Despite the misty, gray weather the next morning, I took Phaeton out for a ride. The gloominess cast a different appearance over the countryside and did nothing to improve my mood. The night before my sister-in-law had been as impossible as ever, and Father had sided with her.

"Why can you not be more agreeable, Lucas?"

Father's words rang through my mind as I crossed the wet ground. I had disappointed him so much when I had objected to Rosamund's suggestion I negotiate to rent a property thirty miles away. Deep down, I know my father wanted what was best for me, but he and I were so different, I couldn't see how he would even begin to understand what was right for me.

"Halt!"

That sharp command brought me from my reverie, and I glanced about me until I spotted the speaker. A man on a black horse came towards, a surly expression on his face. I reined Phaeton to a halt and waited until the rider reached my side.

"You are trespassing, " he said without a greeting, his tone accusing.

"Indeed I am not. This is Bywood land, is it not?"

My tone was sharp. He sneered and shook his head. "While I rent it, it is my land, and I may say who is allowed to ride here and who is not. You are a stranger to me, and therefore you are the trespasser."

So this was John Lamotte, Rosamund's brother, and my father's renter. His appearance was nothing like my sister-in-law with his dark eyes and brown hair, though there was a haughtiness in his bearing that resembled Rosamund's. "I meant no offense, sir," I said to him. "I have ridden these grounds for years. I am Lucas Bywood."

The calculating expression that crossed his face puzzled me. "John Lamotte. I've heard of you."

I didn't even bother trying to hold back my sigh. "And what have you heard?"

He chuckled, setting me on edge. "Oh, nothing too dreadful." I felt relief until he continued with, "Only how you have let an inheritance go to your head and now you refuse to be guided by anyone."

"Only that?" I asked wryly. The mist had shifted back into rain, and I could feel cold drops running down my back. "I believe you are acquainted with a friend of mine, Mr. Miles Russell."

Lamotte's eyes shifted away, in a manner that could only be described as 'guilty.' "We have met in passing."

"In passing you say? Miles mentioned there was a debt of honor he has been trying to repay."

"Your friend may wait upon my pleasure in this matter," Lamotte said sharply. Whatever interest I had incited in him vanished in an instant. "He may repay his debt when I say he shall. Now, I must ask you to remove yourself from my property or shall not be held accountable for my actions."

Rougher than was necessary, he jerked her horse's head around and rode away. Annoyed, I guided Phaeton in the direction I knew was the property line of Oakcrest. I glanced over my shoulder to see the outline of Lamotte in the distance, watching me.

Why would Lamotte want to keep Miles from repaying him? It was not honorable to refuse payment for a gambling debt. Of course, my initial impression of Lamotte was that honor was not of great importance to him.

Every time I woke up, I was faced with more questions than answers; more irritations than enjoyment. I also had no idea how I was to get to the bottom of it all.

****

Everyone was thankful when the weather finally cleared up later that day. That evening, an invitation to join the house party for the afternoon in two days time arrived. George claimed estate business would keep him entirely occupied, though I suspected he merely wished for some time to himself. Thus, Miles and I escorted Philippa and Rosamund to Braglow.

Wanting to have an option for escape if it became necessary, I followed the carriage on Phaeton. "Do promise you will not behave in your usual manner, Lucas," Rosamund said when I offered her my hand to assist her out of the conveyance. "We will be guests here, and though you may have spent a great deal of time here and view it quite like a second home, it would reflect badly on us all."

"My dear sister, I was not aware you were old enough to offer me such council." I couldn't keep from, bristling at her condescending tone of voice. Our relationship was on a downward spiral, and I was tired of being polite. "If you be so kind as to remember you are not my mother and even my sisters. Only they can exact such promises from me."

Her eyes widened with offense. "Oh, don't argue, please," Philippa said as she climbed down next. A twinge of guilt hit as I took in how upset she seemed to be over the situation. It wasn't fair to her or Miles.

"You are abominable, Lucas Bywood," Rosamund said, ignoring Philly's plea. "I will tell your father and George as soon as we return."

"I am not a child to fear you carrying tales to my father," I said in as mild a manner as possible. I offered her my arm, and she scowled. "We are being watched, Rosamund. You will appear shrewish if you refuse my escort now."

That prompted her to put her hand on my arm, and we marched to the front door. I had no idea why she continued to act hostile towards me, but I knew it was getting out of hand. I would have to seek Mama's advice in smoothing this out. No one could resolve problems like Mama, and only the concern for her health had kept me from confiding in her sooner.

