And how was she going to get back to the rectory? She was several miles away and didn’t have a clue how to find her way home. Above her, the wind whistled through the naked branches and she shivered. Not from the cold, not from the distance to travel, but from the dark.
She was slightly afraid of the dark.
“Breathe slowly and deeply,” she coached herself, trying to ignore the thumping of her heart against her ribs. “There’s no reason to be afraid. Daisy? Are you there?”
She waited, listening for hooves or a whinny, but only the stream’s quiet gurgle answered.
“Think, Amanda,” she scolded. “You didn’t ride that far into the grove, and here—”she moved her foot to explore the ground—”is surely the path that led you inside. So just slowly walk forward until you are outside, and then across the meadow. Stephen is sure to send someone to search for you.”
Knees shaking, she managed to cautiously move forward, hands outstretched. She couldn’t remember needing to duck under any low branches, so she shouldn’t have to worry about hitting her head. Something crunched beneath her feet and then the texture changed to something soft and whispery. She must be out of the grove and back in the snow-covered meadow. Overhead, a million stars cast their pinpoints of light across the onyx landscape and she tried to recall anything she’d read about navigating by starlight. Wasn’t that what sailors did? Surely she could reason it out.
But it was so terribly cold and her trembling increased.
Why in the world hadn’t she turned back while it was still light? Stephen would be out of his mind with worry. What would she tell Perdita if something happened to Daisy?
And heaven spare them, what was Amanda going to tell St. Cloud about his horse? She clutched her cloak more tightly about her, and forced that particular idea from her thoughts. If St. Cloud had ever been annoyed with her before now, then this would surely seal her fate.
She stopped and listened. Tandem hooves beating against the ground signaled someone coming, and then a glimmer of light bouncing against the darkness showed that someone carried a lantern. She snatched off her hat and waved it.
“Hello?” she shouted. “Hello, I’m here! Over here!”
The hooves’ pounding became a roar and the lantern’s gleam grew brighter until even Amanda’s eyes could see two fuzzy images on horseback emerge out of the gloom. One surged forward until it was almost on top of her. Amanda stumbled back and then cried out as the horse slowed just enough for a pair of arms to snatch her up onto the saddle, placing her in front of the rider. Sitting so close to him, she could not miss the remarkable features of Cameron Hunt. His scent, faintly sweet with spice notes, enveloped her and she clutched at the lapels of his greatcoat.
“Miss Fleming,” he said softly, bringing Socrates to a stop. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “I think so.”
His eyes—the expression so like the one the day they met—glittered with a catlike intensity. “Where have you been all this time? Your brother said you left at half past three.”
Unsure if the heat scalding her face was from his scrutiny or her own foolishness, Amanda said, “I fell asleep. By a rock near a stream.”
“And Daisy? Where is she?”
Tears pricked her eyes but Amanda kept her voice level. “When I woke up, Daisy was gone. I’m sorry. Hasn’t anyone seen her?”
“Not when I left.”
“Oh, dear,” Amanda said miserably. “I’m sorry.”
He lifted her chin with his gloved fingers. “You’re a great deal of trouble, Miss Fleming, do you know that?”
“I’ve heard it said so,” she admitted, waiting for her heart to stop its furious pace. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be.”
The other rider joined them, lantern in hand. “Got her, my lord?”
“Yes, thank you, Arwine,” St. Cloud said. “Head back to the rectory and assure Mr. Fleming his sister is safe. We’ll follow in a minute.”
“Yes sir.” The man turned his horse around and galloped back, the lantern’s light bouncing beside him until it vanished in the darkness.
“D-don’t you need the lantern?” Amanda stammered. Having the Earl of St. Cloud’s arm around her waist was doing interesting things to her pulse.
Not to mention her heart.
He pulled his scarf from his neck and wrapped it around hers. Sitting in the circle of his arms, she could not escape his warmth spreading around her. “I grew up here, Miss Fleming,” he said. “I can find my way home in the dark. And even if I couldn’t, Socrates can. If we hurry, I’ll make it to the Pembrokes just after Perdita does.”
