The Lodestone Read Free Page A

caught up with her as she rode into the expansive yard of an imposing manor house, reined in her horse and slid gracefully from his back. Taking no heed of the footmen who came to assist her, she ran towards the rear of the house, her bare feet kicking up puffs of dust.
    “What a horse,” Drake murmured, smiling with appreciation while the back of his mind whispered, What a woman! Who was so careless, he wondered, to allow such a beauty to gallop over the landscape like that, with no thought to her safety or reputation.
    As he came around the side of the house, Drake had to pull Prince Talleyrand up short to keep from riding over the girl. She stood firm, her hands on trim but well-formed hips, and confronted the head groom who had stepped in front of her, blocking her way to the stables. “Tell your master that William Desmond’s granddaughter has come for the mare,” she said in a tone that would indulge no nonsense.
    “Aye, Miss Cleome. She’s here,” the groom responded with a jerk of his thumb to indicate the stables behind him. “Lucky for her we got to ’em in time. If Major Domo had mated her again, she would have been done for, she would.”
    “Not while there’s breath in my body!” the lovely Cleome declared, and Drake smiled, enjoying the sight of a pretty lass so ready to do battle for her horse. As the side door of the elegant mansion sprang open, she spun around to face a gentleman of at least threescore and five. He stormed across the marble patio and into the yard, heading straight toward the startled girl. Drake could tell by the set of his mouth and crimson blaze of his complexion that he was furious. Cleome’s groom and his pony cart were nowhere to be seen as yet, so Drake quickly dismounted. It appeared the enchanting equestrienne would be in need of assistance, which he would be happy to give.
    “It will not be necessary to tell the master anything,” the old gentleman said gruffly. “For he is standing here before you.”
    She froze, her face blanched as white as the king’s new linen. But then she took a deep breath and walked over to the gentleman with what Drake considered an admirable display of courage for one so small, and a woman at that.
    “I have come for my horse,” she said stoutly.
    “I’ve warned William Desmond repeatedly about that mare,” the man informed her in a pompous, nasal voice. “If it happens again, I swear I shall teach her with my own whip to mind her manners.”
    “But Lord Easton,” Cleome reasoned. “Your groom has told me no harm was done. And even so, we are quite prepared to care for any result, as we did the last time.”
    “My dear young woman,” his lordship snapped. “I would prefer that Major Domo save his—” here he paused a moment in deference to Cleome’s delicate sex. “Ah—save his strength for a thoroughbred.”
    Color flooded Cleome’s face and anger flashed in her blue eyes and she replied quietly, “Please believe, milord, that I would prefer the same for my mare!”
    It was all the footmen and groom could do to contain their mirth at such effrontery, but stifle it they did. Lord Easton’s eyebrows shot up in surprise that this slip of a girl would address him with such disrespect—and that she would also hurl such an insult upon his horse. He spluttered in vexation, at a complete loss for words.
    Drake leaned against his horse, thoroughly enjoying the entertainment. The young beauty didn’t seem to need his aid after all. The door was again thrown open and manly laughter rang out behind Lord Easton and the girl. A handsome youth strode into the yard, grinning broadly. He was dressed in an elaborate riding costume and he cut a fine figure with his thin, wiry frame and his golden curls. He seemed quite as amused by the situation as Drake was.
    “I say, Father,” he quipped brightly, smiling and aiming every ounce of his charm at Cleome. “It hardly seems honorable to whip a lady merely for following the dictates of