Servants took our coats and hats, and then we were shown to the drawing room. There was a small crowd assembled there, and they could be heard long before we reached there. Mrs. Ramsey delightedly greeted us as soon as we were announced and then made the necessary introductions.

There was the Williamson family: Mr. and Mrs. Williamson, the eldest daughter Katherine, and the younger daughter Eleanor. Then, there was a tall, dark-haired man by the name of Mr. Ward, who had a more reserved air about him. He acknowledged the introduction with a slightly inclined head but said nothing.

The remainder of the house party was known to us: Mrs. and Miss Darkin, Mr. Talbot, and the Ramseys.

Philippa made a bee-line for the Williamson sisters. Rosamund settled herself with Mrs. Ramsey and Mrs. Williamson, looking a little unhappy about being with the married ladies. Sending a sideways glance at me, Miles approached where Phoebe and Miss Darkin were sketching a vase of flowers.

"Do you have any fine fishing spots around here, Mr. Bywood?" Mr. Williamson asked, getting my attention. "We were talking of having a little friendly competition this coming week."

"Indeed, sir. Though Mr. Ramsey has the best-stocked fishing pond in the area."

"No need to flatter me, my boy," Mr. Ramsey said jovially. He clapped me on the shoulder, a fond smile on his face. "After all, you already have permission to court, my daughter."

I forced a smile and glanced over to where Phoebe was laughing at something said. I hoped he would be more concerned about her happiness and not forever blame me when this courtship ended. "I only speak the truth, Mr. Ramsey."

"I hope I can see my girls settled soon, especially my Katherine," Mr. Williamson said as I breathed a sigh of relief. "Can you tell me anything of Mr. Russell's circumstances, unless he has already formed an attachment to Miss Darkin?"

Mr. Ramsey spun around to see Miles point out some detail of Miss Darkin's sketch. "Not that I am aware," he said, though his tone was filled with doubt. "Miss Darkin does not have a great fortune. She will have to do better than young Miles to make a successful match as her brother has the unfortunate propensity to gamble. Miles, though, would be an excellent match for either of your girls."

Why the Williamson ladies would be better for Miles than Miss Darkin, I had no idea. I had heard gentlemen discuss the advantages of specific matches before, and it had always amused me. This time, I found it irritating beyond bearing, and I wanted no part of it.

Taking a step over to the fireplace where Mr. Ward stood, his expression filled with pure boredom. "Is this your first time to this part of the country, Mr. Ward?" I asked to strike up a conversation.

"I am often in the country in the summer," he said. He examined me for a moment before looking away. "Why waste time at one's own estate when it is much more enjoyable and economical to pass it at someone else's? No doubt you did much the same on your Grand Tour."

"Very true," I was forced to admit, however much I disliked the mercenary concept. "Have you been abroad yourself?"

"Recently, yes."

It was like talking to a brick wall. "Did you enjoy your travels? What places did you visit?" I asked, thinking an exchange of experiences would take up some time.

"I did not." Just when I thought he had said all he intended to say on the matter, he continued in a sharp, blunt tone, "I was told travel would make one forget the charms of a woman. I was misinformed so you will not find me prosing on about the advantages that can be had by traveling, Mr. Bywood. Look elsewhere for that."

That unexpected information took me aback for a moment. He seemed to be one who appreciated blunt honest and so I responded in kind. "Ah, I see. Well, there must be some subject which you are willing to converse on. When deciding between the gossip of young ladies or the repeated ideas of older men, I tend to find any escape possible."

For the first time, Mr. Ward's expression became amused. "Mr. Ramsey has been bragging about your horse, Phaeton is it?" he said, his informal tone deliberate. "How would you feel about testing him against my Tesoro?"

'Tesoro' I recognized as the Italian word for treasure. Finally, something free of any obligations to anyone else. "I never race against an unseen horse," I said, seeing no reason not to be honest. "Shall we go out and compare them before we decide on such a course?"

"What a cautious and logical suggestion," Ward said, the faintest note of mocking in his voice. He straightened up. "If you have no objections, any distraction right now would be welcome."

Any hope of escaping unnoticed by the rest was dashed when Mr. Williamson asked, "And where are you off to?"

