On a Wild Duke Chase: The Wayward Woodvilles Book 2 Read online

She scoffed and covered her mouth when she realized she had reacted out loud. He threw back his head and laughed, catching the attention of several guests.

  "I do beg your pardon, my lord. I should not have done that."

  "Ah, do not worry, Miss Woodville. I, too, have been teasing and a little too forward with you as well. Shall we start fresh?" he asked her, his mouth in an amused grin that told her he did not mean a word of his apology.

  She liked him even more.

  "Very well. Although I must say, listening to your conversation with Lady Martha this afternoon, I almost fell asleep. Such lively conversation you Londoners have. You must be well rested most of the time."

  He laughed again, and she decided she enjoyed the sound of his amusement. Not to mention two delightful dimples rose on his cheeks when he smiled. Golly, to be the center of his attention, to be the woman he loved, would be a heady thing indeed. Maybe she ought to consider marriage more carefully as her mama wanted her to. If other men in London were as handsome as Lord Leigh, taking one's vows with a gentleman would not be so bad.

  Hailey certainly seemed to be delighted.

  "I think we're going to be fast friends, Miss Woodville."

  "Isla, please, everyone calls me that, and whenever I hear Miss Woodville, I think that my sister Hailey is nearby."

  "Isla it is then, when we're not so much among company."

  Her name sounded so odd, slipping from his lips in his deep, gravelly tone. She shivered, wondering why he had such a strange effect on her. He was handsome to be sure, and amusing, but he had not attempted anything other than friendship toward her person. That she was all jittery and breathless whenever she was around him would never do. She did not want to become the butt of jokes at the house party as some besotted country chit after the eligible Viscount Leigh.

  "And may I call you Leigh?" she asked, wanting to move her mind away from imagining what his lips would feel like against hers. He had the loveliest mouth, his teeth perfectly straight. How providential he was in fortune and status. He had everything, and while she was lucky indeed herself, she knew as well as anyone that she was not as accomplished as those in attendance here at Lord Billington's estate. She could not draw or play the pianoforte very well. She could read, however, and ride a horse as well as anyone, and so long as no one asked her to sing, all would be splendid.

  "You may call me Leigh, of course. Or, since we're becoming fast friends, those closest to me call me Duke."

  "Duke?" she asked, wondering how it was that he came to be named so. "People call you Duke?"

  "It is my given name. A gift from my father who always thought the family ought to have a dukedom, not a viscountcy."

  "Oh dear, your father seemed quite the character," she said.

  He cringed a little at her words. "You have no idea," he said before smiling at her, seemingly shaking off any melancholy feelings their conversation brought up.

  Isla thought about his name and what she felt most comfortable using. "I think I shall call you Leigh, and then no one can suspect anything untoward between us. I do not wish to cause talk or get in the way of Lady Martha's plans."

  "You speak as if using my given name would make people think that we're having an illicit affair."

  She choked on her sip of wine and quickly placed it on the small table before them while she caught her breath. "I would never presume to be so forward, my lord. I hope that is not what you think of me." Even though she had imagined his mouth on hers only minutes before and what it would feel like for him to kiss her.

  "I'm merely teasing." He poured a small glass of water and handed it to her. "Drink this. It will help."

  Isla did as he suggested and felt better for it. "You know as well as I do that to use a given name is looked upon as favoritism and possibly the start of courtship. You should not tease me so with trying to shock me."

  "But it is so amusing to see you all flushed and muddled." Their eyes met and held, and Lord Leigh cleared his throat, glancing away. "But I promise not to try to shock you anymore. We are friends, and I like your company. I hope we can spend more time together during the two weeks we're here in York."

  "And I too," she said, a little disappointed when he excused himself and went to speak with another group of guests. Thankfully Harlow came and sat beside her, a curious look on her face.

  "Was that Lord Leigh speaking to you yet again? I think he may like you, Isla."

