The Birth of Blue Satan Read Online Free

desires—the Church was very clear on this subject—but he could not help yearning for the moment he could make her his.
     
    Consumed by these thoughts, Gideon had ridden back to Hawkhurst House, across from Green Park in Piccadilly, still in such a foul humour as to speak curtly to the new boy in his stables who was slow to take his reins. Normally quick with a smile for his servants, he had soon regretted his angry tone and resolved to go out of his way to speak more kindly to the boy in future. But he had been so anxious to see Isabella, to have her smile reward him for his loyalty, that he had not bothered with such a trifling matter then.
    Now Philippe’s insinuations about the Duke of Bournemouth increased his impatience. His need to speak with Isabella deepened with every passing moment, so he resisted his valet’s more elaborate attempts to arrange his long, powdered wig.
    Eventually, clad in a knee-length coat with large, turned-back cuffs and matching waistcoat in peach-coloured silk with elaborate brocade, a pair of silk inexpressibles, a fall of long, blond lace at his throat, clocked silk stockings and high-heeled shoes, a gold-hilted sword riding at his hip, and a three-cornered hat, Gideon was at last able to leave his house. He had already sent word to have a fresh horse saddled, aware that riding to the ball would get him there sooner than taking a chair. In truth, he still had an edge to his passion to work off before seeing Isabella.
    Stepping out into the wide courtyard of the house, he spied the stocky figure of Thomas Barnes, his groom, walking his mare. Noting the scowl on the face of the man who had guided him and watched over him since his fourth birthday, Gideon smothered an impatient sigh. He was sure to get a sharp scolding, both for his abuse of the horse today and for his intention to ride out unaccompanied so close on midnight.
    No moon was in evidence, and the small bit of light that might have been expected from the stars had been smothered by a layer of cloud. On a night like this, the streets would be thick with thieves, eager to strip an unwary man. Tom would be sorely displeased. But Gideon was not in the mood to take a scolding, not after the one he had received from his father.
    “Good evening, Tom.” Affecting not to notice his servant’s scowl, Gideon reached to take the reins.
    “‘Tis more good morning, my lord.”
    “Do you think? I have not heard the clock strike, but perhaps the chimes are off. You must remind me to have them checked.”
    Gideon’s irony was seldom lost on Thomas Barnes, who snorted. “Your lordship knows full well what time o’ the clock it is, and what your lordship’s asking for t’ be riding out at such an hour.”
    “Now, Tom, you must be aware by now that I am a man fully grown, and as such I may keep the hours I like.”
    “If you are so fully growed, how come your lordship don’t know there’s footpads wandering these streets just a’waiting for a pigeon like your lordship to pluck?”
    “A pigeon? Tom, I fear you do not flatter me.”
    “No. Nor I won’t be flattering your lordship neither till you shows a bit of the sense your father give you.”
    Reins in hand, and reaching for the saddle, Gideon froze. His words, when they came, were very low. “Thomas, this scolding will have to cease or I shall be forced to find a groom who does not seek to remind me that he instructed me to hold the reins. It is quite beyond my limits to have you pull a prosy face in front of my friends.”
    “I don’t see no friends about,” Tom mumbled, as he bent to give his master a leg up, but he threw Gideon up into his saddle without further comment and made the final adjustments to his straps. There would be no point in remonstrating further when my Lord St. Mars took on that tone.
    Not that Gideon’s voice had betrayed anything more than a wry amusement, but Tom had sensed the steel underneath. And his experience told him that nothing would shake