A Portrait of Love (The Academy of Love #3) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,32
away, his face heating from the other man’s praise. He couldn’t think of a man he respected more than Wilkins. Well, except for his brother. No matter how much he hated Wyndham at times, he respected him.
Wilkins was one of the best horse trainers in Britain. He’d been a groom back when Simon’s father had still been alive and was only a few years older than Simon. The two of them had been as thick as thieves once, drawn to each other through their mutual love of horses. It had always been Simon’s plan to poach Wilkins from the duke’s household when he took up residence at Everley.
He snorted, brushing his forearm over his sweating brow. That dream was still as far out of grasp as it ever was, thanks to Wyndham.
“I’ll release your inheritance when you marry or turn five-and-thirty.” His brother had said in his cold, implacable way the last time they’d fought. Well, the last time Simon had fought. Wyndham never fought. Never raised his voice. Never got angry. Never let even one emotion slip from his viselike grasp—not even when Edward died.
“Er, Simon?”
Simon turned at the sound of Raymond’s voice and found the man only a few steps behind him. He hadn’t even realized that Raymond had followed him.
“Yes?” he asked, once again needing to rein in his impatience. Simon tried not to be cruel to his cousin, but Raymond, with his cringing, fawning ways made it difficult.
He’d lived with Simon’s family since he was five—ever since Simon’s father had brought him to Whitcomb. Although Raymond had never mentioned his past, Simon knew his cousin had been living in squalor when the old duke had learned of the existence of his youngest brother’s only child.
“Er, I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to Lindthorpe. His grace wants an assessment of the stables there and I thought you might be able to give me your opinion?” Raymond asked.
“Lord, Raymond—why don’t you just call him Wyndham? I’ve heard him tell you to do so a thousand times.”
Raymond shrugged, his expression the strangely dogged one that always made Simon feel bad for snapping at him.
He heaved a sigh and stared at his cousin, absently smoothing his worn leather gloves as he considered the invitation.
Lindthorpe was a good-sized property that Wyndham had recently purchased. It was only about an hour or so away from Whitcomb and Simon was a bit of curious about the place. It was old—built during the early Tudor period—and had belonged to the Earl of Templeton’s family for generations. Simon knew the earl had gotten into hot water with poor investments and had needed to sell the ancient estate.
“Did my brother put you up to inviting me, Raymond?” he asked, smiling sardonically at the shorter man.
“No. The duke was to accompany me, but he’s not—” Raymond grimaced. “He’s not feeling well.”
Simon frowned. “Lord—again? Is it the same thing? His stomach?”
“I believe so. You’d have to talk to the doctor, who just arrived a while ago.”
The small hairs on Simon’s neck lifted at this news. “Good God—as bad as that? I should probably go to him and—”
“Now is not a good time,” Raymond said. “In fact, his grace told me to ask you to stop by at half past three.”
Simon nodded. “Very well.”
“It was not the duke who suggested you accompany me; it was my idea. I’d like you to look at the stables and advise me as to what should be done.”
When Simon didn’t immediately answer, Raymond added. “I’d like your company, Simon. It has been a long time since we’ve spent much time together. Well, other than drinking down at The George.”
Simon opened his mouth to make an excuse but then saw the same yearning and admiration on Raymond’s face that he had seen ever since his cousin had come to live with them, a lonely orphan a year Simon’s senior. Even though Raymond had been older, he’d always behaved like a younger relative, following Simon around like a besotted puppy.
“All right. Thank you,” he added, feeling like an arse at how thrilled Raymond looked at his grudging courtesy.
“I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Simon left Raymond to his business and headed toward the house. He came out from under the big stone arch just in time to see the flash of a familiar navy-blue cloak disappear behind the rose hedge.
Simon strode off in her direction. Why not? He had two hours to wait before he could go see Wyndham.