Recalling Lucy Pembroke’s invitation this morning to him and Perdita, Amanda sighed. “Oh, dear. I’ve made you late for your dinner engagement.”
“Not if we hurry.” With one arm still around her waist, St. Cloud turned Socrates around, and moved him into a gallop. They rode in silence for several moments before Amanda worked up the courage to ask, “How is it that you came looking for me, my lord?”
“Your brother came to Heart’s Ease with the news you hadn’t returned from your afternoon ride. He said because of his near night blindness, he would be quite useless to help in the search and so—.”
“He thought you would be the best choice,” Amanda finished. “For who would know the area around here better than you?”
“I suppose so,” he said matter-of-factly. “But there’s another reason.”
His warmth against her should have eased some of the tension from her body. Instead, it and the strength of his arm around her only served to keep her heart moving at a gallop nearly as fast as Socrates’s own. “What would that be, my lord?”
“I think he thought as I too have only one sister, I would understand better than anyone his concern for your safety. You frightened him terribly, Miss Fleming. You should know that.”
If he had yelled at her, or accused her of foolishness, she would have been able to stand it. But his voice’s quiet accusation acted like a lance, striking her conscience with deadly precision and starting an ache in her heart. She would rather take a beating than hurt her twin.
They rode the rest of the way to the rectory in silence. The only sound other than her heart roaring in her ears was Socrates’s hooves beating against the nearly frozen earth, sending a spray of snow to settle against them like a swatch of frozen lace.
And yet, there was no other place that Amanda would rather be. Incredibly, against all reason, and all their past encounters, Amanda was falling in love with Cameron Hunt. She only hoped that Lucy had the sense to accept his proposal of marriage as soon as her Aunt Adelaide arrived.
Too soon, even her eyes could make out the lights in the rectory window. Socrates’s approach must have alerted Stephen of their approach, because the front door jerked opened and her brother burst out onto the front porch, and came down the front steps, followed by Thomas who held up a lamp.
And with them was Perdita. Behind Amanda, St. Cloud stiffened as he pulled Socrates to a halt by the steps and a waiting coach.
His coach. Even the horses didn’t look happy and George’s frozen expression had nothing to do with the falling temperature.
“Thank God,” Stephen said, reaching up to help Amanda from the saddle. “I’ve been half out of my mind with worry.”
“So have I!” Perdita pulled Amanda into a rib-bruising hug. “Wherever have you been?”
“Perdita, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the Pembrokes.” St. Cloud slid from Socrates and glared at them, as if trying to decide which one of them had caused him the most trouble. George, an explanation if you please.”
“Ask her ladyship, my lord.” George’s frown matched his employer’s.
“I made him bring me.” Perdita put in, returning St. Cloud’s stony gaze with hauteur. “Did you think I was going to sit at the Pembrokes, sick to death with worry while waiting for you to arrive with news of Amanda?”
“I told Oakley
to have George take you there and wait for me.” Ice dripped from St. Cloud’s tone.
“And I told George if he didn’t bring me here to wait with Stephen, I would either saddle Bandit myself and ride over here, or I would walk.” Perdita folded her arms over her chest. “He didn’t have a choice. And so here I am.”
“Can’t argue with Miss Perdita when she sets her mind to do something, my lord,” George called gloomily from his perch. “We all know that.”
“Is Daisy here?” Amanda asked, desperate to change the subject. She unwound St. Cloud’s scarf and gave it back to him.
“She showed up just after the earl and Mr. Arwine left,”
Stephen said, leading them back inside and shutting the door. “Perdita and I put her in the stable and gave her a good rub down and fed her. Amanda, what happened?”
