Page 43 of The Cornish Mermaid

“Oh, bugger it.” The unladylike words popped out of Ysella’s mouth before she had time to think, and she clapped one hand over her mouth as though to hold them in. Too late. Wherever had she learned to swear like that?

They stood still. There wasn’t really much else they could do, under the circumstances. Kit and Mr. Beauchamp rode up, both slightly red in the face and angry.

“My God, Ysella,” Kit shouted, his eyes flashing in fury. “What are you two doing out here dressed like this? And astride your horses? How unladylike can you get? We took you for a pair of horse thieves.”

His eyes went to Morvoren. “And Miss Lucas. To say I am shocked that you’ve encouraged my sister in such hoydenish behavior is an underestimation in the extreme. I thought better of you, I have to say, even though I did not of Ysella.”

Lochinvar curvetted as Ysella’s hold on his reins tightened. “I made Morvoren do it,” she burst out. “You cannot blame her for this. It was all my idea and I forced her into it so she could show me how to ride astride and teach me to jump in the forward position.” Her eyes flashed as angrily as her brother’s. “And I can tell you, Kitto, that if you took the trouble to let her teach the forward position to you as well, you would have far more fun out hunting and your horse would go more willingly over obstacles.”

Morvoren stayed silent. Best not to interrupt the two angry siblings.

Sam Beauchamp moved his solid chestnut closer to Sweetlip. “Miss Lucas, I presume. I haven’t had the pleasure of your acquaintance yet. Samuel Beauchamp at your service.” His gaze fixed on Morvoren’s face, possibly trying hard to avoid looking at what she was wearing.

“You can both ride home with us immediately,” Kit snapped. “Before any of our tenants or staff see you.”

Ysella lowered her head but not because she was contrite. The naughty girl was trying hard not to laugh.

Kit sighed. “You’ve already been observed, haven’t you?”

“Only the downstairs servants in the kitchen, and they didn’t see us on our horses.”

“You are incorrigible.” Kit’s eyes blazed. “I despair of you ever becoming enough of a lady for Mama to take you to London for the season.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go to London for the season,” Ysella retorted, whipping Lochinvar around so he was facing the long green track along the side of the lake. “And maybe I don’t want to do as you say. You’re only my brother, not my father.” She dug her heels into her horse’s sides and he leapt forward from a standstill into a fast canter. She slapped her reins back and forth against his neck to drive him ever faster as she disappeared along the lakeside track as fast as she could go.

The other horses skittered on the spot in their eagerness to join in. “Bloody girl,” Kit said, turning to Sam. “I’ll have to go after her. Can you escort Miss Lucas back to the house at a more decorous pace and make sure she goes straight upstairs to change? I’ll see you back there.”

And with that, he spurred his own horse after his sister, leaving Morvoren alone with Sam.

They stood in a shocked silence for a moment or two before Sam looked across and smiled warily, concern in his grey eyes. “I must apologize, Miss Lucas, for having to escort you back under guard.” The concern was replaced with a twinkle. He seemed a very stolid, dependable sort.

Morvoren smiled. “That’s quite all right, Mr. Beauchamp. It will be a pleasure to ride in your company.”

They rode back far more sedately than Kit and Ysella had done along the edge of the lake. A pair of beautiful swans glided in tranquil calm across the mirrored surface at one end, and at the other, lilies were just opening their porcelain flowers to the morning sun. Very idyllic. And no sign of either of the two Carlyons.

No sign of them in the stable yard either, where two young lads, eyes carefully averted, came running forward to take the horses as Morvoren slid from Sweetlip’s saddle.

“It’s quite all right,” she said to Sam. “I can find my way back to my room by myself. And don’t worry, my maid will be waiting to make sure I’m quite the girl again before you see me next.”

He clicked his heels together smartly and bowed. “I shall return to the Estate Office in that case and get on with my work.” He paused. “I trust you will give Miss Ysella my regards, and…” He paused again and licked his lips. “Compliment her from me on her excellent seat at a gallop.”

Morvoren met his gaze and found his grey eyes dancing with amusement. “Thank you, Mr. Beauchamp. I will pass on your message.”

*

Kit

Girls. Why were they so infernally difficult to manage and why did they always want to do something you would have expressly forbidden if they’d asked you? Kit threw his horse’s reins to a stable lad and stomped into the house in pursuit of his sister. There being no sign of her meant she must have arrived a good minute or two before him. That’d teach him for buying her such a good horse.

In the servants’ hall, every single one of them kept their heads down, not wanting him to accuse them of complicity in Ysella’s misbehavior, presumably.

She wasn’t in the great hall, thank goodness, so he hurried through it and strode up the stairs two at a time. The long landing their bedrooms opened off lay empty. He approached her door and hesitated. She might well be in the process of removing the offending garments. He knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Nothing.