Free The Earl of Ice by Helen A. Grant Page B

burden—only to find Lord Brockwood hovering closely behind her. She took a deep breath and for a moment allowed the scent of soap, leather and some other clean masculine scent she had grown to associate with Rollo wash over her, invading her senses. She briefly closed her eyes while she battled an unexpected and nearly overwhelming urge to turn and bury her face in his broad chest.
    “Are you sure you want to ride Demon this morning? Another mount can be made available.” Although Demon was much calmer now that Diana had taken the reins from the groom, Rollo still feared for her safety. He quickly brushed away the thought that the tightness in his stomach was due to any growing attachment to her. After all, as host, it was his duty to protect his guests.
    Viscount Westbury was oblivious to the earl’s concern and waited patiently until they returned to where the other horses, Periklis and Hermes, were standing. Rollo assisted Diana to mount, once again finding his eyes lingering on the shapely ankle exposed, before pulling himself away. Eventually all three were mounted, and letting Diana take the lead until she had Demon settled, they walked the horses down the drive.
    “Fine horsewoman, my Diana,” stated Viscount Westbury proudly.
    “Indeed,” was all Rollo replied, still on edge at the sight of her on the unpredictable Demon.
    The two men followed Diana at a distance until it became obvious that Demon had settled, then Rollo moved Periklis to the front and led the small party of riders across the fields toward Parton Village.
    “Hermes is a fine animal,” the viscount said. “I would like to try him out at a gallop. Is that all right with you?”
    “Of course. I will be happy to up the pace. Are you with us, Diana?”
    “Certainly.” Diana laughed, happy at the prospect of feeling the wind in her face.
    The ground was eaten up as they galloped across the fields until, in the distance, the outskirts of the village came into view. Rollo slowed Periklis to a trot, and the others did likewise. Taking into account Demon’s nature, he suggested they tether the horses just outside the village and walk the rest of the way.
    The eyes of all the villagers were trained on the Earl of Brockwood and his guests as they walked to the high street, where the few shops in the village were situated. Rollo acknowledged those who doffed their caps to him with a brief nod of his head. Diana linked arms with her father and returned the smiles from the villagers, who seemed very friendly.
    Rollo indicated the location of the tea room and went on his way. Diana clapped her hands with delight upon entering the small establishment, which boasted no more than six tables. Each table was covered by brightly coloured linen, which itself was partially covered by a white damask tablecloth. Half of the tables were occupied and the sound of conversation and the clattering and chinking of porcelain teacups made the room welcoming. A rosy-cheeked waitress with a spotless white pinafore and hair tucked neatly under a lace cap took their order.
    Diana, with her appetite stimulated by the ride, ordered a slice of strawberry torte, and her father, spoiled for choice, eventually settled on the rum cake after being informed that the rum came all the way from the Bahamas. So enjoyable was this cake that when Lord Brockwood joined them an hour later, not only did he recommend it, Lord Westbury was persuaded to try another slice.
    Eventually, with tea and cake consumed, the three took their leave, and the tea-room proprietor personally thanked them for their patronage. They strolled back through the village, mounted their horses and enjoyed a gentle ride across Brockwood land toward the folly.
    “Needlepoint Folly is so named because the outline of the window in one of the towers looks, from a distance, like a tapestry needle,” Rollo explained. “The folly is also called Sarah’s Folly after my great-grandmother, who designed it to resemble the