The Tempestuous Debutante: Book 4 in the Cotillion Ball Series (Crimson Romance) (13 page)

BOOK: The Tempestuous Debutante: Book 4 in the Cotillion Ball Series (Crimson Romance)
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Alistair stood and walked to the bookshelves, to the portrait of his late wife. Catherine had been beautiful and all he ever wanted, and she was gone, because he’d gotten her with child. He’d never forgive himself. He sighed softly as he ran a finger down her painted cheek.

He had no plans to marry anytime soon, and put a woman into that precarious position again. No, Lydia would do quite nicely, since she merely wanted a suitable companion at various society functions and a decent lover in her bed. Alistair’s chest puffed out as he realized he was more than adequate on both counts.

His thoughts turned to Parr. He owed it to the Irish lad to make a go of their partnership, and to build his stable into something they could both be proud of. Hell, he owed Parr a lot more than a good future. But for now, that would be enough. Using Parr’s grey horse as a stud, they would soon host a barn full of thoroughbreds that would solidify their reputations in the racing community.

He loved the look of the new colt, Blaze. But the next colt, which would be the result of Grey and one of his mares, would be far superior to Blaze, and he couldn’t wait to get started. That was what was truly important. Matches between horses, rather than matches between men and women. He’d talk to Parr in the morning about it.

Chapter Fourteen

Parr turned from his work as footsteps signaled Alistair’s approach to the stable. They’d spent a long morning together, teaching a horse to break from the starting line at the sound of a gunshot without rearing up at the noise. He was now in the paddock with another of the horses, and a long lead rope. Even though the two-year-old was familiar with him, and welcomed his touch when they were in the stalls, being out in the open with the rambunctious stallion was a challenge. He had to learn to walk, trot, and canter on command, and the horse was wanting none of it. Parr welcomed the break and crossed to Alistair’s side.

“Top o’ the morning to you, Alistair.”

“Looks as if you’ve got your hands full there.”

Parr’s gaze moved back to the horse. “Aye, but he’s a beauty. ’Twill be a pleasure to get on his back.”

“Speaking of beauties, I wanted to talk to you about Grey. Let’s go into the stable and strategize over who we want to pair him with for our first joint venture.”

Parr’s heart began to race. This was the reason Alistair originally teamed up with him, and he was eager to get their partnership solidified. Together they moved into the warm barn. Parr took off his cap and ran his fingers through his dark hair. He brushed the gray tweed cap before he set it back on his head, simply so he could feel the richness of the fabric. Such a fine cap.

Alistair stood in the middle of the barn, in the large center aisle made of cobblestones, and drew in a deep breath. “I always enjoy the smells of a barn. Hay, horses, and dung. To me, it’s a better scent than any woman’s finest perfume.”

Parr smiled. “Now you know why I won’t take you up on your offer to move into the house.” He turned his back to Alistair as he ran a hand down the nearest horse, hoping Alistair wouldn’t notice his slight excited tremble. “I didn’t even ask you last night how your evening with Miss Fitzpatrick went. Did you have a good time?”

Alistair gave him a quick glance. “Yes, I did, but she’s no Lydia Smith.”

Parr shrugged and released a slow breath. “Maybe she’s not got the same manner that Mrs. Smith does, but she’s a lovely woman all the same.”

Alistair clamped his hand on Parr’s shoulder as he laughed. “No, she’s definitely not in the same manner as Mrs. Smith, but you’re right. She’s a lovely young, impetuous woman. I enjoy her company, especially when she starts talking about her business plans.”

“And what is she saying about her business plans?”

Alistair smiled. “She plans to draw and quarter that poor French cobbler who stole her boot design.”

Parr grinned. “Ah, good on her.”

“And it’s my understanding that you helped her with that design. Is that correct?”

“The first one she drew, aye. After that, though, they were all her own. I merely pointed out a few things that were essential in any riding boot.”

“Well, possibly after her business takes off, we should approach her about some kind of fee to be paid to you, since you gave her sound, practical advice. She owes you that, at least.”

Parr took a step away from Alistair before he replied. “No, the girl owes me naught.” He brought his eyes back to Alistair. “So, I take it you’ll be seeing her agin?”

