The Stanforth Secrets by Jo Beverley Page A

keep him, and take him out now and then.”
    A few moments later, Randal’s mount was brought forward by the still surly Frank. Randal checked the straps and girth before dismissing the man, then tossed Chloe into the saddle of the gray before swinging up onto the bay.
    As soon as they were out the gate, Chloe said, “What were you about? Frank knows his job and I’m afraid you offended him.”
    “Be damned to that,” said Lord Randal. “If a discontented servant wants to play tricks, it will not be at my expense.”
    Chloe laughed. “As if he would. It’s the sort of thing you would do, you mean.”
    “Take care you don’t provoke me, wench,” said Randal. “I promise you, if I ever find myself working as undergroom in an establishment of which you are the lady, I’ll play you every trick in the book.”
    They trotted along the coast road and down a path onto the sweeping sands of Half-Moon Bay, then they gave their horses their heads, even going down to splash along the shallows where the sea was beginning to recede. Turning, Chloe could look back at the reddish cliff with the Hall atop it, slightly obscured from this angle by a windbreak of high bushes.
    When he pulled up, Randal exclaimed, “This is marvelous fun! I never realized how good it was to ride the sands.”
    “Isn’t it?” said Chloe, her eyes shining like the sun-flecked sea and her color heightened by exertion.
    She saw Randal stop and stare. “God, Chloe. You must be the most beautiful woman in England.”
    Chloe was taken aback. “Don’t be silly. I do well enough—”
    “Well enough! You’ll have the pick of the eligibles, now you’re on the hunt again.”
    “On the hunt!” Chloe echoed. “I do wish everyone would stop harping on my next marriage. I have very high standards. Only a handsome, intelligent gentleman not too advanced in years, who is to be relied on in all matters of importance, would be even worthy of my consideration. Unless you know such a one, do not mention the matter again.”
    Randal bowed slightly. “There is myself.”
    Chloe looked at him in amazement. “Randal, is that an offer?”
    “God no!” he said in alarm, which made her break out laughing. “Don’t scare me to death, Chloe. I merely point out that such as you describe are not rare. Justin would fit the bill too.”
    “Just get that bee out of your head, cousin,” said Chloe firmly, “or I’ll accept your next flippant offer and make your life a misery.”
    She turned Mercury’s head sharply and set him to the trot again, but Randal soon caught up, completely undeterred.
    “In what way does Justin fall short? Think how convenient, too. You wouldn’t even have to change your stationery.”
    Chloe began to wish her favorite cousin hadn’t come up to Delamere after all. If he took the notion to interfere, he was capable of anything.
    She changed the subject. “Where’s Pepperpot gone?” They looked around. Finally, Randal spotted the dog at the base of the sandy cliff upon which Delamere stood. Pepperpot was pointing as he had been trained to do, clearly indicating something of interest among the rocks there.
    “Race you!” called out Chloe, and was off.
    They thundered over the dark brown sands toward the setter.
    “What’ve you found, boy?” asked Chloe. “A dead fish? A gull?”
    Randal was already off his horse and handed his reins to her. “I’ll just make sure it isn’t a wounded animal.”
    The headland was twenty feet or so high at this point, and where it met the sand there were many rocks and boulders. Some were half as tall as a man and, piled together in places, they formed caverns. Having gained their attention, the dog dashed ahead, but it took Lord Randal a little longer to negotiate the rocks.
    “Hold on, you damned hound . . . Good God!”
    There was silence. Chloe wished she could abandon the horses to follow her cousin, but Mercury in particular was not to be trusted. Then Randal reappeared from behind a