least in a particular area. Genie pushed thoughts of Edmund and his…skills from her mind. “I still haven’t quite forgiven you for not telling me the purpose of this party in advance. But I am having a good time.” She smiled to take the sting from the first part.
Cecilia gave her a sheepish look. “I should have told you, but was I wrong in thinking you would not have come?”
Genie sighed. “Probably not. However, I would ask that you not be too eager about pairing me off. Just because I’m enjoying myself doesn’t mean I’m ready to marry again.”
“All right, but there are plenty of gentlemen to choose from. Sterling would be a good match. You don’t care that he doesn’t have a title, do you?”
“Of course not.”
Waving her hand, Cecilia said, “I didn’t think so.”
“It seems as though your matchmaking efforts will bear fruit. There are at least a pair or two, from what I’m hearing.” Genie didn’t like gossip, but in a party of this size, it was impossible to ignore comments that were made.
Cecilia clasped her hands together. “I do hope so! I’m wondering if I should make this an annual event. Why not?”
“Indeed, why not.” Genie arched a brow at her cousin. “Provided you make it clear to every guest what to expect.”
Laughing, Cecilia put her arm through Genie’s. “Yes, yes. Now, let us don our riding costumes and show everyone how well our grandfather insisted we learn to ride.”
Genie laughed with her, remembering their summers together at their grandfather’s estate. “Thank you for inviting me. I don’t regret coming.”
Nor did she regret visiting Edmund last night. It might have been better if she hadn’t, but Genie would forever be grateful that she did.
Chapter 8
Not even a brisk ride across Blickton’s extensive parkland had eased the frustration roiling inside Edmund. That Genie had apologized to him for what had happened last night rankled him horribly. He regretted nothing—there was nothing to apologize for.
Then he’d had to watch her laugh and smile with bloody Rotherham, who was far too good-looking than any man had a right to be, and with Sterling, who’d been trailing after her all week. It was enough to drive a man to drink. Or to surrender to his inner beast and snatch the fair damsel from her horse, then ride off with her into the wilds. The latter plan, despite its barbarity, held a tantalizing appeal.
Nevertheless, Edmund returned to the stable yard with the rest of the guests and then lingered with the gentlemen as the ladies made their way inside. He watched Genie go, her backside swaying, tempting him to reveal his inner savagery. He recalled sliding his hand beneath her as he’d feasted between her thighs, his fingers closing around her soft flesh, and began to grow hard.
Dammit.
He turned away, burying a scowl.
The men were discussing which women were the best riders. Mrs. Sheldon was far and away superior, but Genie and her cousin, their hostess, were both excellent. Poor Mrs. Wynne-Hargest had struggled, but Sir Nathaniel had been kind enough to lend her assistance. So much so that they were now rumored to be a pair. He demurred, refusing to confirm nor deny any attachment.
Cosford sent a sly look toward Rotherham. “I’d thought you might be fixated on Mrs. Dunthorpe, but after today, I think it might be the dowager duchess.”
Rotherham rolled his eyes. “Give it up, Cosford. No one is going to come out and say whom they’re sleeping with or courting or anything else.” There was a rousing chorus of agreement.
“Besides, it’s obvious Her Grace is interested in Sterling,” Howell said, elbowing Sterling, who stood beside him.
Edmund’s irritation reached a boiling point, and he strode from the group. Not toward the house, but back to the stable, where he intended to help put away the tack. When he was unsettled, he always turned to manual labor to relax and reset his equilibrium. Or sex.
Since he had no hope for the latter, he would take the labor.
At first, the grooms attempted to decline his offer of assistance, but he ultimately convinced them to let him stay. He removed his coat and threw himself into the work, enjoying every moment, including the camaraderie of the grooms and stable lads. It wasn’t terribly seemly for an earl to behave in this manner, but he didn’t care. His own stable men knew to expect him and indeed welcomed him.
After some time, he felt refreshed. He bid goodbye to the grooms, picked up