Page 32 of Return to Satterthwaite Court

“Nevertheless…” Kate cast a contemplative eye toward the horizon. The icy air filled her lungs on a deeply indrawn breath.

It wasn’t even about Lieutenant Heywood. Not really. It was about the exercise of her own free will. She wanted the unbridled independence to choose her future husband for herself.

“Take care,” Mama said again. “You have your reputation to consider. It’s already received a beating during your time in London, deservedly or not. I won’t review what transpired then. You’ve been scolded enough on that score. But I beg you, for once, spare a thought for your good name. If not for your own sake, then for your father’s. Your conduct reflects on the earldom. It does him no credit when you behave as though you don’t know any better.”

Kate’s gaze returned to her mother’s. She’d heard this particular lecture before. If pressed, she could probably recite it by heart. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve only called on Lieutenant Heywood in company with my brother. A perfectly respectable call, I might add. There was nothing of romance about it. And even if there were…” Ember stamped his hooves beneath her, sensing her restlessness. “What harm could it do if I were to pursue him a little?”

“A great deal of harm if he doesn’t reciprocate your intentions. Society tolerates boldness far more readily than it does foolishness. If you make yourself ridiculous—”

“I’ve no plan to do so.” Kate turned Ember back toward the house. “You needn’t worry, Mama.”

“I won’t worry.” Mama rode up alongside her. “Not so long as you promise to behave.”

“I promise,” Kate said, “to do nothing more scandalous than what you might have done yourself when you were my age.”

Her mother’s mouth curved in a dry smile. “That, my darling girl, is precisely what I’m afraid of.”

Chapter Ten

On the morning of January eighth, Kate rose early and, after donning her riding habit and fetching her horse, embarked on the eleven-mile journey to Tiverton in company with her groom, Jonas. It was a ride she’d made several times over the years, but never with such a sense of excitement.

Look for Mr. Arbogast on the eighth of January at ten o’clock in Gold Street…

A proper mystery! Whatever could it mean?

Kate could think of a dozen different answers, all of them more unlikely than the last. How could Lieutenant Heywood not be intrigued? He must, indeed, have no imagination at all. If it were a letter about her own mother, she’d have been champing at the bit to get to Tiverton.

As it was, she arrived in good time, crossing the boundary into Devonshire at exactly half past nine. She’d just entered Gold Street when she felt it—an alarming hitch in Ember’s stride.

She was off of him at once.

Jonas rode up alongside her. He dismounted. “Something wrong, my lady?”

“I fear so.” Kate ran a gloved hand down Ember’s right front leg, prompting him to pick up his foot for her inspection. The problem was immediately evident. A small, sharp-edged pebble had lodged itself in the groove of Ember’s frog. “Blasted thing,” she muttered, prying it loose. “How long has that been stuck there?”

“You didn’t feel anything afore now?” Jonas asked.

“Not until we came onto the street.” Kate led Ember a few steps. He bobbed his head as he walked. It was a sure sign of lameness. “Double drat,” she said under her breath. “I fear he’s bruised his hoof.”

Jonas didn’t argue with Kate’s assessment. He trusted her judgment when it came to horses. “That’s the case,” he said, “you won’t be riding him back.”

“No, indeed.” Kate turned, frowning. There was a coaching inn at the top of the street—The White Horse. She’d have to leave Ember there in Jonas’s care and hire a carriage to take her back to Beasley. It was either that or ride Jonas’s gelding back alone. Even she wouldn’t be so foolish.

“What a dreadful nuisance,” she said.

Her words were drowned out by the clatter of a curricle thundering around the bend. A young gentleman was driving with abandon. He slashed his whip in the air with a startling crack.

Ember reared, tearing the reins from Kate’s fingers. She reached for them again, but it was too late. With a toss of his head, Ember lunged forward. He might have galloped away if a gentleman hadn’t appeared out of nowhere to catch hold of his bridle.

Not just any gentleman.

Kate blinked up at the commanding figure of Lieutenant Heywood.

“You!” she exclaimed.

“You were expecting someone else?” The lieutenant addressed her briefly before turning his attention to settling her horse. “Easy lad,” he murmured to Ember. “You’re all right.” He stroked the gelding’s neck with one large, black-gloved hand. His touch was surprisingly gentle for a man so formidably built.

The young sprig in the curricle slowed a fraction as he approached them. “I say,” he called out amiably. “Is anything amiss?”