A Rake's Vow (Cynster 2) - Page 60

By unspoken accord, they put distance between themselves and the Hall, eventually drawing rein on the banks of the Nene. The river flowed steadily, a reflective grey ribbon smoothly rippling between thickly grassed banks. A well-beaten track followed the river; slowing the grey to a walk, Vane turned along it.

Patience brought her mare up beside him; Vane let his gaze roam her face, her figure.

Fingers tightening on the reins, he looked away. Over the lush riverbanks, insufficiently formal for the discussion he needed to have with her. The grassy banks would do nicely as a couch. Far too tempting. He wasn't sure he could trust himself in such a setting, and, after the stillroom, he knew he couldn't trust her. She, however, was an innocent; he had no excuse. Besides which, the area was too open, and Penwick often rode this way. Stopping by the river was untenable. And Patience deserved better than a few casual words and a question on horseback.

Thanks to Gerrard, it seemed he'd have to endure yet another morning without progress. Meanwhile, he, and his demons, were champing at the bit.

Beside him, Patience, too, found the idea of wasting another morning less than appealing. Unlike Vane, she saw no reason not to use the time. Having surreptitiously filled her mind anew with the image of him on his hunter, she voiced the thought uppermost in her mind. "You mentioned having a brother-does he look like you?"

Vane glanced her way, brows rising. "Harry?" He considered. "Harry has curly blond-brown hair and blue eyes-but otherwise"-a slow smile transformed Vane's face-"yes, I suppose he does look a lot like me." He slanted Patience a rakish glance. "But then, all six of us are said to look similar-the stamp of our common ancestors, no doubt."

Patience ignored the subtle tenor of that comment. "All six? Which six?"

"The six eldest Cynster cousins-Devil, myself, Richard-he's Devil's brother-Harry, who's my only sibling, and Gabriel and Lucifer. We were all born within five or so years of each other."

Patience stared. The idea of six Vanes was… And two were called Gabriel and Lucifer? "Aren't there any females in the family?"

"In our generation, the females came later. The eldest are the twins-Amanda and Amelia. They're seventeen and have just weathered their first Season."

"And you all live in London?"

"For some part of the year. My parents' house is in Berkeley Square. My father, of course, grew up at Somersham Place, the ducal seat. To him, that's home. While he and my mother, indeed, the whole family, are always welcome there, my parents decided to make their primary home in London."

"So that's home to you."

Looking over the green meadows, Vane shook his head. "Not any more. I moved into lodgings years ago, and recently bought a town house. When Harry and I came of age, my father settled sizable sums on both of us and advised us to invest in property." His smile deepened. "Cynsters always accumulate land. Land, after all, is power. Devil has the Place and all the ducal estates, which underpin the wealth of the family. While he looks after those, we're each expanding our own assests."

"You mentioned that your brother owns a stud."

"Close by Newmarket. That's Harry's enterprise of choice-he's a master when it comes to horses."

"And you?" Patience tilted her head, her eyes on his face. "What's your enterprise of choice?"

Vane grinned. "Hops."

Patience blinked. "Hops?"

"A vital ingredient used to flavor and clarify beers. I own Pembury Manor, an estate near Tunbridge in Kent."

"And you grow hops?"

Vane's smile teased. "As well as apples, pears, cherries, and cob nuts."

Drawing back in her saddle, Patience stared at him. "You're a farmer!"

One brown brow rose. "Among other things."

Recognizing the glint in his eyes, she swallowed a humph. "Describe this place-Pembury Manor."

Vane did, quite content to follow that tack. After a brief outline, bringing to life the orchards and fields spread over the Kentish Weald, he turned to the house itself-the house he would take her to. "Two stories in grey stone, with six bedrooms, five reception rooms, and the usual amenities. I haven't spent much time there-it needs redecorating."

He made the comment offhandedly, and was pleased to see a distant, considering expression on her face.

"Hmm" was all Patience said. "How far-"

She broke off and looked up; a second raindrop splattered her nose. As one, she and Vane looked up and behind them. With one voice, they cursed. Thunderheads had blown up, dark grey and menacing, swelling in the sky behind them. A leaden curtain of drenching rain steadily advanced, mere minutes away.

Looking about, they searched for shelter. It was Vane who spotted the slate roof of the old barn.

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Cynster Historical
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