Greg was regarding the inn's guest with astonishment. "Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but you're not 'is lordship, are you?"
"Yes, he is, Greg. I can't imagine why Lord Stoneridge hasn't made himself known to you before this," Theo said coldly.
"Perhaps imagination isn't your strong point," the earl said, carelessly flicking her cheek with a fingertip as he perched on the edge of the table beside her.
Theo brushed at her cheek as if a fly had settled there and said pointedly, "You'll forgive me, my lord, but I have business to transact with Greg for the dower house cellars."
"I forgive you," he said with a bland smile, not moving from his perch. "And you'll forgive me, I'm sure, if I suggest that you also take care of the manor's needs at this time."
"Those needs are no longer my concern, sir."
"I think you will find that they are," he said, a hint of steel in his voice now, a cold glint in the gray eyes. "Have done with this nonsense, cousin."
Greg abruptly dived behind the bar counter, reemerging with a crusted bottle and three glasses. "A glass of burgundy," he suggested with a hearty chuckle. "Best eighty-nine vintage. It's the last bottle left of that consignment, but I'm hopin' the Gentlemen'll manage a few more this run."
Theo accepted the diversion with relief. She couldn't imagine what the innkeeper must have thought of that terse exchange, but clearly she had to yield the issue. It would be childishly spiteful to refuse her help, but Gilbraith could have asked for it instead of demanding it.
Sylvester played no part in the exchange between Theo and Greg. He listened attentively, sipping his wine. His cousin was both knowledgeable and efficient as she listed the manor's needs. It was highly improper, however, for a young lady of breeding to be so at ease in a local taproom. Had her grandfather encouraged this familiarity? It surprised him that Lady Belmont would allow such behavior. It would have to change once they were married. Just as this racketing around the country like an itinerant gypsy would have to stop.
She glanced at him at the end and said, "I trust that will do for you, my lord."
"I trust so, cousin." He offered a mock bow. "I shall know who's responsible if it doesn't, won't I?"
Was he accusing her of deliberately misordering, just to spite him? Her eyes widened in indignation and the earl laughed.
"I'm truly grateful for your assistance," he said, setting his glass on the table.
Theo closed her lips tight on a retort and turned back to Greg. "Now, I need a separate order for the dower house…"
"That's somewhat modest," the earl observed when she finally nodded her satisfaction and rose from the bench.
"A modest household has modest needs, sir," she said coldly. "Greg, that account should be sent to Lady Belmont at the dower house."
She gathered up her gloves and whip. "I'll send Alfred with the gig to collect the supplies in the morning____________________Lord Stoneridge, I give you good day." She walked out of the taproom toward the kitchen.
Sylvester blinked, realizing that she was wearing a most unusual riding habit – it seemed to have a divided skirt. Surely she wasn't riding astride?
"Make sure both accounts come to me at the manor, Greg," he commanded. "I have an arrangement with Lady Belmont"
"Ah," Greg said, nodding wisely. "One that Lady Theo doesn't know about, I daresay."
Sylvester agreed. It was an outright lie, but he had it in mind to present Lady Belmont with a housewarming gift – a tactful, graceful gesture, but one he suspected would be lost on his fiery young cousin, who, if he'd confided in her, would probably have contrived to insult him in front of the inn-keeper. He strode out of the inn and round to the stables, where he assumed Theo's horse was waiting for her.
She emerged from the kitchen, slipping the parcel of apple tartlets carefully into the deep pocket of her jacket. She saw the earl leaning against the stable wall, idly chewing a straw, and ignored him.
"Ted, my horse, please."
The lad brought the neat dapple-gray mare, and Theo swung astride her without assistance.
"An unusual choice of saddle," Sylvester commented, crossing the cobbles. "But perhaps not for a gypsy."
"It's convenient," she said shortly, gathering up the reins. "I have always ridden astride round here. No one remarks it. Good day, Lord Stoneridge."
Something else that would have to be discouraged in his countess. Shaking his head, he mounted his own horse and rode out after her. It was just his luck that the only possible Belmont daughter had to be this intransigent romp who clearly detested him… Perhaps he could persuade Lady Belmont to reconsider an offer for Clarissa.
But no… the pursuit might be harder with Theo, but winning over such a passionate nature would be worth the effort. Besides, Theo's knowledge and expertise in estate management made her an invaluable resource.
He urged his horse into a gallop, coming up with her as she turned out of the village toward the cliff top above Lulworth Cove.
"A word with you, cousin."
"Why can't you leave me alone!" she exclaimed in a low voice.
His lips tightened. "It would be so much easier for everyone if you'd accept the inevitable with good grace," he said with calculated severity. "We are going to be neighbors whether you like it or not. You are behaving like a spoiled hoyden who should have had some manners whipped into her years ago."
"I do accept the inevitable," she said, flushing. "But I don't have to cultivate you. You seem to be deliberately trying to annoy me, following me around, pestering me, making me sound horrible… and I'm not."
She sounded so desperately aggrieved that he couldn't help being amused. Leaning over, he placed a hand over hers and said, smilingly persuasive, "I believe you, Theo, and I don't intend to make you sound horrible. But I do wish to get to know you, and you're making it very difficult for me."
Shark! Theo snatched her hand away and nudged Dulcie's flanks, turning her aside onto a ribbon track descending the cliff to the cove. The mare stepped surefooted down the steep path, clearly familiar with the terrain. Sylvester set his black to follow, holding him on a tight rein as he picked his way cautiously through the loose sand and scree.
Theo heard the horse behind her and began to feel as if she were truly hunted quarry. It was time that odious Gilbraith tasted her mettle. It was time to stand and fight.
The mare reached the smooth, flat sand of the beach, and Theo dismounted, knotting the reins on the horse's neck, waiting until the black had touched solid ground.
She tossed her hat aside and unbuttoned her jacket with slow deliberation. "Very well, my lord. Since you won't leave me alone for the asking, then I challenge you to combat. The best of three falls." She slipped out of her jacket and regarded him steadily.
Sylvester's eyes were unreadable as he met her gaze for a long minute. Then in silence he swung off his mount.
Theo placed her jacket on the sand and stood facing him, a lithe, slender figure in her white shirt, her feet braced, her legs unhampered by the divided skirt. She raised her arms and tightened the pins that held her plaits in a knot at the nape of her neck. Her breasts lifted with the movement, their crowns dark for an instant against the fine cambric shirt.
"The best of three falls, my lord. And if I win, you keep your distance from now on. Is it agreed?"
Sylvester shrugged out of his own coat and rolled up his sleeves. "Certainly," he said calmly. "And if / win, gypsy, I'll have some courtesies from you that might make you redefine the meaning of the word."
He could mean only one thing. Theo stared at him; her lips tingled abruptly with the memory of his kisses, and there were strange vibrations deep in her belly as her body of its own accord responded to the memory of his hardness pressed against her.