Tessa's Touch Read Online Free PDF Page B

of that already than
she'd like, a mere hour or two a day.
    "I'd better get back to the house."
Already she felt the shadows closing in as she turned away from the stables,
away from her one real source of happiness. She paused and looked back.
"Uncle Mercer, I will ride in the hunt, if we can convince Papa."
    Her uncle nodded, a gleam in his eyes, and
Tessa continued up the hill, pushing away her misgivings. If nothing else, such
a plan would give her far more time with the horses —and that was worth almost
anything.
     
    * *
     *

    "Come along, Stormy," Anthony called
from atop Cinder, his covert hack. "The meet begins in half an hour and
none of us want to bring up the rear, you know."
    Sir Charles emerged from the stable on his own
bay hack. "Sorry, sorry. Stirrups needed adjusting. First meet of the
season and all that."
    "Never mind your excuses," Rush said.
"Let's head out. We've at least a ten minute ride ahead of us."
    A dozen members of the Odd Sock Club set their
mounts at a brisk trot toward Quorndon Hall, spirits high in the brisk early
November air. Anthony was almost bursting with eagerness to hunt again. Cub
hunting and aimless gallops through the countryside weren't the same. This was what life was all about, in his view.
    That his comrades shared his enthusiasm was
clear from the rapid-fire chatter and bursts of song along the way. Soon they
could hear the assembling Quorn: the babel of male voices, the whinnying of
excited horses and, over all, the high-pitched whines and yips of the hounds,
as eager as the huntsmen to begin the chase. Rounding the corner into the yard,
the familiar throng of red coats and tophats greeted them.
    "What ho, Smith," Anthony greeted the
Master of the Quorn. "How look the hounds this year?"
    Thomas Assheton Smith, in his eleventh season as
Master, grinned. "Better than ever, Lord Anthony. They'll give us a good
run, whatever the fox does. And we've three good coverts marked."
    Thor and Rush rode up to discuss some of the
finer points with Smith and one of his whippers-in. Thor, in particular, was
keen on breeding hounds himself and always wanted to be up on the latest
pairings and the pups they'd produced.
    Anthony listened for a few minutes, then rode
over to check on his hunter, Faro, which he'd mount once they reached the first
covert. It was an unnecessary complication, he thought, for a good hunter like
Faro wasn't likely to be tired by the short ride to the stand of trees or brush
where a fox was likely to be found. However, it had become the custom in recent
years to ride one horse to covert and another in the hunt itself. Cinder and
Faro were both exceptional beasts, so Anthony had no real quibble with the
practice.
    Faro was just as he'd been when they'd left the
lodge, so Anthony soon turned his attention to the crowd, renewing the few
acquaintances he hadn't seen since his arrival in Melton several weeks ago. Old
Thripton, he noticed, was fatter than ever, and had a new, heavier hunter to
bear him.
    A flash of pink caught his eye and he turned to
see that Lord Gryfton had a new mistress this year, mounted for the hunt, as
usual. As Anthony himself had done in years past, the viscount made a point of
keeping women who could ride, though some were better horsewomen than others.
Last year's bit of muslin had been worse than most, refusing to even attempt
any of the jumps, Anthony recalled. No wonder she'd been replaced.
    Sight of the pretty blonde in her habit
recalled Miss Seaton, who'd never been far from his mind these past few days,
if truth be told. That was a woman he'd pay money to see in the hunt, he
thought. Not that it could happen, of course, since these days no women but the
occasional mistress ever actually rode to the hounds.
    Pity.
    He'd only seen a small sample of Miss Seaton's
riding, of course, and that in breeches, but there had been something about her
fluid grace, something about the way she sat her mare, that made him certain
she'd be a treat to