When Kilner returned to serve The Dowager Countess of Hampton, Jane Kerrich, the earl instructed him to ready the private coach for the day's outing. A whole day! I should carry a bottle of brandy.

The countess was tenacious, headstrong and thought she was the head of Hampton , everybody let her, including Braeden. He loved his grandmother and she knew it well and took advantage of the fact. When his patience allowed, he allowed her to treat him like he was still only twelve summers old. She was sixty years into her dish and still strong as an ox. She had become both mother and father to Braeden when his loving parents died in a fatal carriage accident.

His grandmère taught him everything he knew. How to be a gentlemen. How to lavish a gentle lady with care as if she was a rosebud, though he did not always follow that advice strictly. She had even give him the talk at age fourteen. She had hired prestigious gentlemen of the ton to take him through the ropes at Whites, Almack's and game hunting. By the time Braeden was eighteen summers old, he was a strapping, well build, sought after gentleman in every mother's invitation list. It had not stopped to this day when he was currently eight and twenty.

It was an open secret to every staff member that Jane Braeden loved her grandson, but she never openly displayed it. She was proud too of Braeden's prosperity in his own right. Braeden was wealthy. He rented horses, carriages, chaises, many of his property and made lucrative income for his estate through various streams of income.

Braeden would inherit a staggering amount of wealth and countless more properties from Jane Braeden when he took to wife. An earl with lavish tastes as him, could not have too much wealth. And it was proper for a titled gentleman of the beau monde to take a wife and produce heirs for the continuity and success of the earldom. Yet it rankled him to no end to have his grandmother harp on it time and time again. He will choose a countess for himself when he was good and ready not when she dictated and he was not ready now! So why was the image of a sultry blond with the most fine blue eyes burning up inside him? Furious even with himself he shoved his chair back in the most ungentlemanly manner.

'I hope Braeden when we make calls today, you will finally select a wife,' Jane warned. She rattled off a list of names, too many to mention. The thought of seeing some of those maidens left a foul taste in his mouth. 'They are well bred and come with impressive dowries.'

Braeden glared at his grandmother in what he hoped was his most fearsome scowl. 'We are not buying horseflesh grandmère. I will not be rushed.'

'I am at the end of my tether with you lad!' You made the same excuses last year and the year before. I should just give away your inheritance,' she threatened.

Braeden stood up angrily. 'Hand my parents wealth and my inheritance back to the crown, if you must,' he responded indifferently. You will not force my hand.'

Yet silently Braeden knew he would defer to her command. He would never want to see disappointment in his dear grandmère's eyes. He had not seen it once in his eight and twenty years. He was a responsible earl. He knew his God given duty. He never shirked his duty.

'I will be waiting for you in the coach,' he stormed out.

Lady Fulham was escorting both her daughters to the modiste on High Street when Emma decided to engage her subdued younger sister in conversation.

'So did anybody take your fancy last night? Emma enquired of Fallon.

Fallon tried to banish the dark brooding eyes and the almost successful lips from her mind but it seemed to be a hard task, but she was determined to wipe him off her slate.

'No,' she lied and you?'

'No,' Emma quickly denied even when unladylike thoughts of the admirable Viscount Thumpston, Arthur Burward consumed her thoughts. Her cheeks warmed at a smiling image of the viscount. . 'I am eagerly looking forward to the opera on Saturday though.'

Of course you are! 'How delightful.' Fallon patronized unsuspectingly

Emma cast her eyes at her sister curiously. 'Are you not? You love the opera.'

'You have a partner, I do not,' Fallon bit out.

'Do not be troubled about that dear. You will have one,' Lady Fulham smiled.

When the carriage stopped and the groom was assisting them out, Fallon was pleased when they bumped into the Viscount Thumpston Lord Arthur Burward. Though he looked dashing in his fine about town clothes, he was not Braeden. Still when Fallon greeted him warmly she whispered in his ear. 'Take me riding this afternoon.'

Swallowing at her impertinence,' he was gentleman enough to school his expression. This was a conundrum. He liked Emma. What would she think? He did not want to hurt her feelings. From the look in Fallon's eyes, it seemed she wanted to escape her family for the afternoon. He knew the younger Fulham daughter nurtured a rebellious spirit, yet he truly liked her. She was a good sport, excellent company and fun to be with most times.

