Page 1 of Almost a Countess

Chapter 1

Yorkshire, Mid-August1762

The coolness of the early morning hadworn off before Dora Harper had traveled half the distance to Mr.Hawkins’s tenant farm on the southwest corner of her father’sestate. She’d left just as dawn was breaking, as was her habit,however, the August sun had decided to shine bright and hot fromthe moment it cleared the horizon today. Her sky-blue riding habitclung close to her arms and back while perspiration dappled herneck. Perhaps a short rest down by the creek bed just yonder wouldcool both Gretchen’s hooves and her own face.

“Come along, Gretchen.”She pulled the horse down from a spirited canter to a trot and thena walk. “Let’s rest a few minutes before continuing on to visitMrs. Hawkins and her new little one.”

As though Gretchen understood, sheslowed even further as she took a slight path down the gentle slopeof the creek bed to finally stand in the middle of the stream underthe shade of the trees. Gretchen stretched her neck down to sip therushing water.

Dora patted her horse’s neck. “Goodgirl.”

Water sounded good to her, too,although there was none here to be had. If she dismounted to drinkfrom the stream, she’d be walking back to Bromley Manor. There wasno way she could remount the horse, who wore a sidesaddle. Had shebeen riding astride she might’ve climbed up on a rock and thrownher leg over the animal. But the sidesaddle thwarted such anattempt. Best move on quickly so she could enjoy some water at theHarris farm. Or she could head instead for the village of Bromptonand take a cool drink from Mrs. Jameson at The Green Tree Inn. Abetter choice altogether. She turned Gretchen’s head toward thevillage.

A quarter hour’s canter brought themto the inn, a hub of industry just as Mrs. Pierce’s shop inPotterne had been at her home in Wiltshire. Moments later, Mrs.Jameson’s thirteen-year-old son had helped her off the horse andwas leading Gretchen to the watering trough at the side of the inn.“Thank you, Tom. I won’t be long.” Only long enough to secure a cupof something cool and one of Mrs. Jameson’s superior smallcakes.

The innkeeper’s wife did notdisappoint, and Dora was soon ensconced in the place of honornearest the large front window, a mug of small ale and two of theheavenly cakes on a plate in front of her. “Much obliged, Mrs.Jameson.” Dora drank thirstily then bit into the first cake. Thecurrants gave it an extra sweetness that made her want to eat itslowly to savor the taste, while simultaneously wanting to gobbledown the sugary treat. “I am never disappointed when I comehere.”

“Ye’re lucky today, lass.”The good woman plied the surrounding tables with a soapy rag.“Those’re me last two until tomorrow. A group of soldiers comethrough an hour or so ago like a plague of locusts and ate everyscrap I had.” She nodded to Dora’s plate where the final cakeremained. “Savin’ the two I held back.” She sent Dora a smile. “Iknows you likes to come by of a Tuesday, Miss Harper, and that youlike my cakes particular.”

“Indeed I do, Mrs.Jameson.” Dora broke off a bite of the remaining cake and popped itinto her mouth. If that was the case, and there were no more to behad, she intended to savor this one. “What were soldiers doinghere?”

“They asked me if I’d seenany ragged-looking men come by in the last day or two. Said theywere looking for a man who’d escaped them several days ago. Takin’him to Edinburgh, they were, when he gave ’em the slip.” Mrs.Jameson nodded and grinned. “Good fer ’im, I say. The army can be acruel and vicious thing, mark my words, Miss Harper. Some men’rhonorable and do their duty, but others are just mean through andthrough.” She nodded toward the door. “You don’t want no troublewith this lot, miss.”

“I certainly don’t, Mrs.Jameson.” She’d never had any communication with soldiers or thearmy in general. She’d always thought it a decent profession for agentleman to enter, but she understood that all the regiments werenot made up solely of gentlemen. Still, if they were searching fora prisoner, she’d pray they found him and swiftly. Such desperatemen could be dangerous, especially to a woman virtually alone asshe was.