  She shushed her friend, fighting the urge to look where the viscount now stood, even though out the corner of her eye she could see he was taller than the gentlemen and one lady he stood with. Lady Susan Craig, if she were correct.

  "We are acquaintances, that is all. He's merely being polite to me because of my sister marrying one of his friends in town. There is nothing more to it than that."

  "Hmm," Harlow said, her tone not convinced. "I beg to differ. He's a viscount, wealthy, and not in need of a wife, but he's here, talking to you."

  "And others," Isla interjected. "Even now, he has Lady Susan all aflutter and blushing. I wonder what he is saying."

  Harlow looked in his direction, a small frown crossing her brow. "Well, I think he does like you. You merely need to make him like you better than anyone else here. Do you wish to do such a thing?"

  Isla shrugged, unsure she did. She was to have a Season next year. It wasn't important she made a match beforehand. And, well, this party was really just so she could meet some new people before traveling to London and having a Season.

  Entering the Beau Monde. The fickle ton.

  "I do not know him well enough to decide, but I'm sure by the end of the house party I shall know if I want to further my acquaintance with the man in London."

  "Did you hear that tomorrow we're to partake in a hunt? Although I think it's closer to a ride about the countryside rather than trying to catch the dear little foxes that usually they chase. Will you be going? I heard several ladies are not because the jumps that the gentlemen like to enjoy are too high."

  The thought of riding at speed, gaining some fresh air, and looking over this lovely estate was tempting. And she was never one to not go on a ride if offered. "I think I will attend. What about you?" she asked Harlow, knowing she too enjoyed riding horses as much as she did.

  "Yes, I think I shall attend," her friend said, glancing across the room and watching Lord Kemsley, a marquess, if Isla was correct. She narrowed her eyes on her friend, wondering at the light blush that stole across her cheeks while watching the gentleman.

  "Talking of matches, is there anything that you wish to tell me regarding yourself, Harlow?" Isla inquired, pinning her to the spot.

  Her friend's blush deepened, and she sipped from her glass of ratafia, which was unfortunately empty. Isla chuckled.

  "No, I have nothing to add regarding myself," Harlow answered, placing down her glass. "I'm merely trying to guide you since a certain gentleman seems to seek you out often."

  Isla looked back to where the viscount stood with Lady Susan, and as much as she would like to think he may harbor an inkling of something more than friendship, she would be deluding herself to believe such fanciful thoughts. No viscount, not any of these gentlemen here present would look to her, not when there were so many other ladies of greater social influence than herself to choose from. No, they would be friends, and she would be content with that. At least in London, mayhap he would help her decide on someone suitable and guide her through the many gentlemen who may court her if she were so fortunate to make all her mother's dreams come true and become the latest diamond of the first water.

  An unlikely dream, but still, he could guide her such as a brother might do. If she could solidify their friendship here at the house party.

  "I am friends with Lord Leigh, and that is all, and that is quite enough. Until we're in London next year, there is no rush to the altar."

  "Too true," Harlow said, sighing as if she only half-believed what she had said.

  Isla smiled at her and
sipped her drink, counting down the hours until she could go to bed and read and then partake in the hunt tomorrow. It was a much more enjoyable way to pass the time than sitting in a drawing room after dinner pretending to enjoy oneself as they were right now.

  Dull did not even come close to how bored she was.

  Chapter

  Five

  The following morning Isla was pleased to find that she was given a mare of sixteen hands. Her horse had kind eyes, which she found comforting, and lovely long legs that would help her get over any hedge groves or fences that they may come across.

  Lord Billington had assured her mount was both placid and competent, not that she minded a lively ride, so long as they allowed her to ride astride. Today, if her mount was as they said, she would ride side saddle and look the part of the lady her mama raised her to be.

  They set out not long after breaking their fast, and thankfully Isla noted several other ladies had joined the hunt. All of them seemed accomplished riders if the first small fallen tree limb jump they had to cross was any indication.

