Lady Star (5 page)

The stallion nodded his head and his nostrils
flared. Star reached up to stroke his nose again, but he wouldn’t
look at her as he stared down the long drive. She shook her head
and asked, “What is it, young man? What has you so bothered?” She
sighed, “The season is over for you, as we don’t have any other
mares listed to be bred.” It was then, that she heard the clip-clop
of horseshoes hitting stones and her own attention returned to the
driveway.
“Faith!
Who can that be?”

Star saw the outline of two male riders
coming toward her and frowned as she tried to read their features.
All at once she realized…one was Jules and the other was his
friend, the man who had stopped her last evening when she had been
in disguise.

Oh no!
Dash it all. What now? Would he
recognize her? No, no, how could he? She had to calm herself. She
simply had to.

She stayed right where she was and put on a
welcoming smile. She would just have to brave it through.

* * *

“Wait till you clap eyes on her, Edward,”
Jules said with some liveliness. “Her hair is the color of…” He
sought in vain to find an adjective and sighed to call it, “spun
gold, but lighter in color…thick in texture.”

Sir Edward’s only interest was the fact that
he had a button in his pocket with the Berkley crest, the same at
the entrance of the Grange. He had a vague memory of a young lad as
well. All the rest Jules went on and on about had begun to bore him
and he said, “I think you have told me that once or twice already,
Jules.”

“Did I? Well, gold is not the right word. It
is nearly white…no…it is the color of cornsilk. That is the color!
Cornsilk with a hint of gold threaded throughout.”

“Cornsilk?” Edward said dubiously.

“Yes, yes, but so much lovelier and she wears
it short.
Actually,
it is shorter than what I like, but I
have imagined what it would look like draping down to her
waist.”

“How short does she wear it?” Edward was
momentarily diverted.

“Very… to her neck and swept back, most
odd…but there is never saying what a woman will get into her head
to do,” Jules answered thoughtfully.

Edward laughed, “You are an incurable
romantic and make me quite sick.”

Jules nearly stood in his stirrups with
sudden excitement, “Edward! Do but look…
she is there
…right
there…a goddess in blue.” He waved to her and called, “Miss
Berkley—ho there!”

Edward regarded his friend with astonishment.
He was acting like a lad not yet weaned, for mercy’s sake. As their
horses brought them closer, he surveyed the ‘goddess’ in question
and his eyebrows arched with surprise.

She certainly did not fit the picture his
friend had painted for him in his mind. He had imagined a dainty
flower and here was a rough and tumble girl sitting on a fence. He
frowned and considered her because what struck him almost at once
was that he had never before seen any other woman quite like Star
Berkley.

* * *

“Oh no—oh no. Why is Jules’ friend staring at
me like that? Does he suspect? No, how could he? He never saw my
face,” Star mumbled in dismay to her stallion who immediately
snorted a retort.

She looked herself over and chewed her bottom
lip unhappily for she was clothed in an old weathered blue gown
that had seen much better days and fit her a tad too tightly. In
addition to that, she was quite certain she smelled like the
stables for she had been helping Jeffries muck out a few stalls.
Dash it, dash it, dash it!

She liked Jules Stamford and she was feminine
enough to care about her appearance, even though she wasn’t sure
just how much she did like him.

His open admiration and light flirtation had
her confused. She found she enjoyed dallying with him and yet,
though it was flattering, she wasn’t sure how she felt and did not
wish to lead him on.

His wit and light conversation always set her
at ease and she enjoyed his visits, but she wished she was wearing
something a bit nicer. In addition to that, she was embarrassed and
worried all in one thought. She had to bluster it all off. and
please, she prayed, don’t let his friend look too closely at me!
Don’t let him realize I am the lad he accosted last evening. With
any good luck he probably was too bosky to remember.

She ran her hand through her flaxen locks,
pulled out hay and brushed out dust, sure that some grime must be
liberally plastered on her countenance. This was most unfortunate.
She took the hem of her gown, and swiped it over her face in hopes
of presenting a cleaner appearance. They were getting closer.
Nothing for it, but to brave it out, for the moment had come.