Keeping her gaze on the floor, Amanda followed into the parlor with the St. Clouds right behind her. After they were seated, and Hamish joined Perdita on the loveseat, Amanda said,” I dismounted to give Daisy a bit of a rest and fell asleep by a tree,” she said. “I’m sorry, Stephen. I didn’t mean to frighten you, or you either, Perdita. And I’m sorry I’ve made you late for your evening with the Pembrokes, my lord.”
“Well, thank God you’re all right,” Stephen said, sinking against his chair. “My lord, could we convince you to stay for dinner? Mrs. Crawford has been keeping it hot.”
“And we could tell you about the ideas Stephen and I discussed for the new Sunday school while we waited. We can talk about it over dinner,” Perdita added. She turned adoring eyes on St. Cloud, who had gone to stand before the fireplace, his hands behind his back. “I knew if any one could find you Amanda, it was you, Cam.”
“We have a previous invitation for dinner at the Pembrokes, Perdita,” St. Cloud reminded her. He took out his pocket watch and consulted it. “If we leave now, we’ll not be too late. I hope you had the courtesy to send word we would be detained?”
“Of course, I did,” Perdita said crossly, fondling Hamish’s ears. “And you know very well that the Henrys will be late. They’re always late.”
“But we are not,” St. Cloud replied. “If you will please excuse us, Mr. Fleming?”
Stephen scrambled to his feet. “Thank you for your help, my lord. And please give my thanks to Mr. Arwine and George as well.”
“They were only too happy to help,” St. Cloud said, but Amanda was sure his steward and coachman would have preferred to stay inside near a fireplace rather than searching after a clergyman’s misplaced sister.
“Yes,” Amanda said. “Please give Mr. Arwine and George my thanks as well, my lord.”
St. Cloud inclined his head before heading to the door. “I’ll do that. Come, Perdita.”
Sighing, Perdita kissed the top of Hamish’s head and followed her brother into the hall. The front door clicked close and Stephen sank into his chair again. “Amanda? What did you think you were doing, riding alone?” Anger settled over his features, while frustration weighed down his usually gentle tone.
“I know, I know,” Amanda said miserably. “I’m sorry, Stephen. Please don’t scold me again. Once today was enough.”
“I’m sorry, Mandy,” he said, “but I was so terribly worried. I only have one sister. After all, who else would let me try out my sermons on them and let me know if I were getting it right?”
“There’s always Hamish,” she teased, her heart lightening at his gentler tone.
“Yes, but he’s such a silent critic, if not for you, I’d never know if I were off the mark.”
“And I’ve never been known for my silence, have I?” Amanda asked. “Now, I have some news that should make you feel better as well.”
Her spirits rose at his happy expression as she described the triumvirate’s agreement to come to tea to discuss Christmas traditions at All Souls.
“Mandy, that’s splendid of you,” Stephen praised, taking her hands and bringing them both to their feet. “I know the ladies are a bit stiff, but they’ve helped run things for so long before we arrived. Let’s try not to upset them.”
“It will be my Christmas present to you,” Amanda teased as they walked into the dining room and sat at the table.
“And speaking of Christmas presents,” Stephen said after Mrs. Crawford and Thomas had served them, “I haven’t even begun my shopping yet. What do you say we go into Chastleford later this week and spend the day in the shops? Do us good to explore it and see what’s there.”
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Amanda agreed, glad to get away from the subject of the triumvirate. Unless Stephen insisted, she was not going to buy presents for them.
But much later, lying in bed with Hamish snoring beside her, Amanda offered up a prayer, to not only try to not upset the triumvirate, but to not further annoy Cameron Hunt, the Earl of St. Cloud.
Chapter Ten
“So, shall we draw lots?” Allister Hunt flashed a smile around the breakfast table. “I’m itching to see which of us will be the one to represent the Hunt family in this year’s Christmas race.”
“You better wait for Perdita and our wives to come down to breakfast, old man, “Richard warned. “Gwenyth has already warned me. If we draw without them here, there will be the devil to pay all the way back to London. Wives, if there are any, must be present. That’s the tradition, right, Cam?”
