Season's Feather

Chapter Three

Lord Aevery took a sharp breath from his new room. This was not right. He did not want to marry the woman whose house he was boarding in, no matter how beautiful she may have been he did not love her.

Yet, his father's dying wish was clear. Marry for the family. But Lady Silvester was not his family. She did not feel like family. Even though she was a sweet girl from what he had briefly witnessed, she did not make his heart flutter. He needed to find a wife though. Maybe he could marry out of it, it was clear Delilah was with the Viscount, and he did not want to overstep there.

His father was dead also, how treacherous could it be? His siblings wouldn't care. He was the Lord of his house.

Williamson nodded to himself and walked out. He was going to marry someone else, the arranged marriage could be damned - for now. It was the first day of the social season after all. He could look at different prospects. He could see if any of them would match the list of requirements he had in his head.

Maybe.

Woman after woman after woman. Williamson saw more and more. They were never ending. None of the women he saw were what he wanted. His sister could read better than any of these fools, and his brother could play instruments and sing songs to a level of grace that these women could never dream of.

He sighed walking back into the Silvester house. He finally navigated a short layout. His room, the stairs, the dining and drawing room, the gardens, and his hopeful destination the stables.    

Inside were three horses and a stable boy who was cleaning different areas.

"Excuse me?" Aevery asked, "May I borrow a horse?"

The boy nodded before going into one of the stables and guiding a tall handsome dark colored horse from one of the stalls. Handing him the reins, Aevery took them and swung over the top of the horse.

Settling himself he kicked and began to ride out into the land of the Silvester estate.

It was beautiful Williamson had to admit. But it wasn't home. It wasn't the lands of his countryside estate where he grew up with his father. The city just didn't satisfy him. Slowing down his horse, he came to a trot through the grounds. He was far enough out now to where he could imagine the country air.

And then a horse neighing sounded over the wind.

His head turned and on another handsome mane a cloaked woman sat.

"Miss, are you in trouble?" Williamson shouted over. But the woman did not respond.

Instead she took off, and Williamson looking in after her in shock, kicked the side of his horse and took off after her.

A race. Somehow, it turned into a competition. The two jumped and twisted through trees. Williamson had to lean down to protect his head from low straggling branches while his horse carried him closer to the mystery woman.

Until a high stump sat in the middle of the way. The woman's horse guided her gracefully over. However, Williamson with little experience in horse jumping slowed down to a stop looking over at the woman. She was beautiful when she removed her hood. She had a mischievous air around her.

Williamson had to find her, and find her he did. "Enjoying your victory lap?" He asked. But instead of replying in English. The woman replied in a foreign language. Williamson could not tell what language it was, but it sounded with an Indian accent. He scoffed inwardly, "You'll not be afforded such an ample head-start this time."

"Apologies, sir." The woman replied. "I did not mean to cause anyone concern."

"Does your maid know you are riding astride?" Williamson asked.

The woman chuckled, "I have no maid."

Williamson cocked his head in confusion, "Then you're married?"   

The woman glared up. Williamson could now see her face up close, a beautiful Indian woman with reflexive bronze skin and beautiful dark hair.

"Forgive me." He said softer, "Then you are lost."

The woman shook her head, "I am not lost either. I am on my way back to Mayfair. It is just ahead."

"Mayfair?"

"I appreciate your attention, sir, but I assure you I am perfectly safe." The woman responded, "Perhaps we pretend this encounter never took place? You allow me to go my way, and you go yours."

Williamson furrowed his brow, "You worry about being seen."

The woman shook her head though, "I worry about meeting strange men in parks at dawn who fail to leave me alone with their questions."

"Your secret is safe. I shall not tell a soul."

"How grateful I am." The woman bit sarcastically.

"Losing races to strange women in such parks at dawn. I can only imagine the questions I would be asked." Williamson jokes. Both share a light chuckle. Williamson looks over at the girl in interest, who was this woman?

The woman smirks slightly, "Is that what that was? A race?"

"Was it not?" Williamson replies.

"Does one not need actual competition for a race?"

"If we had decided on a finish line together, but alas, we made no such agreement."

The woman sighed, "I see you are not one for losing."

"I shall have you-" Williamson frowned, "I'd admit that I have either lost or am in the wrong. But I'm afraid the same can not be said for you."

The woman gave her a wide look, "I beg your pardon?"

"Mayfair is not right ahead. It's the other way entirely. And I've only been here a day." Williamson stated. He could hear men chatting beginning to approach. He turned his head back to the woman on the horse and gave one last look at the beautifully mysterious cloaked woman. "Not lost you said?"

The woman frowned, "Good day, sir." The woman began to ride off with her horse.

Williamson panicked. "We have not yet been introduced!"

"I'm afraid that is not possible. Not when I have a victory lap to enjoy!" The woman called over her shoulder. And just as she appeared, she was gone.