“Yes, sir,” said Watts. “In the meantime, Lord Jonathan has asked me to inform you that he and Lady Jonathan have driven to town this morning to meet with their solicitor. They will return some time this afternoon.”
Christopher almost smiled at his good fortune. That meant he had at least a few hours to do whatever he wanted, and what he wanted most was to enjoy the company of a certain lady. “Is Lady Harriett about?” he asked as casually as he could.
“I saw her leaving the house on my way here. She was dressed in a riding habit, which I can only assume means that she intends to exercise one of the horses.”
“Indeed.” Christopher looked down at his plate, debating between his hunger and Harriett. If he left now, he might be able to catch her.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Watts asked.
“No, I thank you.”
“Very good.” The butler bowed and left Christopher alone with his full plate. He snatched what remained of the toast, shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth, and left the room, finishing off the last of the toast as he walked out into the humid March morning. Clouds and light rains had settled over Askern sometime during the night, bringing with it a slight chill in the air, but Jonathan did not mind in the least. The dampness reminded him of the sea, and the scent of vegetation reminded him that he was glad to be away from the sea.
He strode towards the stables, but immediately slowed his steps when he spotted Harriett leaning against a wooden fence and saying something to the chestnut horse standing on the other side—Christopher’s horse. Apparently Charlie had taken Wicked out of his stall already—or, more likely, the animal had escaped sometime during the night as he often did. Only yesterday, Charlie had said that tending to Wicked was a job in and of itself.
“You are a sneaky beast, aren’t you?” Harriett said to Wicked as Christopher approached quietly from behind. “I’ve never known a horse who could free himself from his stall as easily as Charlie says that you can. According to him, you are brilliantly wicked.” She studied the horse a moment longer. “I think you must be loyal as well. Charlie also said you never stray too far from the lieutenant. Is that true? Has he earned your allegiance then? Is he a good master?”
Wicked responded by sniffing the ground.
Christopher chuckled, and the sound caused Harriett to spin around, looking like a child caught sneaking away from her studies. Christopher knew the look well. He’d worn it often throughout his childhood.
“For all his brilliance, he doesn’t speak, you know.”
“Of course I know.” Harriett’s cheeks turned a rosy hue, and Christopher had to stifle another laugh. She looked most fetching in the shade of bluish-gray she wore. She could have blended in with the sky, but she didn’t. She stood out, radiant and stunning. How had he ever missed her that first day at the side of the road?
He propped his elbows on the fence beside her and watched Wicked thoughtfully. “If you must know, I am a remarkable master. Wicked is lucky to have me. Most people would not put up with his tricks.”
She nodded. “He is quite beautiful, isn’t he? Would he allow me to ride him, do you think?”
“No.”
Under the brim of her straw bonnet, her brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“Because you are a woman.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Oh, how he enjoyed teasing her. “I don’t know for certain. Only that he has never taken to a woman before. Perhaps his mother took him to task one too many times as a foal.”
“Or perhaps you simply do not want me to ride him.”
Christopher hid another smile. “You may attempt to ride him anytime you’d like, Harriett.”
Charlie came out of the stables, leading what appeared to be a gentle brown mare. “Daisy’s ready ter go, milady,” he announced, passing the reins to Harriett. “Will you be wantin’ Wicked saddled as well, sir?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Charlie nodded and ran off to complete the task while Harriett began to stroke Daisy’s neck and talk quietly to the animal.
Christopher found the sight charming. She certainly had a way with animals, judging by how she interacted so naturally with Daisy, Wicked, and even Pippin. She did not force herself upon them. Rather, she allowed them to come to her, and in so doing earned their trust much more quickly. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if she’d already won Wicked over as well.
“You won’t mind if I join you on your ride, will you?” he asked.
“If I do?”
“Then I shall ride a respectable distance behind you so as not to infringe on your solitude.”
She laughed and smoothed her hand down her horse’s mane before giving it a final pat. “Truth be told, I’m not fond of solitude and would enjoy your company. In fact, I would love to see the parcel of land Jonathan plans to farm. I must admit that our conversation last night has intrigued me.”
Christopher tsked as though disappointed by her answer. “And I’d so hoped to avoid any and all discussions about business today. Are you certain you wish to see it?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Very well. But only if you promise to be your lively self throughout the tour. Once Jonathan begins talking business, he becomes an absolute bore.”
Her eyes twinkled playfully. “Apparently you have more mettle than I gave you credit for. I was once so certain that a tedious conversation would send you fleeing back to London directly, but now you’ve survived three entire days of tediousness and still you are here.”
Christopher watched her closely, wondering if his presence still bothered her. Did she wish him gone, or was their friendship at last progressing? He could never be sure with her. “Don’t give me too much credit. It is easy to stay when one has a good enough reason to do so.”
The look in her eye challenged him to give an honest answer. “What reason is that?” she asked.
Perhaps he ought to have used the plural form, as his answer was not so simple. There were many reasons he stayed and many reasons he felt the pull to return. But he was not ready to share them all with her, and so he settled on the answer she already knew.