“Yes. In fact, she is coming out here to go riding with me tomorrow. She’ll do nicely until Lydia returns from Virginia. But I digress. Let’s talk horses instead of women.”

Parr raced to his quarters to get the breeding book. Aye, talk of horses was far better than talk of Jasmine filling in for Mrs. Smith. Especially since Parr had little doubt how Alistair and Mrs. Smith passed their time together. He turned and began to walk down the aisle of the barn, looking at each horse.

“I was thinking that the chestnut mare, Dolly, would be a good match for Grey. Let me show you why.”

Together, they walked toward the horse, all thoughts of Jasmine left behind. At least, Parr hoped, that was the case with Alistair. As for himself, she had not been far from his thoughts since the day they met.

• • •

Charlotte placed the long list of items to be purchased back in her reticule with a sigh. “I need to stop at the closest tea room and sit for a few minutes, Jasmine. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“But isn’t it exciting, Mother? I mean, in all the years we’ve been shopping together, we’ve never come to the warehouse district before. All these wonderful treasures were under our noses all this time, and we didn’t even know it. Have you ever seen such an assortment of beads in your life?” She ran her hand through a bin of red glass beads as she talked. “Thank God for Blake’s suggestions. But all right, let’s take a break.”

As they ordered their tea, Charlotte turned to the window, where she spied the carriage with all their purchases piling up inside. Robert, the groomsman, was patiently waiting for them, and guarding all the goods. She faced her daughter.

“While I appreciate you spending some time with me, dear, this shopping excursion is exhausting, to say the least. You’ve been working so diligently with Colleen, and you two have your heads together constantly as you discuss this new venture of yours. I must admit I’ve been a bit jealous of how close you’ve become. I haven’t had much of a chance to talk strategy with you about the viscount. What are your plans?”

Jasmine waited to answer as the tea and scones were served.

Charlotte poured the aromatic liquid into graceful china cups. She took a sip. “Ah, Grey’s Tea. My new favorite.” She turned her attention back to her daughter. “So?”

“My new business is a part of my grand scheme, Mother. Alistair appreciates a woman with a strong mind, one who can follow his line of thought when he discusses business, so what better way to win his admiration than to set up my own company? Already, he’s taken a keen interest in what I have planned. And once you and I finish buying all the adornments that we need for the shop, Colleen and I can begin setting up the space the way we want it. We should be ready for business within a couple of days. All my friends are asking when they can come and visit.”

“You don’t think it will be too much of a distraction for you? After all, the time you are spending to get the shop going could be time better spent with Alistair.”

Jasmine laughed. “He might be aristocratic, but he is not part of the idle rich, Mother. It takes a lot of time to get his horses ready to race, and to oversee the building of the racetrack. In fact, he told me at the end of last evening, he would have enjoyed the offered nightcap at our house, but he and Parr were getting up at dawn to work with a horse.”

“So when are you to see each other next?”

“Colleen will take me out to the ranch the day after tomorrow and Alistair and I will go for a ride before I come back to town and open the shop. Would it be all right if I steal the big worktable from the nursery to use? No one’s been in the nursery lately.”

Charlotte reached across the table and took her daughter’s hand. “Of course, dear, you can take whatever you need from the house. But I’m counting on you to not lose sight of your primary objective. You need to get Alistair to fall to one knee within a month, and fill my nursery with grandbabies.”

Jasmine’s color rose as Charlotte made known her desires for her daughter. Charlotte caught the movement as Jasmine squirmed in her seat, and patted her hand. “Am I making you uncomfortable? Of all people, you know what is expected of a woman once she weds, do you not?”

Jasmine dropped her gaze to the tablecloth. “Well, I do like to flirt with men, true. I’m certainly no stranger to gaining a man’s attention. But how do you know if the man is right for you? When Papa kisses you, do you feel a current between you, or is it merely pleasant?”

Charlotte removed her hand from Jasmine’s and placed it on her chest. “Your father is still able to make my heart flutter, indeed. Ours has been a love match since the day we met. But other relationships begin slowly and build over time. Has Alistair kissed you yet?”

Again, Jasmine’s cheeks filled with color. “He has not even made an attempt, despite my coquetry.”

“Well, see how things are after he does. But remember, above all else, the man has a title. That should be enough to create a spark between you.”

