Meant to Bea

CHAPTER SIX

Race could barely convince his eyelids to stay glued together long enough for him to fall asleep, neither could he convince his mind to do anything but think of Lady Bianca. Yet, that was all he could do; stay awake and think of her.

Their conversation the day before, when he had confessed to hiring servants in anticipation of being married to her sister, had done exactly what he had meant for it to do; hurt her. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. If only he could go back to the past and stop himself from being such an idiot! Perhaps he must apologise? It seemed like the best thing to do to ease the tension between them, and especially soothe his conscience.

A few hours later, he staggered out of bed, having not gotten any sleep at all. It was after all useless trying to fall asleep. He would tend to his horses and see about making breakfast.

He changed out of his nightshirt and into his work clothes; a grey shirt and black trousers. Not bothering to tuck the shirt in, or comb his hair, he made his way out of the room and into the dark hallway. Slowly, he closed the door behind him, making certain to walk gently through the hall for fear of awakening Lady Bianca. He was almost at the stairs, when his foot connected with something.

"Argh!"He growled, just as the object clattered loudly in the hall. He leaned down enough to see it was the tray he had put before Lady Bianca's door the night before. Noticing the food in the plate had been untouched, he frowned. Was she still angry? Surely it was madness to be angry with another and punish one's self as a result of that anger! It was madness to loathe him and starve herself in a clear show of just how much she hated him. Was this how women of the ton behaved? Would they purposely hurt themselves as an act of manipulation against their husbands?

Race sighed taking the tray in his hands. He made his way down the dark stairs and to the kitchen where he placed the tray on the worktable. Walking out of the house through the back door, he began his walk to the stable. Darkness clouded his vision, but he had the paths to the stable memorized.

He walked slowly, his lungs filling with the cool morning air. The sound of his footsteps were cushioned by the grasses beneath his feet. He didn't reach the stable until color began to streak across the dark sky, the beautiful display of red and orange taking his breath away like it had always done through his years in the manor.

He loved these lands, the only property he inherited from his half brother. Race was lucky, if Noah wasn't a kind man, he would inherit nothing for society made it clear that he, as a bastard, was worthy of nothing. Society wasn't the only one that held this view, his own father held it as well. Wanting no shame in the scandal that would follow if he dared acknowledged Race as his son, the Marquess of Camden chosen to ignore his existence. And while ignoring Race's existence didn't stop the gossips from gossiping, at least they were sure to be discrete about their allegations for there was no evidence to any of it. Then, the Marquess died, and like every other man of society who lived double lives -one with a wife in the day time, and another with a mistress in the night- Lord Camden made certain to leave his bastard son without an inheritance.

Race didn't care for he knew nothing about his father, nothing but the fact that the man sired him. He barely saw his father long enough to have a relationship with him. He only saw the Marquess once in two months, when he would sneak into their little cottage and Race's mother would have him sit outside for several hours. Then, the Marquess would appear at the door, wearing a hat and a coat with black gloves. He would smile at Race and toss a coin in his hands.

For many years, the strange man with the black coat and hat, was a stranger to Race, until he turned eight. Then, he got into a fight one day with some boys his age. They mocked him and called him a bastard; a word he didn't know the meaning at the time.