“Why, a potential business opportunity, of course.”
“Of course.”
For a moment, he thought he spotted a flicker of disappointment in her expression, but she was quick to avert her gaze to the stables, and when she looked back at him, it was gone. “Would you kindly give me a leg up, Lieutenant? Here comes Charlie now.”
“Lieutenant?” he asked, his tone making it clear he didn’t care for the formality.
She smiled a little. “Would you kindly give me a leg up, Chris?”
“I would love to.” That name was definitely growing on him. Or rather, she was growing on him. Her alluring smile, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, flashed in annoyance, or fluttered self-consciously. To say he found her interesting was an understatement.
Instead of cupping his hands and giving her an actual leg up, he moved closer and caught her about the waist. She appeared startled at first, staring at him with wide eyes, but then she settled her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to lift her onto the sidesaddle. She felt soft and delicate and smelled faintly of orange blossoms. It took some restraint not to pull her off the horse and into his arms.
“‘Ere you are, sir,” interrupted Charlie with Wicked in tow. “The beast wouldn’t let me saddle ‘im ‘til I’d fed ‘im some oats.”
“Yes, that sounds like him. Thinks he’s the Prince Regent himself.”
“That ‘e does, sir,” Charlie said, shaking his head and laughing.
Christopher quickly mounted Wicked, and Harriett wasted no time touching her whip to Daisy’s right shoulder and setting off. Christopher made a mental note to tell her to leave her whip at home should she ever decide to ride Wicked. Whips made his horse skittish.
They rode to the northwest corner of Tanglewood’s property, racing across meadows and ducking through
dense wilderness areas, until they at last reached the area of land that Jonathan wished to farm. Christopher pointed out where Tanglewood’s property ended and Mr. O’Rourke’s began. Then he showed her the muddy wetlands that would prohibit expansion, and finally reined in Wicked near the edge of the pond so that she could see for herself how unfeasible it would be to attempt to drain and fill it.
“It’s nearly six meters deep in the middle,” Christopher explained.
Harriett nodded and looked to the west, across the expanse of land that Jonathan wanted to farm. “I don’t remember seeing a house in that direction. Why have I never heard of Mr. O’Rourke before?”
“Because there is no house and Mr. O’Rourke resides in Northumberland. He purchased the property over a decade ago with the intention of building a house and some tenant farms, but the war brought shortages and increased taxes, making construction too expensive. So he cut his losses and purchased an existing estate in Northumberland instead.”
A slight crease appeared between her eyebrows. “If he intended to build tenant farms, he must own a great deal of property. What are the odds he’ll be able to sell it to someone other than Jonathan in the near future? Perhaps a new owner would be more willing to part with only what Jonathan needs.”
Christopher could only shrug and venture a guess. “Jonathan mentioned that Mr. O’Rourke has been trying to sell the land since he purchased the estate in Northumberland, and from what his solicitor can find, Jonathan has been the only interested buyer during that time. He’s hoping Mr. O’Rourke is desperate enough to accept a low payment for the land.”
The crease remained between Harriett’s eyebrows. “If Jonathan does purchase the whole of it, can he not partition the land himself and sell what he does not want to keep?”
“If it comes to that, I’m certain he will try to sell the rest. But finding a buyer will not be an easy feat, at least not in the near future. That is the reason he needs to get it for a steal. He will likely be saddled with it for some time.”
She drew her lower lip into her mouth as her horse danced beneath her. She seemed to have a firm grasp on business dealings, and Christopher had the lowering thought that she could probably manage his family’s estate better than he.
Wicked began to grow antsy as well, or perhaps the animal merely sensed Christopher’s mood. Did Harriett plan to stay until she figured out some sort of resolution? She seemed quite determined.
At last she gave voice to her thoughts. “If Mr. O’Rourke is anxious to sell, and Jonathan is the only buyer who has ever come along, why does Jonathan not tell Mr. O’Rourke that he no longer wishes to purchase any land—be it a parcel or the entire property?”
Christopher frowned at the question. Was the answer not obvious? “Because he does wish to purchase it.”
“Of course, but does Mr. O’Rourke know how much he wishes it? Who is more desperate? Could Jonathan exercise a little more patience and hold off another year if needs be? Perhaps if Mr. O’Rourke comes to believe that Jonathan is not desperate, he would be willing to take a partial sum for a corner of his land rather than no sum for all of it.”
Christopher gave the matter some thought, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to think about it. Harriett had planted a very interesting seed that served to engage his mind like no other discussion on business had in the past few days. Mr. O’Rourke had suddenly become an enemy vessel and Christopher the lieutenant who could one day overtake him by means of strategy. It was now a game of wits—a battle of the minds—and Christopher had always played those games well.
Perhaps now he wouldn’t be so useless.
A slow smile stretched across his face as he looked at Harriett with new, more appreciative eyes. But he still couldn’t resist teasing her. “Why, Harry, I do believe you are even more brilliant than Wicked.”
She leveled him a glare that chastised and challenged him. “Brilliant enough to be allowed to ride him?”
Christopher chuckled. “I told you, he does not like women.”
