Free Tessa's Touch by Brenda Hiatt

attracted by her unusual blend of
spirit, competence and beauty. Abruptly irritated, though at what he could not
precisely say, Anthony kicked Cinder in her direction.
    "—delighted to have you ride with us
again," young William Jennison was saying as he approached. "I can't
describe the pleasure you gave me on Monday, with your superb
performance." There was a chorus of agreement from several others.
    Miss Seaton blushed and lowered her eyes in
obvious confusion. "I, ah, thank you, gentlemen," she murmured.
    "Aye," Stormy agreed. "I must
say, I'm looking forward to seeing you put this mare through her paces. I quite
admire her lines, as I said on Monday." That last comment was directed at
Mr. Emery, who was looking rather pleased with himself, Anthony thought.
    "I also am delighted that you are joining
us again, Miss Seaton," he said, rather more loudly than he'd intended.
    Her startled glance met his and her color
deepened further. "Lord Anthony! I didn't —that is— thank you, my
lord." With a barely perceptible shifting of her weight, she moved her
mare forward, through the opening the others hastily created. Her uncle
followed, now looking less pleased.
    "I'd like to speak with you— with both of
you," Anthony said before they could pass him, as they clearly intended to
do.
    "About what?" Emery asked with a
certain belligerance.
    Anthony coolly looked him up and down before
answering. "About the horse you sold to my friend Monday night. It appears
his temperament is not quite what we were all led to believe." His glance
slid to Miss Seaton, who looked away.
    "That auction was conducted fair and
square." Emery was as defensive as his son had been last week about the
chestnut, Zephyr. "Are you suggesting otherwise, my lord?"
    "No, really, Anthony," Stormy began,
but Anthony silenced him with a glance. Stormy frowned, then shrugged and took
himself off.
    "I've no quibble with the auction
itself," Anthony replied once he had gone, refusing to rise to Emery's
baiting. "But I can't help feeling the horse was, ah, misrepresented
beforehand." Miss Seaton still refused to meet his gaze, rather to his
frustration.
    "We did nothing illegal," Emery was
quick to point out. "It's up to those interested in purchasing to do their
own research and draw their own conclusions, after all."
    Anthony raised a brow. "I implied no
illegality. Ethics and the law are not always in accord, however." Then,
turning deliberately to the silent girl, "I will be interested to see how
that mare performs under you today, Miss Seaton."
    Now she did meet his glance. "I've no
doubt Cinnamon will do well, as she has a wonderful disposition —no matter who
is riding her." There was a certain defiance about the angle of her chin.
    "Indeed. I would not presume to doubt your
word, of course."
    "Would you not?" she retorted.
"It sounds very much to me as though that is exactly what you are doing.
How, pray, can you claim that we misrepresented Nimbus on Monday, simply
because I rode him well? Surely, you are not suggesting that any gentleman who
calls himself a sportsman cannot handle a horse as well as a lady on her very
first hunt?"
    Anthony frowned, for that is exactly what he'd
meant to suggest, though put into words it did sound rather absurd. "My
apologies, Miss Seaton," he said shortly, then turned his horse and headed
back to the rest of the Odd Sock Club.
    Tessa stared after him, frowning —and seething.
How dare he accuse her of deliberately deceiving everyone on Monday? She had
simply ridden her best and left the rest to chance —and Uncle Mercer. And that
money had already gone toward the absolutely necessary repairs on the west wing
roof. Clearly, anyone who could afford to pay twelve hundred pounds for a horse
had never faced such a choice.
    It was all rationalization, though, and she
knew it. "I warned you, didn't I?" she said to Uncle Mercer as her
temper cooled, to be replaced by a degree of shame.
    He shrugged. "Lord Killerby looks