Chapter Four

Sweat trickled down his back and Thorne paused to swipe the damp from his forehead on the back of a shirt sleeve. Damned weather couldn’t make up its mind. First showers, now glorious sunshine. He’d rather the rain. At least it would keep him cool as he toiled.

He paused, propping the rake on the ground and resting against the handle to admire his work. It would be worth it once he could stable some horses here. The stables had been left in a terrible condition by his father and the lack of staff. They needed cleaning, repairing, and a good repaint. He’d already taken on two new stable hands, but he was keen to get started and three bodies could do more than two. The two other men were working on cleaning the far end of the building at present. Once this was done, he’d patch the roof himself. It would save the estate a few pennies, and God knows, he needed to save pennies wherever he could since paying the estate taxes and his father’s debts.

Thorne pressed a hand to the knot in the back of his neck and rolled his head. There was something to be said for the satisfaction that came with manual labor but he didn’t much appreciate the aches and pains that came with it.

Eyeing the pile of old, sodden hay and various farming machinery that had been abandoned in the empty stables, he set back to work with extra determination. His own horses were stabled in a smaller building nearer the house that had been made hospitable for them. There was no chance he was putting such fine beasts in a place like this but the sooner he had it made ready for them, the better. Then he could get to work with the breeding program he intended to put in place. Before long the estate would be known for the best horses in all the country.

He swept the hay into a pile and loaded it onto a wheelbarrow to wheel outside. Harsh sunshine made him blink as he stepped outside, his muscles pulling from the weight of the barrow. He tipped it over and emptied it onto the great pile he’d already created.

“Oh!”

He paused. The sun beating down made her hair redder than ever. Her eyes squinted at him and she had a hand to her chest. Her lips were parted in surprise and he saw her throat work.

“Miss Chadwick,” he said, aware the word came out a dry drawl.

“It is you,” she exclaimed.

“In the flesh.”

Her gaze lingered on said flesh and he grew aware of his unkempt state. His shirt collar was open and his sleeves were rolled up. No doubt his appearance was shocking indeed with sweat sticking the fabric to his skin and grime covering his skin and clothing.

“Whatever are you doing?”

He motioned to the pile of straw and dirt. “Cleaning.”

She glanced around him into the building. “Surely you have men for that?”

Clearly the woman thought him some useless rich gentleman who had no time for anything other than drinking and gambling. Much like his father. The idea grated at his insides. He was nothing like his father. He never had been and never would be. For the most part, he did not care what others thought—it had always been his mother and sisters who had suffered most from the gossip—but for some unknown reason, it bothered him what she thought.

“I do.”

She opened her mouth and shut it. In a pale gown trimmed with a little gold embroidery at the sleeves, hem, and bust line, she was every inch the delicate young miss. Her unusually slight build combined with the freckles and coils of red hair gave her an innocent air. Were it not for their two meetings so far, he would be inclined to imagine she was a sweet young lady—much like the many, many young women he had come to meet while escorting his sisters about. Every one of them had been the same. Giggly, gossipy, and silly.

What Miss Chadwick was, however, he was not sure.

“I almost did not recognize you,” she said, finally.

“Like you did not recognize me the other night?”

“It was the middle of the night!”

“And you were on my land,” he countered.

“I hardly expected to be accosted.”

“Nor I. And I still have the bruises to prove it.”

She glanced at his leg as though she could see the damage her toes had caused. In truth, there were no bruises. The swift kick from her had taken him by surprise but the damage had faded quickly.

Her chin lifted. “If you grab a woman, I am not sure what else you can expect. Especially when it is dark.”

“What were you doing on my land anyway?”

“I was looking at the stars.”

“The stars?”

“Yes.” Miss Chadwick motioned to the sky. “The stars. You might have seen them. They’re small and white. They twinkle. They only come out at night, though, when everyone is fast asleep.”

Her patronizing tone made his lips quirk. “Forgive my ignorance. I would not have thought a woman like you would be interested in such things.”

“A woman like me?”

“Yes, one like you.” He motioned to her. “Or any woman for that matter.”

She blinked at him. “Your experience of women must be limited indeed.”

“On the contrary. My sister has exposed me to a great many. I can safely say none of them were interested in stars.”

