Chapter 7
What the devil was he doing?
Sebastian had bounded off the path with the speed and determination of a stag. He moved with precision over the rough terrain, his dark coat flicking about his long legs.
Goodness, he was a sight to set the heart and other places stirring.
“Do we follow?” Marabelle asked Olivia.
“I certainly won’t be left behind.”
A rueful smile twitched at Marabelle’s lips. “A horrible fate, indeed.”
The servants were staring after the new earl as if he’d gone as mad as a cuckoo.
“Come,” she said brightly to the young men. “We will need a saw when we find the proper log.”
The servants nodded, their lips curving with barely-concealed amusement.
Clearly, they’d never seen a lord behave in such an unordered fashion.
She quite liked it herself.
Pathways were well and good but they did rather limit what one encountered.
So, it was with enthusiasm that she set off after her new husband and the Duke of Huntsdown.
Laughing, she linked arms with Olivia. They leapt over low fallen trees, rocks, and brambles.
They swished their skirts from clinging foliage and drank in the sounds of winter birds cawing in the crisp air.
Just ahead, Sebastian and the duke were stopped in what appeared to be terribly serious discourse.
Sebastian pointed to an old oak.
The duke nodded.
Their serious discourse deepened.
Olivia whispered, “Do you think they have found the one?”
“No doubt,” Olivia said with great drama, her mirth rife in her voice. “There shall be a great deal of discussion as to the merits of said oak.”
They grinned at each other.
Men were such silly sorts. But she was terribly pleased to see Sebastian so interested in their project.
At last, he looked up. His dark eyes met hers. Those eyes were full of what she could only call hope.
Without question, then, she knew he was doing this to please her.
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked rapidly to hide them.
“What do you think, Marabelle?” He gestured to the towering oak which had seen at least one hundred summers. “This one? We won’t cut the tree, just one of those branches. That will allow the tree to continue growing for generations.”
Generations. It was such a strange word from the man who seemed to care nothing for his heritage.
She looked up to an ancient tree limb. Its gnarled surface was a badge of honor, showing its triumph over so many obstacles.
“It is perfect,” she praised.
For the briefest instant, she could have sworn she saw relief flash across his face. But then it was gone as quickly as it came.
The servants, unbidden, came forward with the saw.
To her astonishment, Sebastian divested himself of his great coat. . . And then he peeled off his emerald frock coat.
“Whatever are you doing?” Huntsdown asked.
She couldn’t have put the question better. Though, in truth, she was marveling at the sight of her husband so casually attired in shirtsleeves, silver waistcoat, and creme cravat.
“I’m going to cut the limb, of course,” Sebastian replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“The servants—” Huntsdown began.
“Shall assist,” cut in Sebastian. “There’s no question that I will need them.”
Assist? Oh dear. He wasn’t going to do something terribly foolish was he? Men did often do so when attempting to make an impression. She longed to tell him she already felt confident in his masculine abilities.
She stepped forward, ready to speak sense.
A sudden tug on her hand pulled her back. She glanced down to Olivia just as Sebastian entered into conversation with the two young men bearing rope, other tools that she couldn’t name, and the saw.
“Do not intervene,” Olivia said sotto voce.
“Why ever not?” she protested. “He might break his neck.”
And just as she whispered this, Sebastian grabbed hold of the tree’s trunk and scaled up into the limbs with the ease of a wildcat.
“Men are silly yet wonderful creatures,” Olivia replied lightly. “He will not be pleased by your lack of confidence in his prowess.”
Marabelle felt her heart leap up into her mouth at the sight of him in such a precarious position. “But what if he breaks his leg?”
Olivia batted her lashes. “Then you will nurse him back to health and he will love every moment of that.”
“So, you suggest I allow him to act like a madman?”
Without even a hint of jest, Olivia said, “Yes. Or you shall have a great, wounded bear rambling about, dismayed that you think so little of him.”
