If he wanted to occupy himself with drinking, gambling, whoring, and the like, Owen need look no further than his own brother, Toby, back at Ainsworth Court. Unlike Holbrook, however, Toby could at least be excused the continued sowing of his wild oats if one took into consideration his youthful age and opportune lack of wife. Someday, he would become a respectable gentleman-or so Owen hoped. He held out no such expectation for the lecherous Holbrook.

“ Ah, horse breeding again,” Holbrook said, leaning over closer to him. “Haven’t you learned enough about that yet, Raynesford? You’ve hardly done anything this last sennight save read similar books.”

Owen spared the earl a scowl and turned the page.

The Bornholm clock next to the hearth ticked loud in the silence between them.

Holbrook shifted in his chair, adjusting his long legs so they stretched out before him and crossing one ankle before the other. “Pity you haven’t been paying more attention to the lovely Lady Raynesford. I know I have been.”

At that, Owen’s eyes flashed up to meet the lascivious gleam in Holbrook’s cold, black gaze. “Perhaps it would behoove you to pay such attention to Lady Holbrook instead of my wife.”

He slammed his book closed and tossed it to the table before him, then stalked from the suddenly repressive drawing room. Though it was dark out, he headed out through the gardens and made for the mews. A ride would do him good, and Quinton had been adamant that he should feel free to make use of any of his mounts should he see fit.

Only when he was halfway there did he see the folly in his decision. He should have gone straight up to Elaine. He should be making certain that Holbrook didn’t follow through with his implied threats. Turning around mid-stride, Owen took the back stairs two at a time, heading up to the abbey’s old dormitories where he and Elaine shared interconnecting rooms.