"Mr. Bywood has expressed a desire to see Tesoro," Mr. Ward said smoothly, "and I must see this paragon of horseflesh that is Phaeton."

No objections were raised by our departure from the room, most of the occupants were only concerned with their conversation. As we exited the house and walked towards the stables, I glanced over to find Ward directing a rather curious look at me. "What?" I asked.

"You are not concerned Mr. Russell is most attentive to Miss Ramsey?"

I sucked in my breath as I realized the error I had made. Anyone would have expected me to be right beside the lady I was courting. He could not have been the only one to notice the distinct lack of my going to her side to admire and praise her sketching. I would have to be more careful in the future.

"Miles and Phoebe are friends," I said, trying to think quickly. "We played together as we grew up." Never mind such 'playing' had been like open warfare. "I have nothing to fear from him."

Ward scoffed. "A blind man could see it is not mere friendship."

"You have observed them for a mere few minutes, and you make such judgment on a matter that doesn't concern you? I will thank you for refraining from making such comments in the future. Else, you may find yourself becoming acquainted personally with the ground."

"Such a defensive response," he said. A moment later, he shrugged. "It is no affair of mine, to be sure. I did not come here to offer advice on courtship."

"I would have been surprised to learn a rake such as yourself had come to do so."

He gave an almost bitter laugh as we entered the well-kept stables. "Only a sheltered miss would describe me as a rake, Mr. Bywood, something which I doubt you are. A man such as yourself, who has seen the world, must know there are times when a person is described one way when the exact opposite is the truth."

Words like 'rapscallion,' 'abominable,' and 'disagreeable' drifted through my mind, all words used to describe me. I cleared my throat in embarrassment. "My apologies, Mr. Ward. I spoke without thinking. I can only plead to be under a great deal of stress."

"If I had the misfortune to be in the same house as a newlywed couple and a newly engaged young lady, I would no doubt be feeling much the same. It is bad enough to be an independent bachelor and have every matchmaking mama out to trap you without adding in those who are in the glow of affection and matrimony."

"Exactly!" I said, relieved to have found someone who understood. Miles had always enjoyed the attention and never quite grasped the idea it could be tedious and annoying to some. I reached the stall where my horse munched on grain and patted his neck. "Well, this is Phaeton."

Ward and I spent several hours discussing the lineage of our respective horses and the trainers we had used. I found my companion highly informed on the matter and enjoyed every minute. We agreed upon a race, setting the time and date for two weeks later at one o'clock in the afternoon.

****

"Lucas, I would like a word with you."

Those were not the words I wanted to hear the minute I stepped through the doorway. A mere day had passed since the official beginning of the house party at Braglow had begun. In anticipation of my race against Ward and his Tesoro, I had been exercising Phaeton. "Certainly, Father," I said with a sigh.

Father didn't say anything but simply walked towards his office. I shrugged off my riding coat and passed it off to Butler. I sent a rueful look at my boots, caked with mud, shook my head, and then walked to my Father's office.

He was already seated behind his desk, which wasn't a good sign for me. "Is there something on your mind, Father?" I asked as I sat across from him.

"I received a rather strange note from Mr. Lamotte. He claims you were on the estate without permission."

"So he claimed. How long will Mr. Lamotte be renting Fordson?"

My question seemed to surprise Father, and he frowned. "We have a contract between us for a length of five years. Why? Did you have an unspoken interest in the estate? I can see what I can do about breaking the contract if that is the case."

"No, I was curious for how long I would be banned from riding Phaeton across the grounds. I was surprised to be accused of trespassing earlier this week."

"Mr. Lamotte wished to have his privacy secure," Father said, waving his hand dismissively. "It is a bit of an inconvenience to be sure, but we have been working around it these past six months well enough. Did we not mention this fact?"

"No, you did not."

Father seemed to sense my annoyance because his voice became defensive. "Well, you cannot expect us to keep you abreast of every change in the estate if you insist on doing whatever you wish and leaving the country."

It always came back to my leaving. Sighing, I got to my feet. "I'm sorry to have disappointed you yet again, Father. If you will excuse me, I have an appointment with Mama, and I would hate to keep her waiting."

Father echoed me with a sigh of his own. "Of course."

I strode out without a word. As I did so, I caught sight of a rose-colored morning gown vanishing around the corner. Had Rosamund been eavesdropping? I clenched my jaw at the notion. She had become a constant thorn in my side, and I had no idea how I would be able to cope for much longer.