'Are here comes Lord Hampton,' Lady Fulham had her back turned on Burward.

Fallon and Emma also turned to look at the new comer. Burward quickly touched Emma. She gasped.

'I am inviting your sister to go riding, but think nothing of it. All is well with you and I,' he quickly whispered into her ear.

Emma's eyes had momentarily saddened, but in the end she was comforted by his assertion.

'Okay,' she whispered back.

'Lady Fulham, may I take Lady Fallon riding this afternoon?'

Lady Fulham returned her gaze to the gentleman at her side. She smiled, cast a quick satisfied look in Fallon's direction and responded. 'Yes of course.'

It is not what you think mama. He does not look at me the way Braeden looks at Emma.

'Good afternoon everybody,' Braeden smiled courteously.

'Hampton what brings you out?' Burward laughed, shaking hands cordially.

'Grandma is paying calls,' he sent a pained look in Burward's direction.

Burward's eyes crinkled with amusement. He knew exactly what that meant. 'You must be enjoying it immensely,' Burward teased.

Braeden cast a scathing look towards Burward and ignored him. 'Ladies are you enjoying your afternoon?' He smiled at each one of them, but waited until the last to look at Fallon and held her gaze for longer than she liked.

'Lovely, thank you,' Fallon smiled, though it did not reach her eyes.

'You are done with the calling them?' Lady Fulham enquired.

I wish! 'Grandma is at the millinery shop. She needs a new bonnet,' he smiled. 'I shall join her shortly.'

'Perhaps you are satisfied and won't be making more calls?' Burward needled his friend.

'Would you like to join grandma and I?' Braeden challenged.

'Hmm, such a pity I have plans,' Burward pretended to sound regretful. He tipped his hat. 'Ladies,' he bowed courteously and departed.

'Lady Fulham, may I have the pleasure of escorting Lady Fallon for a drive this afternoon?'

'I do have plans today and the rest of the week,' Fallon snapped before her mother could respond.

'Fallon!' Both her mother and Lady Emma chastised simultaneously.

'Did you not just consent mama, to Viscount Thumpston taking me riding this afternoon?'

'Yes, I did Fallon,' her mother's voice was apologetic as she looked at Braeden, 'but there was no need for you to speak out of hand,' she reproved.

Fallon was certain she would get more than a earful from her mother when they returned home.

'I was just informing ___ him,' she would not even look Braeden in the eye. Why does he need to take me riding when clearly his eye is set on Emma?

'Perhaps another time?' Braeden tipped his hat. 'Good afternoon ladies. Lovely seeing you again,' he smiled and disappeared.

Fallon hurriedly dressed into her riding habit, as soon as they arrived home but not before Lady Fulham duly took her younger daughter to task for her most unladylike manner towards Earl Hampton. Fallon apologized profusely, knowing, if she didn't she may not have the pleasure of going out riding.

She waited impatiently as Burward set his carriage towards the hills. Fallon loved riding in the open. When they got a fair distance his groom unhitched his horses and Fallon hastily hopped onto one, without any assistance.

'Race you to the lake,' she yelled over her shoulder, before Burward could get onto his horse after attempting to help her.

She sped along perfectly at ease on the mare. The wind blew into her face. Her bonnet tipped off her head, but the bow kept it flapping at her back. Fallon was a good few lengths ahead of Burward and laughed happily. This was freedom. This was what she was born to do, to ride into the sun and be as a free as a bird. Not calling on boring old ladies and visiting the modiste. She hated even more, the same company they always met at Almack's. So far in dreamland was she, she had not even heard Burward closing in behind her and piped her to the tree near the lake.

'You beat me!' She laughed.

'And nobody to witness,' he laughed.

Fallon hopped off her horse before Burward could help her and threw herself excitedly on the ground.

'I love it here Arthur,' she smiled. She called him that when they were alone.

He laughed as he took the saddles off their horses. 'You were meant to be a free spirit,' he grinned, dropping next to her.

'It is so peaceful and free under the skies...unlike at home,' she moaned.

'You are too rebellious my fair lady,' he laughed.

Fallon turned her head, a naughty grin on her face as she looked at Burward.

'Would you like to kiss me then?'

'What the deuce! Of course not?' he stood up hastily, besides my groom is watching. Not__ that I would do that anyway.'

'What is the matter Arthur? Not experienced enough? I am,' she lied.