“True enough, Mother. But I think perhaps maybe playing a little hard to get is in order, too. After all, I’ve been eagerly accepting every offer he’s made to spend time with me. Perhaps I should not be so eager?”

Charlotte picked up her teacup and took a swallow of the now-tepid liquid. She then set the cup down and blotted her lips with her napkin. “That’s not a bad idea, Jasmine. I think you should show up as scheduled for your ride, but tell him you must leave before he gets too cozy. Yes, it’s a good plan. You should leave him wanting more of you.”

Clapping her hands together, Charlotte stood up. “We have our work cut out for us. Let’s finish up with your shopping now, so we can focus on Alistair Wickersham.”

• • •

Jasmine and her mother spent the better part of the afternoon completing the purchases from the list. They had bought yards of lace, tulle, fringe in all colors, beads and seed pearls, silk rosettes, and ribbon — so much ribbon. They methodically ticked items off the extensive list that Charlotte carried.

But beyond the shopping there was an excitement in the air in the warehouse district that Jasmine had not encountered before. Strange sounds and the voices of many nationalities rang out over the cobblestones. She found it exhilarating, and dreamily began to plan for a return trip to restock her supplies.

“For the love of God, man, watch what you’ll be doin’,” a man’s Irish brogue knifed its way into her consciousness.

“Parr!” she whispered as she glanced around, looking for him. She spied a man of about the same stature as Parr, with black hair, across the street from their parked carriage. He and another man were carrying a large wooden box to an open cart. They tossed the box onto the cart and the man turned around, wiping off his hands.

It wasn’t Parr, but rather a much older man. And as Irish as the day was long, from the sounds of him. Jasmine listened to his thick brogue for a few more seconds, with a smile on her face. Then she rubbed a hand over her chest and turned away.

“What is it, dearie?” Charlotte glanced at her daughter as they settled themselves into the carriage. “Your face just lost all its color.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, Mother,” Jasmine replied as she sat back against the squabs of the cushioned seat back. “Just a long day, that’s all.”

“I should say so.” Charlotte squeezed herself into the seat opposite Jasmine. “With all these packages, there’s barely enough room for the two of us. But it has been fun, hasn’t it?” She reached across the carriage to take Jasmine’s hand in her own. “It was not my decision to deny you new gowns this year, but your father was adamant. I miss our shopping excursions as much as you do. Today reminded me of those fun times we had together a year ago, getting you and Heather ready for the season.”

“I miss them too, Mother. But if Papa hadn’t put his foot down, I’m certain I never would have given a thought to opening my own shop and designing dresses for anyone other than myself. So, in a way, I’m glad we’re going through a rough time, financially. Plus, he never would have considered a partner outside the family if things were going well, so we might never have met Alistair.”

Charlotte sighed. “Yes, I guess that’s all true. Life was certainly simpler a few years ago.”

“But it’s so much more exciting now, don’t you think?”

“In a way. We’re rubbing elbows with English aristocracy at every turn, there’s going to be a new racetrack soon that will be upscale enough to appeal to our crowd, and my daughter will soon be a viscountess. Yes, you’re right. Life is much more exciting than it used to be.”

The jolt of sensation that shot through her body when she heard the brogue in the warehouse district came back to her. Yes, life was more exciting now. It was just the wrong man who incited her.

Chapter Fifteen

Jasmine and Colleen worked side by side the following day, taking all the purchases from the warehouse and assembling them into some kind of order in their half of Blake Morgan’s shop. Finally, Jasmine admitted the store was ready for business, and reluctantly began the walk home, not wanting to let go of the glow of the day.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts before she turned to her companion. “I’m sorry, Colleen. I was just thinking about how pleasant today has been. What did you ask?”

“I wanted to know how we’re to plan tomorrow. You have a ride scheduled with Mr. Wickersham in the morning, but we have to be back at the shop for its grand opening. How will that work?”

“It will be fine. We’ll just take a short ride. Long enough for him to notice my newly embellished riding attire, but not so long that he’ll be tempted to try to get me out of it.”

BOOK: The Tempestuous Debutante: Book 4 in the Cotillion Ball Series (Crimson Romance)
3.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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