pulling and clipping sections of Lina’s hair with quick, practised movements of her fingers. Lina hardly ever wore her hair up. It was too unruly, too wild to be tamed easily, so she favoured letting the loose curls cascade over her shoulders and down her back. Today, though, Georgina had insisted.
Ten minutes later and Mary declared her work to be done.
Nervously Lina stepped in front of the full-length mirror and let her eyes travel up her body. The shoes and dress were borrowed, quickly altered by one of Georgina’s army of maids, but they were the most magnificent garments Lina had ever worn. The dress was a deep crimson in colour, cut low but not scandalously so, nipped in at the waist to show off Lina’s figure, and with her hair pulled back into an intricate bun, she looked as though she might belong on the arm of a marquess.
‘I can’t believe this is me,’ Lina whispered.
‘You look beautiful.’
‘Thank you, Georgina,’ she said, turning to the other woman as her voice caught in her throat.
‘Now, don’t you start,’ Georgina admonished her, the tears swelling in her own eyes, ‘or you’ll have me weeping, and my face goes all blotchy and swollen when I cry.’
‘I feel so different.’
‘Let’s join the others and show them