“And I told you that he will come to like me.”
Christopher didn’t doubt it. The two probably had a great deal in common, not that he’d ever tell Harriett as much. She would never forgive him for thinking such things. “Are you wishing to ride him at this moment? Because if that is the case, I will need to switch saddles.”
“No, you’ll just need to remove yours. I do not need a saddle. Bareback will suit me just fine.”
He hesitated, wondering if she really could ride bareback well or if it was her pride speaking. Although Christopher was willing to let her on Wicked, he did not want to see her hurt. “I must warn you that two of my sisters, both excellent riders, have attempted to seat Wicked, only to be unseated moments later. I may jest about him not liking women, but it may well be the truth.”
Unperturbed, Harriett slid from her perch and tied Daisy to a nearby tree branch. She brushed her gloves together and approached Wicked, cautiously smoothing her hand down his nose and along his jaw. “You’ll allow me to ride you, won’t you, Wicked? I don’t believe you’re wicked at all, merely a tease like your master.”
Christopher swung down, knowing he would not be able to talk her out of it. He made short work of loosening the girth, removing the saddle, and tossing it over a low hanging tree branch before taking hold of the halter and staring the animal in the eye. “Treat her right, beast, or there will be no oats for you tonight.”
Harriett cocked her head at him. “My, aren’t you protective? Have a care, Chris, or I might start to think of you as a gentleman.”
He took her by the shoulders, needing to see the confidence in her eyes. “Are you certain you can ride him bareback? I’d hate for you to take a fall.”
“Are you concerned for my welfare, Chris?” The delighted sparkle in her eyes showed that she knew he was. The minx.
Uncomfortable with sentimentality, Christopher responded the way he usually did—with flippancy. “I’m worried about my own. Should you break an arm or a leg, it is I who will have to come to your rescue. Not only that, but I will likely be blamed for ruining yet another one of your garments.”
She took his jesting in stride, though her eyes contained a hint of disappointment. “In the unlikely event that I do take a fall, I promise to hold myself entirely to blame.”
He nodded, knowing her mind was set on riding the animal. With careful movements, he took her by the waist and lifted her, catching another whiff of orange blossoms in the process. He kept a hand on her back as she situated herself, hoping the finicky horse would allow her to remain. Only after she’d collected the reins did he release her and step away.
“See?” Harriett said as Wicked took a few steps backwards but did nothing more. “Your worry was for naught.”
Her whip caught Christopher’s eye as she transferred it to her right hand, and he quickly stepped forward to intervene. “Harriett, do not use your—”
Too late. She tapped Wicked’s shoulder, and the horse immediately reared. Christopher rushed forward to catch her, but she’d already slid to the ground, landing on her feet near the edge of the pond. Her arms waved in a large, circular motion before she lost her balance, squealed, and fell backwards into a shallow, marshy area.
Much to Christopher’s surprise, she did not immediately scramble to get out. Instead, she sat there, blinking as though in shock.
“You unseated me, you scoundrel!” She finally glared at the horse. “Apparently, you are very wicked indeed.”
Christopher smiled, happy to see that she seemed unharmed. He inched forward a little, trying to get close enough to offer a hand without falling in himself. “I did try to tell you that he does not like women—or perhaps it was your whip. He’s never liked those much either. Try not to take it personally.”
He probably should have kept that last part to himself because she turned her glare on him, obviously not appeased by his words. “You might have told me that before setting me on top of him
.”
“Yes, that would have been best, but I didn’t think to say anything until it was too late. Now take my hand before your habit soaks up every last drop of water.” Crouching low, he wiggled his fingers, encouraging her to accept his help.
She lifted a muddy glove and placed it in his. As he’d suspected, it felt frigid and slippery, and he made quick work of getting her out of the pond. She was drenched from her waist down, and the majority of her blue-gray dress was now a charcoal gray. He wanted to wrap his arms around her to keep her warm.
She pulled her hand from his and hugged her arms to her shivering body. “You should be glad to know that other than a ruined habit, I am unharmed and you will not be required to carry me back to Tanglewood.”
As much as he would have enjoyed holding her, he quickly pulled off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. “’Tis a relief, though I pity Daisy the task. Your skirts must weigh a great deal more than they did before.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Is that all you have to say, sir?”
“What more is there to say? You did promise that should you take a fall, you would hold yourself entirely to blame.”
She scowled. “To think that I was actually beginning to think well of you.”
That was news to him. Happy news. “Not to worry. I’m certain it’s only the cold. As soon as we get you home, it will pass and you will think well of me once more. Now let me help you onto Daisy. You must be chilled to the bone.”
He tried to put an arm around her to guide her towards her horse, but she shrugged off both his arm and his coat, handing it back to him.
“I’m no longer in need of your assistance, Lieutenant. Good day to you.”
She lifted her water-laden skirts, trudged to collect Daisy, and led her to a fallen log, which she used as a boost. After a struggle, some awkward movements, and a few unladylike expressions, she at last mounted and cantered away.
The Pursuit of Lady Harriett (Tanglewood Book 3) Page 11