'Would you stop Fallon? This is preposterous!'

'Just having some fun my lord,' she teased sarcastically. 'I love it when you get all worked up.'

Arthur whistled and his groom came marching with a tiny basket.

'Oh what do we have there?' Fallon smiled excitedly.

'Some sandwiches and drinks,' Burward smiled. Fallon's earlier misgivings seemed to be forgotten.

Fallon hastily retrieved the basket from the groom. She dipped her head into it and found dainty triangle sandwiches with cheese, honey and cucumber. To her delight, there were little seed biscuits included. She offered Burward a sandwich and bit into a biscuit. She sat down again on the grass and Burward followed suit.

'Thank you Burward,' she grinned. 'How did you know I would be hungry?'

'You are always hungry Fallon,' he smiled, though where she hid all the excess pounds he could not tell.

I wonder what Braeden is doing at this moment. Is he having a picnic with somebody as well?

Fallon shifted her errant thoughts. She lowered herself on the grass. She was lying on her back staring into space. Burward was a wonderful friend, but he was too much of a gentleman for her. She would walk circles around him and be bored with him in a week. She needed a gentleman who would stand up to her, challenge her and draw out the passion ready to erupt inside her. She knew exactly who could do that. Fallon quickly cast her wilful thoughts away from Braeden.

'Have you finished everything, you greedy oaf?' Fallon pulled the basket out of Burward's hands.

'Just about,' he answered with his mouth full.

There was just one sandwich left when Fallon retrieved the basket. In all fairness there had not been that many to start with. 'No biscuits for you,' Fallon narrowed accusing eyes at Burward.

'I will trade you a biscuit for some lemonade,' Burward smiled boyishly.

'Done,' she smiled, handing him the basket back, but not before she grabbed the single remaining sandwich.

Burward laughed and lay back on the grass just as Fallon had earlier done. He watched Fallon as she thirstily sipped on the lemonade. She was companionable and pleasurable to be with as any of his peers were, but it was Lady Emma, that stirred his loins. Her refined manner of speaking entranced him. Though in fairness, Lady Fallon possessed that same refinement as well but only presented it when absolutely necessary, mostly in the presence of her watchful parents. Indeed it was her gentle elder sister that made his heart race like one of his thoroughbreds. He liked Lady Emma's calm demeanour. She was fair, with bright doe eyes. He liked that Emma always knew her place as a lady, whereas Fallon was most unpredictable.

'Fallon, you have been gone so long!' Her mother chastised. 'Almost three hours.'

Was it that long? Fallon smiled inwardly. It seemed like a mere few minutes.

'You consented to me going riding with Lord Burward, mama,' she reminded her mother, a trifle annoyed.

'Do get out of your riding habit dear,' her mother instructed in a strained voice. 'The Duke of Baxendale has been patiently awaiting your return.'

Chilton Wentworth, Duke of Baxendale was here without invitation, in their sitting room? Fallon cringed silently. Just the thought of him sent a cold shiver down her spine. His mother had christened him well. At six and thirty, nature had added more years to the duke's face. Balding at an accelerated rate, and with prominent crow feet eyes, he looked ten years older.

'But you and Emma are here mama,' Fallon did not see the need to fall at His Grace's feet as well. From the periphery Fallon could see Emma was at pains to keep the duke company. Emma kept sending a beseeching look towards Fallon and Burward who was standing just behind Fallon.

'Fallon Brightmore!' Lady Fulham exclaimed threateningly.

'Yes mama.' Weary of being in disaccord with her parent, Fallon hastily went upstairs to her chamber to change into a suitable afternoon dress, respectable enough to receive His Grace.

'Do join us for tea Lord Burward,' Lady Fulham invited Arthur in.

'Thank you my lady,' Burward accepted the invitation, hiding his pleasure.

'Lady Emma, good afternoon,' Burward smiled. He deferred rank, greeting his lady love first.

'Good afternoon, my lord,' Emma greeted formally.

Her heart sank heavily. There were blades of grass in Burward's hair. Fallon's riding dress was creased more than was normal from just riding and they had been out for far too longer.

'Your Grace,' disappointment swelled through Burward, he turned to the duke and greeted him when Emma did not seem to want to exhibit much attention his way.

'Burward,' the duke smiled, extending a hand in greeting.

