A Marriage Most Inconvenient (Inconvenient Matches Book #1)

Chapter 7: Ben

To say that Benedict was having a bad week would have been, perhaps, the understatement of the decade, if not the century. If fainting like a delicate young miss in front of the most influential men in the country, then being scolded by one's friends and sister was not bad enough to qualify, the events following his departure from Bath were sure to prove that he had been cursed. If he were a superstitious man, he would half suspect that his Duchess may have been behind it.

To begin with, his incredibly well-trained horse that had been his mount for nigh five years developed a limp the day he was to leave his sister's townhouse thus he was forced to substitute it for his brother-in-law's temperamental Arabian. The creature was spoilt and ill-mannered and Ben's considerable skill in the saddle was only just enough to keep it from rearing up at every slight sound. If he wasn't careful, the steed would happily chuck him off and run off into the countryside. Then, of course, he had to leave his valet behind to ensure that his own horse was brought to Hartley upon its recovery because he did not trust his sister's groomsman to give him the attention he needed. Benedict could dress himself for a few days if that was the price of being assured that his horse would be well taken care of.

Yes, perhaps, he was a touch possessive and oversensitive about his mount, Haider, but he had gotten Benedict through the dark days following his father's death. So really, Haider deserved every damn luxury Benedict could provide him.

The day following their departure from Bath, they had gotten caught in some rain at least an hour's ride from the nearest inn – God, how he hated the country- and had to find shelter under the trees because his horse had refused to budge. So he had spent three hours trapped in a carriage cramped with luggage, with absolutely nothing to do because Graham had the convenient skill of being able to sleep damn near anywhere.

The day after that, they had been set upon by highwaymen and robbed blind. Apparently, robbers armed with guns were not particularly impressed nor frightened by Dukes and Marquesses, rather they found the carriage with his Ducal Crest to be an easy mark. He was of half a mind to sack the footmen that had accompanied them, but what could they have done in the face of four gunmen?

Had he mentioned that he hated the country? No one would have dreamed of robbing him in London.

The final indignity came on the day he arrived in the town of Marshall Glenn, half an hour away from Hartley Manor. He had made the foolish mistake of being relieved that his journey was at an end, thinking that nothing else could possibly go wrong. That was when a stray hound had darted past them, sending his moody Arabian into a panicked gallop. He was wrestling the beast for control when he saw a woman practically run onto the road, right into the path of his charging mount. She was going to get them both killed.

Honestly, it served him right if he died here, in the middle-of-bloody-nowhere, Cornwall. If he hadn't been so prideful as to ignore his doctor's orders, he might not have been here. In fact, if he had just swallowed his pride and gone to spend a few weeks in the same estate as his Duchess, all this indignity could have been avoided.

He yelled a warning, beseeching her to get out of the way, but his warnings may as well have fallen on deaf ears. The horse saw the woman in the way and veered to alter its course. It reared onto its hind legs, and the force of the jerk was so great that it was beyond even Benedict to keep his seat. He was flung sideways, barely remembering his training on how to properly break a fall. He felt a threatening crack, somewhere in the vicinity of his ankle as his entire body met the ground barely half a meter from the woman who had caused it all.

His ankle smarted, yet, his rage at the stupid woman propelled him to half-crawl his way to her and grab her by the shoulders. She had sunk to her knees and had a faraway look in her eyes, all glazed over and confused.