  Isla kept to the rear of the riders, letting those who wished to make sport of the day and race through the course and back to the house have their fun. She wanted to revel in the fact she was outdoors for the first time in days, free to walk or gallop, whatever she chose to do before returning to the house. They may not have another day out like this one, not on the horses in any case. The house party was, after all, only two weeks in duration.

  She spied the riders in a field ahead and then heard the steady thump of hooves coming up from behind. She glanced over her shoulder, and her heart stuttered at the sight of Lord Leigh approaching fast. He was too good to be true, the wind whipping at his riding jacket and hair. He appeared determined and strong. The type of gentleman she had only read about in her novels.

  She had not seen him in the group of riders readying themselves at the estate and had thought he did not want to take part in the hunt. Perhaps he was merely a little late for the event.

  He pulled his mount to a comfortable trot beside her. He wore no hat today, and his hair was a little windswept from his gallop. She drank him in for as long as she could before looking back between her horse's ears.

  "I almost missed the hunt. That will teach me not to dally in my rooms longer than I ought."

  "You were dallying in your rooms, my lord? Whatever for?" she asked, genuinely curious as to why. He did not look like a man who lay about and ran late for things. On the contrary, he appeared to be engaged and eager for any event that came his way.

  "My valet misplaced my riding boots after my arrival, and I had to wait for them to be found. Luckily, they had been left downstairs in his room when he took them down to polish, but I nearly missed the ride. And that, my dear, would have been a tragedy indeed."

  "Indeed," she said, unable to hide the grin from her lips. Did he mean that he did not wish to miss riding with her? He was riding alongside her now. Certainly, he seemed to have enjoyed her company back at the house. Was she foolish and too hopeful to want such an outcome with Lord Leigh? To want him to think of her as much as she was starting to think of him?

  She met his gaze, his easy smile settling her fears. "I do love a good hunt even though this one is in name only."

  "A woman after my own heart," he teased her. "And look ahead, Miss Woodville, for the jump is one of the highest we'll cross today. Make sure you have yourself well seated for it."

  Isla looked ahead and saw the hedgerows that grew through an old wooden gate. The hedge had been cut down to the gate level, but even that did little to lessen the height they would have to clear. She adjusted her seat, gripping the reins but allowing more lead to her horse. Lord Leigh made the jump with ease, and she spurred her horse on, leaning forward and low on her saddle to help her horse make the jump.

  Except, just as the horse lifted its two front hooves, a fox bolted out from the hedgerows, startling her mount. Mid-jump, her horse shied and landed awkwardly. With little success, Isla tried to counteract her horse's jump to the side, and with dread rising through her, she knew she was about to come off.

  The ground came up to greet her with sickening speed, and she landed on her back, the earth only partly softened by the grass. Isla watched as her horse bolted off toward the other riders who had ridden away. She lay there for several moments, each breath she took burned her lungs, and she fought to control the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

  "Isla!" The sound of Lord Leigh's voice went a little way in calming her. He skidded to a stop at her side, helping her to sit up, his hand rubbing her back in a comforting manner. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

  "There was a fox," she gasped, trying to get a breath into her lungs.

  "You're winded," he said, the circular stokes on her back calming her more. "You will catch your breath in a minute or so. When one lands on their back as you just did, it literally knocks the breath out of you, but you will be well, I promise."

  She nodded, concentrating on his soothing voice and words. After several minutes her breathing became easier, and she looked up at him. "Thank you. I've never fallen from my horse before. As much as it was a new experience for me, it is not one that I wish to experience again."

  His lordship laughed, taking her hand and helping her to stand. He studied her a moment, his gaze moving to her hair. He reached up, playing with her dark locks. "You have a stick stuck in your hair."

  She reached up, and their hands touched. A small smile lifted his lips, and all thought of her fall dissipated. They were standing close, too close. Should anyone come upon them tongues would indeed wag, not that she was in a rush to move away. This close, she could smell Lord Leigh's cologne—sandalwood, and something else that was wholly him. He smelled as divine as he looked. It was no surprise he was a favorite of the ladies at the house party.

