Greyley,

After careful thought, I realize that we cannot continue our rides. However, the children are more than eager for the exercise and thus await your pleasure once the weather has cleared.

Sincerely,
A. Thraxton

Anthony wadded up the note and sent it sailing toward the fireplace. Damn the woman. He returned to knotting his cravat, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. Anna Thraxton was not making his quest easy and it didn’t surprise him the least bit.

What was it about her, he wondered, absently noting the St. John talisman ring where it sat neglected among the fobs on his dresser. He pushed the ring aside and selected a ruby cravat pin. Perhaps it was the challenge of the chase—he hadn’t been so amused in some time.

Just being with her made him feel…He shrugged. It was the excitement of something new, something different from the ordinary. Something to be savored, for it would not last long.

Ignoring Ledbetter’s plea to wear a more significant pin on his cravat, Anthony left his room and made his way to the library. Mr. Dalmapple awaited him there, a list of pressing decisions carefully scripted on a neat sheet of vellum.

Anthony listened to his man of business with half an ear, his gaze fixed on the streams of rain that cut across the library windows. He rubbed his mouth thoughtfully, smiling a little to himself. All he had to do was find a way to get her alone again.

Going to the nursery was cut of the question. Somehow, some way, he had to get the lovely Miss Thraxton to come to him.

Excitement stirred in his stomach and quickened his blood. What would tempt a woman bent on remaining within the strict boundaries of propriety? What would lure her from the safety of the nursery?

Perhaps…perhaps a simple game of billiards. What could be more innocent? For an instant, he imagined the sight of Thraxton’s pale skin against the green felt of the table, her auburn hair splayed like a fan about her face. Hell, nothing was innocent with a woman like her around. Still…the word “billiards” would conjure no such indecent thoughts in a woman with such strenuous notions of propriety.

Grinning, Anthony reached for a sheet of vellum. He ignored Dalmapple’s running commentary on the state of the west fields and dipped his pen in ink.

Thraxton, he wrote with a nice flourish.

I hope this note finds you well and none the worse for yesterday’s—

Anthony paused. Yesterday’s what? Sensual kisses? Forbidden touches? He chuckled and then wrote:

—vigorous activities. As the rain appears to have ended our hopes for a ride, a game of billiards will have to do as a substitute. I will be in the billiards room at ten. I trust you will be there when I arrive.

Yours,
Greyley

He silently reread the letter. Dalmapple had by this time noticed his inattendance and was now morosely scribbling in his account books, casting dark glances his way.