Marabelle drew herself up, determined not to be ruled by her concern. “I clearly have much to learn of marriage.”
“Indeed.” Olivia pulled her closer so that they might stand side by side to watch the carryings on. “My mother long ago told me, no matter how capable you are, a man desperately wants to be needed. Let him feel needed.”
So, much to her astonishment, she faced Sebastian. There he was, dangling from the tree, gamboling about it with remarkable ease and she forced herself to smile.
It mattered not that her stomach was churning with apprehension that he might plummet to the earth.
Tom, the youngest of the two servants, tied a rope about the saw, then threw the end of the rope over the large branch and pulled.
To her amazement, Sebastian did, indeed, seem to know what he was doing.
And much to her relief, he took the rope and tied himself off, as well. He was ensuring that if he did slip, he wouldn’t crash to the rock hard winter ground.
Clearly, he did know what he was about.
He took the saw in hand. Quickly, he began working it back and forth with seemingly great ease over the massive branch. Marabelle’s mouth opened in appreciation.
Oh, it did appear easy for him. But that didn’t stop the way in which his muscles worked beneath his clothes.
Good lord, he was strong and had great balance.
Sebastian perched near the tree trunk and worked away as if he’d been born to do this. How on earth he knew what to do, she couldn’t fathom. But within a few moments, he called, “Stand away!”
And the Duke of Huntsdown crossed towards them, gesturing with his gloved hands for them to retreat.
The two servants stayed closer, agape.
But then a great crack filled the air and the tree limb crashed to the earth.
Laughter and applause exploded from the young men. Despite her earlier doubts, a wave of exhilaration shot through Marabelle.
“Bravo!” she called, joining in the applause.
Sebastian swung his gaze to her and gave her a surprising, cheeky salute. As he scrambled down the tree as easily as he’d gone up it, she picked her way over to the fallen limb and her husband.
“Astonishing,” she said simply. “And absolutely wonderful.”
“It will burn all night,” he said.
“It’s perfect,” she enthused, wishing to heap him with praise. “But what about—”
“The young men will trim it,” he informed. “I’d hate to take away all the work.”
Tom and Andrew, who had already gone to work on the extraneous limbs, laughed again.
The Duke of Huntsdown scowled, “Well, Gray, you’ve managed to make me look exceptionally ineffectual. I suppose I shall have to assist in dragging the log back.”
Sebastian laughed; a deep, delicious sound. “Your Grace, you’ve always been excellent at organizing things. That is your specialty. And one which very few are actually effective at.”
Huntsdown smiled, clearly not offended at all. “Even so, one mustn’t appear less than manly in front of the wife.”
At that, Olivia went up on tiptoe, pulled her husband down, and whispered in his ear.
The duke’s face transformed. Immediately, he looked like a beast who desperately wanted to devour his wife.
Huntsdown cleared his throat. “It seems my wife is feeling a trifle faint. I shall escort her back to the house, if you feel all is well here, Gray.”
“One must always take care of the ladies,” Gray quipped.
“Indeed,” the duke agreed, sweeping his wife up into his arms.
Olivia cast a hand dramatically over her brow but couldn’t quite suppress a giggle.
The duke then headed with remarkable speed away from them . . . But surprisingly, not necessarily in the direction of the house.
“Whatever are they doing?” Marabelle asked, staring after the couple.
Sebastian coughed. “I do think she may have pointed out that he can prove his manliness to her in other ways than the fetching of a Yule log.”
She nodded. “Oh. Oh!”
Her cheeks flushed as she realized the implication of Sebastian’s comment.
“But it is so very cold out,” she protested.
Sebastian’s grinned, a wolf’s grin. “I do think they shall find a way to stay warm.’
“How fascinating,” she said, for lack of knowing what else to say.
His brows shot up. “Is it?”
“I know so little, really,” she confessed softly.
“You’ll have all the knowledge you need, soon enough.”
She looked up at him through her lashes, feeling a heady dose of daring. “Do you promise?” she asked.