Tea was served. Burward would have taken pleasure in the vacant seat next to Emma, but he reluctantly desisted, instead opting for the single seater, facing Emma.

'Thank you Lady Emma,' he looked up into her eyes when she courteously offered him a plate of cream scones and lemon biscuits, but her eyes were focused on the plate she was holding. Sometimes Burward wished Emma possessed a certain amount of Fallon's recklessness...just a tad.

'Your Grace, good afternoon,' Fallon entered the sitting room in an attractive light blue afternoon dress. It complimented her blonde hair. Her face was freshly washed, and it still had a crimson tinge from her being in the sun all afternoon.

The duke and Burward rose to their feet.

'Good afternoon Lady Fallon,' the duke smiled brightly. 'May I say, you look quite lovely,' he liked how the dress complimented her expressive blue eyes and her beautiful hair. A matching blue ribbon was used as accessory atop her head to hold her smooth shiny hair in place.

As Fallon walked in and was in conversation with the duke, Burward used the opportunity to shift seats taking the one next to Emma. Lady Fulham re-entered and took the single seater. Fallon looked around the room and saw all the seats taken. Somewhat annoyed, she was compelled to take the only vacant seat next to the duke. The smile on the duke's face brightened, evident pleasure displayed on his face.

'My apologies for keeping you waiting your grace,' Fallon hollowed out deep to extract the good manners instilled in her.

'Lady Fulham and Lady Emma have been most hospitable,' his false compliments dripped with honey.

'May I serve you more tea?' Fallon offered, she was loathe to enter into any conversation with the lecher. Especially since his eyes kept dipping to her bosom, only slightly visible at the v of her gown. He cannot be a sex starved man. Whilst he was decidedly lacking in physical attributes, his excessive wealth allowed him the enviable pleasure of keeping three mistresses. The duke may think his associations were discreet but his dalliances were freely discussed in the haute ton.

'That will be lovely my lady,' The Duke of Baxendale handed his empty cup to Fallon.

'I will arrange it,' Lady Fulham walked away to ring for a maid.

'If you have set your cap on me, I am not interested,' Fallon murmured to the duke.

He was not surprised at her forthrightness. Infact everything about the spirited lady attracted him. 'I am a wealthy man Lady Fallon,' you will want for nothing.'

She knew just about every maiden in the ton would leap at the opportunity to become a duchess. But in all honesty Fallon could not bear the thought of the duke's detestable hands on her body. She shivered involuntarily. She wanted to marry for love, if she could find it; not for money or position. Not for the first time that day, an image of a dark smouldering rake invaded her thoughts.

'Then offer for Lady Emma,' Fallon hissed. She is fair and the kind of gentlewoman more suitable to be your duchess.'

'It is you I desire Fallon and you know it well,' his lowered voice was for her ears only.

'I will decline your offer, if you approach papa,' she threatened, silently hoping he would not call her bluff. Fallon knew if the unsightly duke who came from a prominent and wealthy dukedom, did make an offer for her, her parents would inveigle her into accepting the offer. Members of the peerage hardly married for love. Wealth and position often took precedence and most women conducted discreet liaisons after they produced a heir.

'I do look forward to our evening at the opera,' Burward murmured to Emma.

'Oh, is that still on?' Emma was uninterested anymore.

'But of course! Did you not already agree to accompany me?'

Emma did not answer him. 'Why do you have blades of grass on your hair, my lord?'

Burward smiled. 'Lady Fallon does sap a man's strength,' he innocently tugged at the wrong side of his hair.

'I beg your pardon!' Emma kept her voice low. Burward's eyes shot across to Emma.

'Oh that came out wrong my lady,' he shook his head. Emma raised her eyebrows in confusion. She was trying desperately not to cry.

'Lady Fallon challenged me to a race. I finally beat her,' he grinned. 'We were having some refreshments and I was lying on the grass,' he smiled into Emma's eyes. 'Have no fear my dear lady,' he whispered, 'my groom was in attendance.'

The weight lifted off Emma's shoulders. She returned Burward's smile. 'Actually the grass is on the other side,' she reached up and quickly removed the offending grass before Fallon and the duke noticed.

'Thank you my lady,' Burward murmured.

Emma swooned. She liked Burward calling her his lady, as if it was an endearment.

'I too am looking forward to our evening at the opera,' she finally confessed.