she regretted ever marrying Tony, but then he did something unexpectedly nice for her. It was never a verbal apology, but she could not resist his efforts at peacemaking. When he wasn’t angry, he looked so much like he expected her to be still shrewish, it was laughable. She wondered where they were drifting—possibly into one of those cool and polite relationships that were more like business deals than marriages. Perhaps that was all Tony had ever wanted.
* * *
As a way of making peace, Tony offered to take Sera for a ride once they were settled in Marsham Street. The house seemed larger to Sera than the town house, but that was because it could get air and light from all four sides. Even better, it was on a corner, so they had easy access to the stables. There was even a small garden. Sera and Lady Amanda talked excitedly about how to refurbish the worn furniture as they selected their rooms. Tony interrupted them ruthlessly, commanding Sera to put on her riding habit even before the garment was unpacked. She could only look wistfully at her crates of books in the empty downstairs room as she was whisked down the hall to the back door.
“What have we for a lady, Chadwick?”
“I fancy this bay mare, myself. She’s very lively, and Jeffers says she can jump.”
“Saddle her up,” Tony commanded.
“What’s her name?” Sera asked, taking off her gloves to stroke the velvety muzzle.
“Tansy,” Jeffers supplied, after he directed the stable boy to fetch Sera’s sidesaddle. The mare gave a playful buck and seemed a little uncertain of her direction, but Sera pulled her in behind Tony’s gray, and she soon quieted.
“That horse is supposed to be broken.”
“Probably not used to being ridden sidesaddle,” Sera commented. “She’s settling down to it already.”
Tony watched Sera jealously through Saint James’s Park, not knowing how well she might ride, considering the slugs she had owned. Sera did not make any grievous errors, except for talking to the mare the entire way, rather than to him. But he recalled she had said she did this and, however annoying it might be, it did seem to keep the young horse distracted enough not to try any dangerous tricks. Even a loose dog did not make her rear, since Sera saw it and calmed Tansy immediately.
It was a wearing ride for Tony, wondering when his wife would be dumped. He had never had charge of a lady on horseback before, and it made him nervous.
Sera, on the other hand, was having a marvelous time, outguessing her new friend, saving the young horse from any serious blunders by anticipating what she would try next. She had not enjoyed herself so much since she had helped Chadwick train Ivy’s colt.
“Tired?” Tony asked as he helped her down at home.
“Not at all. Can we ride every day?”
“If you like, and you can go with Chadwick or Jeffers when I am not about. I don’t know about that mare, though.”
“She is sweet. A little playful, perhaps, but so eager to please, if only she can figure out what I want from her.”
It struck Tony that Sera might be describing herself. He realized that she did everything she could think of to please him. She put up with his surly silences, and sometimes even managed to tease him out of them. He should never have married her. He could not be a real husband to her so long as her money kept them apart.
* * *
It rained for most of a week, which gave them time to settle in to the house off Horseferry Road. The next time Tony and Sera had a chance to ride together, Tony had a gelding brought out for Sera to mount. She supposed the horse was all right, but he did not look as well boned as old Casius, in her estimation.
“Can’t I ride Tansy, instead?”
“What?”
“Your little bay mare.”
“I sold that one, with some of my other stock.”
“Sold her? But why? I liked her so much.”
“She was not well trained, and sooner or later would have given you a crashing fall.”
“Your selling her—it wasn’t an accident,” Sera said accusingly. “You sold her on purpose. Why?”
Tony had already told her why. He did not want to tell Sera to her face that he did not trust her horsemanship.
“You don’t have to answer me,” Sera said bitterly, turning away. “You sold her because I liked her.”
“Don’t be stupid. Just get on the horse.”
“I don’t care to ride today—or ever—with you.” Sera walked deliberately back to the house, wondering if she had said too much. She did want to ride with Tony, very much, but he made it so plain this bored him, it was probably best she put a stop to it now. Everything she tried to do to get close to him seemed to put more barriers between them. She was so angry with him at that moment that if there had been an easy way to divorce him, she would have done it. Whether she still loved him or not was dangerous to think about.
He knew how she felt about horses, how she became attached to them, yet he sold the very one she liked the most. Did he do it on purpose, to put her in her place, or did he not even think about her wishes? This was a much more depressing thought than believing he had done it to spite her.
She did not have the heart to face Marie. If she had to tell her why she was not riding, she might very well cry, and she had too much pride for that. She went to the downstairs room she had chosen as her library, where by now some of her books had been unpacked and ranged along the available shelves like old friends. She leaned against them, and had a sudden black vision of Tony pulling them down and tearing their pages. She really was being silly. He never did anything violent. She almost thought it would be better if he did break something. Always he pushed down his anger, as though there were something keeping him from saying what he really thought.
She heard Tony running up the stairs, three at a time. It had to be him. She knew a cowardly impulse to lock the door. Instead, she took down a volume she knew by heart, carried it to the desk and sat down to read. It was ten minutes before he ran her to ground, and she had regained much of her composure by then. When he threw open the door, he was seething.
“I should drag you out there and make you ride that horse.”
“I suppose you could. But you don’t like to ride with me, anyway. It was a stupid idea to try at all. You don’t like to do anything with me. Why would you like to ride with me?”
“You are still my wife. I won’t have you throwing a fit over something as stupid as a horse.”
“If anyone made a scene, it was you. And horses are not stupid. At least Tansy was not. Now I shall never know what has become of her. She might be beaten or misused. You really don’t care.” Sera was very nearly in tears, in spite of her viselike grip on the old book.
“If you cared about her, you should have said something.”
“So it’s my fault she was sold, then?” Sera asked, in shock.
“I’m only saying it wouldn’t have happened—”
“I’m not a child, Tony. I wish you would stop playing these stupid games. If you don’t like me, there’s nothing I can do about that. But don’t pretend. It’s much more cruel than hating me outright.”
Tony looked as though she had dashed cold water over him. Sera walked past him, out of the room, and he stood a moment wondering what had given her the idea he hated her. Women took such stupid notions. All over a damn horse. He supposed he would have to buy the thing back now. He had only been trying to protect her. But hate her? Never!
A man with a little more experience with women would have gone after her, would have stopped making excuses and tried to explain himself. That would have meant apologizing, and Tony truly did not think he had done anything wrong, at least not