  His fingers slipped through her hair, and then he held up the stick before her face, proud to free her from the menacing reminder of her fall. "There, it is out, and you are your perfect self once again."

  Perfect self?

  "Thank you, my lord." She gestured to where his horse stood. "You may continue your ride if you like. I shall walk back to the estate from here. It is not far."

  He frowned, shaking his head. "No, I shall not leave you alone after such a fall. I shall walk with you back to the house. Just let me get my mount to jump over this hedgerow once again, and we will be on our way."

  Isla nodded, glad that he chose to walk with her than return to the hunt. She still did not feel the best, and a little selfish part of her wanted him to remain with her.

  "Thank you, you're too kind." She stepped out of the way as he jumped back on his mount and glided it over the fence with ease.

  She sighed, wishing she had not fallen and was still riding. She had been looking forward to today too. He dismounted and came to her, helping her over the fence before they started back for the estate.

  His hand was warm on her arm before he lifted it and entwined hers with his. "I'm sorry to keep you from the hunt. If you were like me, you were looking forward to the day about the countryside."

  He waved her concerns aside, seemingly not worried that they were headed back to the house. "It is no mind. I can go for a ride whenever I like. And it would not be right should I leave you on the field to make your way back home. Whatever would Derby think of my atrocious manners should I not escort his sister-in-law back to the estate?"

  She threw him a small smile, and yet disappointment stabbed at her heart. He was only helping her out of gentlemanly manners. What was expected of him as a lord and friend to her sister's husband, the duke? She probably ought to forget her fantasies of them riding off in the sunset like so many of her heroines in her books. Certainly, after today it was probably best that she stay off a horse altogether.

  "Well, again I thank you. It is never pleasant to fall off one’s mount."

  "I've fallen off many times, sometimes due to my own inability to st
ay on top of the saddle."

  She laughed, imagining all sorts of situations that may bring on such antics. "Do not tell me, Lord Leigh, that sometimes you imbibe in too much wine and struggle to keep your seat. I can promise you this much," she grinned, "my falling off today was due to a fox, not being foxed, I assure you."

  He smiled down at her, his hand coming over hers on his arm and holding her there. Whether he knew what he had done or not, she did not know, nor was she going to ask and have him remove himself from her person.

  She liked him. Liked having him touch her.

  Her gaze slid to his lips, his next words lost to her as she reveled in the sight of him talking. He was so handsome and kind. He would be the perfect type of gentleman who she would allow to court her. She had not wanted to come to this house party, certainly not a house party with mostly titled gentlemen and ladies whom she had little in common with, but being with Lord Leigh, she could not help but change her mind.

  Her Season in town next year would not be so very bad. Certainly not as bad as she had started to think it would be. Not if all the gentlemen at the balls and parties walked in the park, and Almacks was as accommodating and thoughtful as Lord Leigh was.

  "I feel like we are becoming fast friends, and you are quite amusing, Miss Woodville. You were so very nervous and serious when we first met that I did not always think that would be the case."

  He started down a small hill, and before her, she could see the brook that had been the first jump for the hunting party. "I was nervous, you see, my lord," she admitted to him. "I do not know anyone other than Lord Billington and not even his lordship very well. I was worried that I would not be welcomed here due to not being, well…" She paused, searching for the right words so as not to insult him or his friends.

  "As high in the instep as some of the guests here are?" he finished for her, a mischievous light to his eyes. "I can understand your woe, but I think you have settled in well, and I have not heard anything but good things said about you."

  But what do you think about me? Isla wanted to ask, but kept her mouth determinedly closed. "Everyone I have met so far seems very nice," she lied, knowing there were several ladies who were yet to speak to her or offer the hand of friendship. She was more than ever thankful her friend Harlow had been allowed to attend with her, so she was never alone. "But yes, my father may be a gentleman, but we live a quiet kind of life to what I think you are all used to. I'm not yet comfortable in this sphere that has opened up to me since my sister's wedding. I feel like the odd one out."