There was something about the subtle shift in her body, the way her shoulders pushed back and her fingers furled. He had her on the defensive and it amused him somewhat. From what he had seen of her yesterday, he doubted many people could aggravate her. He could, it seemed.

“I think, my lord, that you will be surprised by the ladies in Hampshire.”

“They are all interested in stars?”

“No.” She made a sound of frustration. “What I mean to say is they have many varied interests.”

“Well so long as they do not start trespassing on my land and kicking me in the shins, I do not much care what their interests are.”

“So long as you do not grab them, they will not kick you.” Her lips moved into a sassy little pout that made his own lips quirk.

“You do not deny trespassing then?”

“I was doing no harm.”

He gave a low chuckle. “Tell that to my shins.”

Her gaze narrowed. “I have been going to the folly for years. No one minded before.”

“I very much doubt anyone noticed.”

“What were you doing out there anyway?”

“You question what I, the landowner, was doing on his own land? You were damned lucky it was me who came across you and not some poacher or highwayman.”

“Highwayman?” She laughed. “There are no highwaymen here. Besides,” she folded her arms, “I can defend myself.”

“Oh yes, my shins would agree with you.” One of the stable hands emerged outside and Thorne glanced at him. “What is your reason for trespassing today, Miss Chadwick?”

“I came to see your sister actually. My mother thought she might welcome a friend.”

“I am sure she would. She has already been complaining of being bored. Lilith is likely at the house if you would like to announce your presence.”

“Well, I shall leave you to your, um, cleaning.” She gave a hasty dip that he suspected she begrudged giving and hastened away. He watched her until she vanished out of sight, unable to keep the slight smile from his lips. She was trouble, surely? How could she not be with such impertinence? He would have to keep an eye on her and his sister if Miss Chadwick was to be a bad influence. 

He thought no more of her—really he did not—as he toiled for another few hours. Girlish giggles drew him out of the stables and back into the sunlight. Lilith and Miss Chadwick had set down a blanket not far from the stable block.

Lilith motioned him over. “We brought lemonade and a pork pie.”

He glanced at his grimy hands. He was hardly in the right condition to picnic with young ladies, but had he not already decided he cared little what Miss Chadwick thought? And Lilith would not mind.

Snatching up a cloth, he dipped his hands in the rainwater that had gathered in the trough outside and wiped them down as best as he could. Lilith poured a glass of lemonade and offered it him, patting at the blanket beside her.

“You have been out here for hours. Sit down,” she insisted.

He hesitated, stealing a look at Miss Chadwick. She avoided his gaze pointedly. This picnic had to have been his sister’s idea as there was no chance Miss Chadwick would want to increase their time together. It was clear she liked him no more than he liked her.

Which did not bother him one bit. Why he was so offensive, he wasn’t sure, but he had no time to worry about what young, silly ladies thought of him.

“He has been cleaning those stables for two days,” Lilith said. “He is so stubborn.”

Thorne frowned. Was his sister planning to divulge every aspect of his life to Miss Chadwick?

“The work needs to be done quickly, so I must do it,” he said tightly.

“He breeds horses,” Lilith said proudly.

“But of course he does. Men love nothing more than to play God with horses.” Miss Chadwick’s smile was guileless, but he saw the sting behind her eyes.

“He’s known for breeding some of the finest racehorses in the country,” his sister continued, unaware of the silent exchange happening between them.

Thorne took a long drink of lemonade, gulping it down unceremoniously and swiping his mouth on the back of his arm. Miss Chadwick’s eyes widened a little and he was not ignorant of her perusal of him. He took a slice of pork pie, jammed it into his mouth and chewed it hastily. She was not the only one who could put on a show. Miss Chadwick thought herself special because she had few manners and a bold tongue. Well, let her know that anyone could be uncouth, even a marquis.

“Thank you for the drink, Lil. I have better get back to work.”

Lilith rolled her eyes. “You make a terrible marquis. No manners at all.”

Not unlike a certain lady in their company. He glanced her way and caught her narrowing her gaze at him. He had her a little riled. Good. The last thing he wanted was Miss Chadwick feeling she had some sort of superiority over him.