Jules Stamford was waving vigorously and she
could not pretend she hadn’t seen them.
Sit on your fence and
smile, Star
, she told herself.

“Hallo,” Jules waved and called again as he
approached and then as he was nearly by her side at the fence,
“Good God! Look at Choice. Isn’t he looking fit?”

“Indeed,” she agreed glancing at her stallion
and then back at Jules. Her eyes strayed to his companion who she
could see was looking at her from the top of her head to her booted
toes. She felt her cheeks get hot and told herself it was not
because he recognized her but probably because he was a libertine
that subjected all the ladies to such scrutiny. Her temper flared
and she took a moment to beat it down as she said, “He is fit
because Vern has been very diligent about riding him.” She released
a short laugh as she remembered the last ride she had on him. “Vern
must ride him, you see, for
I
won’t. He is too much horse
for me.”

“Who do you think you are trying to
bamboozle?” Jules returned on a snort. “You forget the first time I
saw you, you were taking Choice over that line fence.” He pointed
at the pasture rail in the distance.

She laughed. “No, Mr. Stamford.
Choice
took me
over the line fence, for I had no say in the matter. I
lived through that ride and when I dismounted and touched ground, I
thanked the heavens I was in one piece.”

She allowed her gaze to casually take in the
well-dressed man astride one of Jules’ hunters. He sat his horse
quietly to one side and for some inexplicable reason she trembled
when she thought of his touch last evening. Faith! He was staring
at her. How rude. She gave him an arched brow and instead of being
deterred, he grinned like a wayward boy.

She turned away from him a bit too quickly
and very nearly lost her balance on the rail. She became flushed as
she attempted to right herself, all the while Jules kept up a
steady stream of banter.

He was explaining to his friend that she had
a wonderful sense of humor and recounting yet another anecdote that
had taken place in town when he remembered his manners and said,
“Ah, but though I am sorry for it, good manners insist that I
introduce this fellow to you. My very good friend, Sir Edward,
allow me to introduce you to Miss Star Berkley.” He laughed and
added, “Pay him no mind though, Miss Berkley.” He smiled broadly in
his easy style. Star liked Jules Stamford but found she wasn’t sure
she liked his friend, Sir Edward.

Sir Edward merely did the perfunctory. She
could see he was not impressed with her. Well, why should he be?
Her hair was a mess. Her clothes were worse. She must look like a
hoyden. Why did she care if he was impressed with her? She didn’t,
but he needn’t be so obvious about it.

Her quick first observation of Sir Edward
decided her that he was what her brother would call a Corinthian,
pink of the ton, a top sawyer. Well, well, what did she care for
that? No doubt he thought a great deal of himself.

He tipped the beaver top hat borrowed from
Jules, and expressed in a tone of ennui, “Enchanted, Miss
Berkley.”

Sensitive to his obvious dismissal, she took
immediate affront, however, her sense of humor kicked in and she
answered, “Oh…
I can see that.”

She saw his eyes as they snapped with
interest and smiled to herself as she returned her attention to
Jules, “Do you come to visit poor Vern? I am afraid I left him
sleeping soundly. He has had such a bad night that I really do not
want to disturb him.” She bit her lower lip. Should she have said
that? Yes, indeed, why not?

“A bad night?” Jules offered with a frown. “I
am sorry to hear that.”

Sir Edward stuck in at this point, “Miss
Berkley…do you also have a younger brother?”

“No. Why?” She felt her body tremble.

Edward’s eyes narrowed as he answered, “Ah, I
bumped into someone who had your look.”

“Ah, perhaps a cousin,” she suggested. Anyone
who knew her well knew she and Vern had no cousins in the
vicinity.

“I am sorry to hear that Vern is still
unwell,” Jules stuck in. “I was hoping by now he would have
recovered.”

Relieved to get off the subject of cousins
she said almost too brightly, “He gave himself a setback by going
out before he was well enough. Stubborn man, for I warned him how
it would be.”

 “Indeed,” agreed Jules with a nod. “In
the short space of time since I have known him, I have encountered
his stubborn streak.” He grinned amiably to soften the words.

“Right,” she returned and went on. “I sent
poor old Jeffries out for the doctor yesterday in hopes of making
him stay put.”

