Page 9 of Nothing But a Rakehell
“She’ll be thrilled to have pleased you, sir.”
“Eat up, Kes,” Tensford ordered. “We have a lot of ground to cover. I have something to show you.”
“Let me guess. Fossils? Sterne has already described his fossil hunts with you with great enthusiasm.”
“Oh, we’ll get to the fossils later, when the rest of the guests arrive. This expedition is more with you in mind. You were always fascinated with pulleys and scaffolding and industrial bits—it will be right up your alley of interest.”
His wife tilted her head. “Scaffolding, Lord Keswick?”
He flushed. “Please, call me Kes. All of my friends do.”
“Thank you, I will, if you will call me Hope, in return. But what did you find interesting in scaffolding, Kes?”
“He found it useful, more than anything, my dear,” Tensford answered, his grin spreading wider. “He grew to be quite skilled at adjusting it for height and configuration—whatever was needed to get him to the window of the girl he was interested in at the time.”
“Oh!” Her mouth twisted, though she tried to hide the grin. “How inventive of you, Kes.”
“Yes, well. Needs must, my lady.”
She laughed outright as she buttered a piece of toast.
“I’m sinking a new coal pit,” the earl explained. “I thought you might want a look at it.”
His interest perked. That did hold promise. “I would, in fact. I’ve always heard that much of my mother’s family’s money came from coal.”
Tensford spoke about the new venture and he listened while he ate. After a few minutes the countess broke in.
“My sister and I mean to join you as you ride out today. If you wouldn’t mind, that is.” The countess smiled. “Glory is an enthusiastic rider.”
Now he was even more interested. “By all means.” He threw down his napkin.
“I’m not sure why she hasn’t come down for breakfast yet. She’s usually an early riser.”
A footman stepped forward from his spot near the door. “Beg pardon, my lady. Lady Glory set out for the stables some time ago.”
“Well, then,” Keswick said with enthusiasm. “I thank you for breakfast, Hope. I’m ready to go whenever you two are.”
* * *
The girl wasn’tto be found at the stables, either.
“Poppy was feeling her oats this morn, sir,” one of the grooms explained. “The young lady took her out to the long field to run some of it off her.”
“Very good.” Tensford seemed satisfied. “We’ll stop for her there. It’s on the way, in any case.”
Keswick swung up onto his job horse.
“Apologies,” his friend said, flushing a bit. “For the lack of depth in our stables. It’s one of the things we just haven’t had the chance to address, just yet. But no worries for the house party. The local squire is a very good fellow and has agreed to stable a few of his fine steeds here for a couple of weeks. We’ll see you properly mounted then.”
“This fellow suits me fine, despite our contretemps yesterday. And there’s no need to apologize, especially for the knowledgeable grooms in your stables. The poultice your man used appears to have taken all of the sting from this fellow’s wound. I can’t even tell where he was afflicted, and it doesn’t seem to bother him a bit. We’ll get along fine, now.”
They rode out on the same track he’d come in on yesterday. He held his breath a bit as they passed the spot where the bog lay hidden, but suffered only a quip from Tensford about him bringing the whole thing into the house yesterday. Apparently the girl had not mentioned their meeting. Certainly, he was in no hurry to revisit the story.
They came through a wooded spot to a bridge that deposited them in a large, open area. He could see that the river bent into a wide curve. All of the long space between them and the curve was open field. At the very end of it, looking out over the water, he spotted a figure on horseback.
The earl cupped his hands and called across the distance. The horse and rider turned and at once set out in their direction.
It was her, surely. Who else? He stared as he saw her small figure bend low. The horse responded. They came flying toward them, and he held his breath, unable to look away.
