Free Behind The Horseman (The Underwood Mysteries Book 3) by Suzanne Downes Page A

thing,” he told her, with perfect gravity.  Lady Cara thought she had never met a more accomplished philanderer.  Her stay in Hanbury was looking set to be one of her more enjoyable adventures.  She could almost fall in love with this man, though she had assiduously avoided this foolishness in the past.  Her parents desired nothing more than marriage and babies for her, but she was determined to enjoy herself first.  She travelled about the country, tolerating only the company of her duenna because her father, indulgent as he was, would not hear of her complete solitude, and she stopped along the way as her fancy took her and for as long as her whim dictated.  She had met some very satisfactory men, though sadly the less money and position in life a man had, the more interesting he was forced to be.  The sort of prospective husbands of which her father approved were dead bores, but even the shallow and self-centred Lady Cara had more sense than to fall in love with a penniless rogue, even though she had led more than one to believe she might.  Underwood was different – very different indeed.  His apparent disinterest piqued her, his calm demeanour intrigued her, and his very presence attracted her more than she wanted to admit, even to herself.  She could see for herself that he cared nothing for convention, dressed, as he was, with his usual casual elegance, which showed he cared for his appearance, but not enough to prove he suffered a surfeit of vanity.  How could she know, never having been told, that he owed much of his present style to his loving Verity?  Lady Cara had only ever seen him alone, and she did not know anyone well enough to ask questions about him.  She had made the fatal error of assuming much and discovering little.  As for Underwood, it never occurred to him for a moment that this titled, rich, fashionable young woman had any interest in him at all, apart from her obvious friendliness.  The one thing he had vastly underestimated all his adult life was his curious attractiveness, and not only to the female of the species.  He wrongly thought that beauty in the male or female form was all that counted in romance.  The notion he might be far more riveting than some well-built Adonis would have both amused and shocked him.
    “Tell me about Hanbury, Mr. Underwood.  Have you lived here for very long?”
    “No, only a few months – but already it feels like a lifetime.  There is an aura about the place which suits my temperament.  The lack of true convention, the friendliness of the natives, the ever changing population – yes, I think of Hanbury as my home now, after many years of rootlessness.”
    It was unfortunate that Jeremy should choose this moment to come to the window and call out to Underwood, for Lady Cara was about to remark upon his need for the solid roots only a wife can provide.  The interruption meant that she was to continue in ignorance of Verity’s existence for some time to come.
                     Jeremy hoisted Underwood off to the card room, though he knew Underwood never gambled, “I’m saving you from yourself, my dear fellow.”
    “What the deuce do you mean by that?”
    “Lady Cara Lovell,” commented Jeremy succinctly.
    “What about her?” asked the ever naïve Underwood, genuinely puzzled by this remark.
    “God!  Was there ever a man so slow on the uptake?” lamented the experienced ladies’ man, “She is on your trail, my friend, and she won’t quit until she has you cornered!”
    “Oh, for pity’s sake, stop talking in riddles,” said Underwood testily.
    “Very well.  I shall be as plain as I can be.  The woman wants you.”
    Underwood laughed, “Now, that is where you are wrong, Thornycroft.  She told me herself this evening that I am not her ‘sort’.  Your trouble is, you don’t believe in Platonic friendships – for you there must always be a hint of romance.”             
    “Take my word for