"Halloo! Halloo!" The horses' hooves made the earth tremble as they gave chase, the hounds having the scent of their prey. The huntsman and his whips curried the dogs along, giving chase on foot and horse as the rest of the hunting party followed forward. In red jackets and white breeches, they were the very sight of British aristocracy. Gentlemen and the few ladies as were not back at the manor all laughed in great sport as they ran the fox to ground, the field hounds baying and panting in their pack and horses bright with sweat. Was there anything more thrilling than the chase, the circling, the kill? And for weather it was near impossible to ask for any better a day! The sun was bright in the sky, itself clear of clouds but filled with a cooling breeze that had helped carry the quarry's scent to eager noses. James Rossmund, the lord of lands and Master of the Hunt, preened in self appreciation. If his guests thought this was anything of note, wait until they saw the late luncheon prepared for them!

The head of the fox was given over to his friend Charles Burgess, a Captain in the King's Royal Navy and his friend from early childhood. The brush, or tail, was presented to one Miss Elizabeth Provident, a young lady of Puritan extraction whose family as currently unaware of her whereabouts thanks to said Charles. James knew his maritime friend was on the hunt for more than just fox that day. He was determined to give Charles the best wind to his sails as he might, wishing him both victory and the spoils that would no doubt come with it. It was the perfect guise for Charles to court her. Joshua, having come into his inheritance upon the death of his uncle Ebeneezer Scrim (of whom little good anyone ever had to say), had every right to celebrate his new house and lands in the west country, and should a few of his guest find more pleasure in each other's company than in his? Well and good! Who was he to deny happiness to anyone on such a day?!

Content in his lot in life, he led his friends and guests on a slow trot back towards the manor house. The Master of the Fox, a cousin to the local Resident Magistrate whose name escaped James at the moment, brought his horse along side James' gelding. "A merry chase. A merry chase, indeed. Your uncle was never much for the hunt, you know. Never let us upon his lands. Plenty of game to be had here, I dare say, unchecked all these years. Still, a merry chase, sir!" the older gentleman rumbled. He brushed the sides of his waxed mustache with a deer-skin glove casually. "Minds me of the time my father near caught The Hare."

James raised an eyebrow. He was not given over to small talk, but something about the way the ancient had accented the words caught his ear. "The Hare, you say, sir?"

"Oh, aye, I do, sir!" the gentleman nodded. "Being new to these parts you probably haven't heard the tale! The Bonny Black Hare they call her. Most of the village folk down the lane from here will still tell tales of her. Fastest thing you'd ever seen! Outsmarted entire packs of dogs, even ones brought over from the Germanies! Supposedly been around these lands for generations, the same ebony haired coney that no one's ever caught."

Laughing at the delightful absurdity of it, James wondered at the gullibility of the common folk. "Come now, sirrah. You are making merry with me, surely!"

Shaking his head, the RM's cousin chuckled. "I did not believe it myself, Master Rossmund-"

"None of that now!" the younger man chided, bright blue eyes twinkling in the heady rush of camaraderie that the hunt brought. "We are friends here! You shall call me 'Rosie' like all my friends do, sir!"

"And you then, shall call me Earnest!" He shrugged. "Damn silly sort of name, I know, but father did so want to please my mother with it. But I tell you the truth, for I have seen it myself when I was a lad. A hare black as night and faster than any fox or hound I ever did see, who could leap over a man's head be he ever so tall and was cunning enough to run beneath a lady's skirts to hide." Sighing at the memory, it was obviously a recollection of mirth and awe that the older man savored. "Oh, to see that again. May God grant you such a sight upon your lands, Rosie!"

James doffed his riding hat to run slender fingers through his hair, dark and cut curled in the latest of fashions. An attractive if not overly handsome man, his mutton chops quite went to his jaw while leaving the rest of his face cleanly shaven and pink from exertion. He was a stark contrast to the heavier set man besides him, grey haired and well into his years. Though of different generations, James found himself taking quite a liking to their local Master of the Fox. "Earnest? Will you and your wife do me the honor of having dinner with me this Sunday next?"

Astonished by the offer, Earnest quickly accepted. He was only one of a handful of local gentry invited to the weekend's affairs, mostly out of courtesy. It was the done thing. Most of the others in attendance were James' companions from London and further afield. "Mrs. Abernathy will be well pleased, I should say. My wife is the sort who loves when someone else cooks!" he chuckles. "Best not to let her know you are, as they say, 'on the market.' She'll have a parade of local gels upon and down before your eyes to see you well married off, preferably to one her relations!"

Groaning in only partially mock horror, James shook his head. "Her and my honored mother, then. I'm not even in my thirties, only just come into my fortunes! Can I not have some time to enjoy the bachelor's life?"

"No woman likes to see a man unwed," Earnest sagely advised as they neared the house. "Makes them think they're not doing their job properly."

James laughed, wild and free at the jest. He would settle down in his own time, but for now these were his lands and his freedom.