“What did he say? What is wrong with your
brother?” This time the question came from Sir Edward making her
look sharply his way.

“Oh, as to that, Dr. Hayes said he suffers
from the quinsy and should be up and about by the end of the week.”
She could see Sir Edward considering her thoughtfully and felt a
moment’s uneasiness. He couldn’t have recognized her. Even if, as
he said, she looked familiar, he had seemed to accept that she
looked like her cousin. Hadn’t he accepted that? Her hand
fluttered, “Look at me going on in this fashion. I am sorry. Would
you like to accompany me to the house and take tea with me? I was
just about to go up.”

Jules exclaimed unabashedly, “Indeed, famous
good notion. Tea… we love tea, don’t we Edward?”

Edward eyed him dubiously and answered
ruefully, “Do we?”

“Yes, yes, of course we do,” Jules claimed,
his face bright with joy.

Star laughed, “I had not realized a simple
offer of tea could bring such delight.” Her smiled encompassed both
men as she brushed her hands together and said, “Right then, you
might as well leave your horses here…with our groom, Jeffries and
then come up to the house. I will just go ahead and see Cook about
refreshments.”

Star felt their eyes on her as she gracefully
as she could, jumped off the fence rail and started off. She sensed
them watching her and turned slightly to wave and found this was
true—they were both watching her and each wore a very different
expression from one another. Again wishing she was groomed and in a
finer gown, she hurried off.

* * *

Sir Edward eased himself out of his saddle as
his head was still threatening to spin. He turned to Jules who had
already dismounted and regarded him for a long moment before he
said, “So this is the lady fair who has won over your heart?” He
sounded even to himself incredulous.

The lady in question, he thought looked no
more than a child, though Jules had told him she was twenty.
Besides that, her manners were freely unaffected, something quite
out of the ordinary for ladies of fashion. Indeed, she could not be
called a lady of fashion, even country fashion. She was nothing
like the women Jules had been interested in over the years.

She was admittedly, quite a beauty. In fact,
she was a most unusual beauty to be sure. She dressed like a
servant and her hair was short, though its style became her piquant
face. In fact, if he admitted the truth, he found he rather liked
the way her flaxen locks were swept back away from her countenance.
He liked too the way her hair fell across her forehead. Yes, yes,
but she still was no more than a country miss. Her gown was old and
showed signs of wear and although its tight fit displayed her
provocative body to advantage, he was fairly certain she had been
helping her groom in the stables for she was covered with stray
strands of hay and floor dust.

No doubt the Berkley family had fallen on
difficult times and for no reason at all, this troubled him. She
didn’t appear to be interested in Jules’ status or wealth. In fact,
she didn’t appear interested at all.

She had been sitting on a post and rail
fence, of all things. Gently bred young women did not work in their
stables and did not sit on fence rails. So then, why did he find
her so intriguing?
He didn’t
. He was only surprised that
Jules did.

He looked around himself as they walked
toward the stable entrance and Jules rattled on about the chit at
great length.

He could see that everything was in a sad
state of disrepair and frowned over it. No doubt, brother and
sister were attempting to maintain their home by working it
themselves and he found that he admired her for that. She held
herself proudly, unashamed of circumstances beyond her control. He
did not want to be touched by this, but somehow he found that he
was.
Ah bah!
Maudlin thoughts would only serve to draw him
in where he did not wish to go.

However, the chit was remarkable. She had a
lively sense of humor, which he had detected earlier when she had
thrown out a sarcastic remark. She had noted that he appeared bored
and in her delicate way had called him out on it. He liked that.
Also to her credit were her dark eyes. They were exceptionally
large, almond shaped and thickly lashed. Dancing white lights were
alive with laughter in their dark depths and when she smiled. What
the hell was he doing? She was hardly a woman.

Still, she was twenty and she had a quiet
grace about herself. Not a long Peg and yet quite tall enough, but
she was, in spite of her lovely curves, too thin. What did Jules
want with an impish woman? Those sorts were always trouble. Besides
all that, why was he thinking about her? It was Jules that wanted
her and Jules was a grown man. It was not for him to worry
about.