Falling asleep in the woods and forcing people to come look for her after dark. Ridiculous. What kind of woman does such a thing?
“What would he know about wives?” Allister argued. “The man’s still a bachelor at almost thirty! Wives are as much a foreign territory to Cam as Outer Mongolia. No offense, Cam, but you can’t deny it’s true.”
From the moment you’ve arrived, Amanda Fleming, you’ve managed to keep things here in Huntingdown spinning like a top. Heaven only knows what you’ll do next.
“Cam’s problem is he’s too particular. All those beauties just dying to become his countess and he still can’t settle on one. If we wait for Cam to choose a wife, our future children will be off at university,” Richard said. “So is there ever to be a Countess St. Cloud, Cam? Don’t keep us in the dark.”
Like having me hold you in my arms again. Sitting there before me on Socrates, like a sylph, slender but strong, your scent branding itself on my skin. . .
“Cam, the library is on fire!”
“What?” Allister’s shout pulled Cam out of his reverie, bringing him halfway out of his chair. His brothers’ grins put him back. “Very funny,” he said.
“Did you hear a single word we said?” Richard teased.
“Every last syllable,” Cam retorted. “You were discussing the likelihood of my ever finding the most suitable bride to be my countess and that your children would all be at university before it happened. And Richard is right, Allister. We draw lots for the race at our own risk if the ladies aren’t present.”
Silence reigned for a moment. “Devil take it,” Richard finally said. “How could we have forgotten that he always hears everything that’s said, even when you think his mind is a thousand miles away?”
“Papa could do it too,” Allister said ruefully. “Never could get anything past him either.”
“Something you’d do well to remember.” Cam reached for the coffee pot on the table and refilled his cup while silently thanking his late father for inheriting the ability to divide his attention and still never miss a thing. “And must I remind you that over the years I have won the race five times to both of you winning only twice?”
Richard winked at Allister. “Still the same old Cameron, modest to a fault.”
“Just wait until he’s married with children,” Allister countered with a grin. “He’ll be insufferable.”
“And speaking of marriage, have you popped the question to Lucy Guest yet?” Richard put his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands. “Have we missed the reading of the banns or were you waiting for us?”
“Perdita said l
ast night that Victor Graham and Thomas Osborne dined with you at the Pembrokes.” Allister’s broad grin made him look like a schoolboy with a secret to tell. “And that could only be for one reason. They’re also interested in the fair Lucy. Do tell, Cam. How fared you against the competition? Did you shatter it completely or will you be searching about for another bride?”
“The gentlemen you mention arrived with their horses for the sleigh race,” Cam said, filling his coffee cup again. “If you wanted to observe their interest in Miss Guest, you should have arrived in time to join us instead of after midnight when we were all in our beds.”
Recalling last night at the Pembrokes, a satisfied warmth spread through him. In spite of Osborne and Graham’s gentlemanly flirtation, and Lucy’s ladylike reception of it, she made it clear that the gentlemen were wasting both their charm and their time. Her attention was fixed on Cam, and Cam only. Emmaline Pembroke’s satisfied smile was a degree short of a smirk, and Pembroke all but pulled Cam into a corner to discuss Lucy’s dowry.
But Lucy’s great aunt Adelaide had still not arrived and Pembroke knew better than to permit anyone, even Cam, to propose before that. Lucy would have refused to consider it anyway, so what was the point?
Allister’s scowl brought Cam back to the discussion at hand. “We didn’t think it would snow all the way from before Guildford to Heart’s Ease. It slowed us down considerably, which is why our wives are still in bed. And shouldn’t we send for them? We always draw lots at nine o’clock sharp.”
But Richard refused to concede the earlier point. “Is it to be Lucy, or not, Cam? Or would you have us believe that after all this time another beauty has caught your eye?”
“Good morning, everyone. Are we ready for the drawing of the lots?” Perdita’s entrance thankfully delayed Cam from having to supply an answer to his brothers’ Inquisition.
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