Her father’s punishment when she brokeher engagement to her long-time suitor Lord Trevor had resulted inher exile here in Yorkshire. That punishment extended to the numberof servants retained on the Bromley estate as well: Hanson thebutler, Mrs. McComber the cook, Alfred, who did double duty asgroom and coachman, one young girl, Annie, serving as the onlyhousemaid, Larkin, her lady’s maid, Mrs. Carlyle the housekeeper,and a single footman, James. The gardening was done by an elderlyman who came from the village two or three times a week to makesure nothing was terribly overgrown. A pitiful contingency shouldsomeone threaten her safety, but the men were all fit save thegardener. Dora herself had learned to shoot since she’d come toYorkshire—thanks to James—so together she and her household couldfend off most threats to her safety.

“I will be sure to alertmy household staff of both the soldiers and the fugitive.” Sherose. “But I must go. I’m determined to arrive at Mr. Hawkins’scottage before luncheon so I may be home in time for myown.”

“That’s smart of you,miss.” Mrs. Jameson swept the crumbs into her hand then whiskedaway the cup and plate. “I’ll be looking for ya next Tuesday, justlike always.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jameson.”Dora pulled on her gloves. Not only did she have to worry aboutgetting home before dark, now she had to fret over soldiers comingupon her as well.

She mounted Gretchen, and with a callof thanks to Tom, trotted out of the innyard and down the village’sone lane until it disappeared into grass and Dora struck out forher father’s tenant farm, perhaps three miles away. The man’s wifehad just given birth to a strong, healthy baby boy, and Dora hadridden out today with supplies for the young family stashed in acarry bag behind her saddle.

The warmth of the sun returned,although it didn’t plague her as much as thoughts of the soldiersand their quarry did. Dora had only been in the county since April.In that time, she hadn’t heard from, or even seen, the Britishsoldiers garrisoned in York, the nearest town large enough to havetroops stationed in it. They were at least two days’ ride from thispart of Yorkshire, so she doubted the man they sought had headedthis way. If he had a brain in his head, he’d head west towardLeeds, the biggest city in this part of England, and lose himselfin the crowds.

The remainder of the ride wasuneventful until she emerged from the trees on the hill to thenorth of Mr. Hawkins’s holding. This vantage point gave her a viewof the tenant farmhouse, outbuildings, and barn. It also allowedher to see the five British soldiers, their red coats bright in thehot sunshine, sitting their horses in the farm’s front yard,speaking to her father’s tenant.

Quietly, she backed Gretchen into thetrees once more, unsure if an overabundance of caution made herunwilling for the soldiers to see her or simply that she wasdisinclined to have her plans for the day altered by the time itwould take for their questions. Should she ride down to thefarmhouse, she would likely need to explain her presence and thatwould delay her return. She’d wait here for the soldiers to departthen quickly deliver her gifts for Mrs. Hawkins and her baby andhead home.

Dora didn’t have long to wait. Athunder of hooves to the east told her the men had gone.Cautiously, she crept over the hill, but the yard was empty savefor the dusty hoofprints they’d left behind. She gave Gretchen’sflank a tap, and the horse trotted forward, down the hill to thelow-lying house. No one was stirring now.

“Mr. Hawkins!” Doracalled, and a dark curtain twitched in one of the smallwindows.

With the scrape of a bar being lifted,the plank door opened. Mr. Hawkins stuck his head out and glancedaround the yard. “Miss Harper? Did you see thesoldiers?”

Dora nodded. “From the rise near thetrees. I waited until they left so they would not see a womanalone.”

“’Twould’ve been better ifyou’d ridden with your groom this morning.” Hawkins slipped out ofthe house to stand beside her, his whole demeanor still watchful.“The soldiers are chasing after a man from the north. I’d not haveyou run afoul of either of them.”

“I’m sure I will not.”Determined to show a brave face to the man, Dora unhooked her legfrom around the top pommel and slid nimbly to theground.

The farmer grabbed the horse’s bridle,giving Dora the opportunity to untie the carry bag from behind thesaddle.

“Congratulations, Mr.Hawkins. I’ve brought a few things for your wife and child. Mrs.Hawkins is doing well?”

“Right as rain, thank you,miss.” His face clouded over. “We’re doing well. Or at least wewere until those soldiers showed up this morning.”