Martin maneuvered his way beside the party putting on wraps and cloaks in the corridor and stepped in to guide Miss Kingston’s hand to his own arm. After leading her outside he received a blessed few moments with her alone before they were joined by Peter and Mrs. Nielsen, Mr. Balham having finally disappeared.
“Perhaps I may call on you tomorrow?” Martin asked as he helped Miss Kingston up the carriage step.
“I should like that. Only, perhaps not too early,” she said, chuckling.
Martin delivered a handsome bow and moved aside for Mrs. Nielsen. He stood beside his brother and watched as the carriage was closed up and began rolling away.
“Say, Martin,” Peter began, his hands clasped behind his back as he rocked on his feet, watching the carriage in much the same way that Martin was. “Care to explain why two of my horses are pulling Miss Kingston’s carriage?”
“I owed her a favor,” Martin replied simply.
Peter turned and gave him a searching look, his eyebrow raised. “And she accepted this gift so easily? You must forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe what you want,” Martin said with a shrug. He loved knowing something that Peter did not know. Of course, it wasn’t nearly as sweet as the blow he was about to deliver.
“And what was this immense favor? She has only lived at Split Tree for two months now.”
“It was not a favor acquired in the last few months,” Martin said easily, watching as the lantern swinging on the carriage grew dimmer and dimmer before turning out of sight. He shifted, looking his brother square in the face. “It was from a long time ago when she risked her neck to save me from two savage boys intent on doing me harm in the woods.”
Confusion clouded his brother’s brow and Martin waited patiently for the realization to hit. Understanding dawned in Peter’s eyes, and his jaw went slack. Martin had to work excessively to hold in his grin. “Of course, those were her words. But neither of us have ever forgotten how we bonded that day through our pure hatred of those who willingly abuse another man. Or woman.”
Martin left his brother with that parting shot and strolled back into the house. He had not gotten this far in life from his lack of intelligence, and it had been clear to him that while Peter made special care not to single Miss Kingston out, the man’s eyes had followed her the entire night. But she had preferred Martin’s company. The win was a sweet wash over Martin and made him appreciate Miss Kingston all the more.
The rest of the party had moved into three separate games of whist by the time he returned, and he stationed himself near the Smithson’s table, watching and flirting while keeping an eye out for Peter. When his brother finally returned to the drawing room, he looked pleasant and social. Almost too pleasant, and certainly too social. Martin soared. He could not wait to see what this new information did to bring Peter down a notch in the world. The man was just too conceited. It was delightful to know that Martin still held the power to lower Peter’s ridiculously high opinion of himself.
Now to just let this eat at Peter until the precise opportunity arrived to mention it to Miss Kingston, and she would dissolve, securing Martin’s place by her side. He smiled to himself with the surety that she would be running to his arms within a matter of days, a week or two at most. And he couldn’t wait.
21
Kate
The world was still waking when Kate went outside to see her horse. She had gone from being afraid to ride to caring so deeply about the animal in such a short time—it was amazing what conquering a fear could lead to. She was determined to name her horse today, and it was while making plans to ride out to the location for the orchard that it came to her; she would call her Apple.
It had been an easy thing to decide on planting an apple orchard. They were hearty trees and according to the books lent by Mr. Balham, had more likelihood of success in her particular region. But it would not stop her from finding a wonderful location for a plum tree somewhere on her property. Alice would not let the matter drop until she did, anyway. And she would be glad of the plum cake.
Kate leaned an arm over the gate on Apple’s stall and smoothed her neck. She had surprised herself when she had awoken early that morning, especially after the late night they’d had at the dinner party. It worked out for the best, though, since Peter was not planning on coming to ride this morning, and Kate could go out before breakfast.
She’d had an unsettling feeling since leaving Evanslea the night before, but she could not quite place it. She was being courted, and it was such a remarkable, breathtaking feeling to be desired—something she’d never before experienced. And yet, unease had taken residence within her during the dinner party and had refused to leave her be.
The trouble was, she was not unhappy with Martin’s attentions, so she failed to understand what caused her the discomfort. She had told Emily of Mr. Evans’s desire to call on her today, and when she thought of his dashing smile a flurry swirled in her midsection.
She inhaled a deep breath. This fresh air would clear her head, she hoped.
A groom saddled Apple for Kate while she waited, then placed a mounting block beside her. She situated herself on the saddle with a little more ease than she had the day before, and slowly walked Apple out of the stables. A groom had been commissioned to accompany her, and she did not complain about his company. It made her feel a little less uneasy being in the unfenced wild as such a new rider. He hung back a little distance to give her the illusion of isolation, but she liked knowing he was nearby should she need him.
Kate swung Apple in an arc around the house toward the empty fields. They had once been grazed by a good many sheep, and she tried to picture her father out there with them, shepherding his flock and watching over the land. Whether or not he actually would have done this, Kate liked to imagine it.
The serene image touched her soul, the faint breeze dancing across her, tickling her jaw like her father might have done, had he been here. The sun crested over the side of the earth, and Kate could see the frost beginning to melt. Her face warmed in the new sun and she breathed in a deep gulp of the crisp morning air, enjoying it before the heat of the day melted it away.
A figure on a horse passed over a nearby hill, disturbing her daydreams. She startled before recognition set in, warming her like a comforting cup of chocolate. It was far easier to feel content atop the saddle when Peter was nearby, and even more of a treat when she had not expected to see him that morning. It was really too bad Mr. Evans didn’t enjoy riding as much as his brother did. She would have liked to see him this morning, as well.
She expertly maneuvered Apple to meet her friend and gave him a wide grin.
“I did not expect to see you this morning.”
“Nor I, you,” Peter said, coming to a pause beside her. Domino was a good deal larger than Apple, and Peter’s added height caused him to tower over her.
“Must I inquire why you are trespassing?” Kate said playfully.
He gave a nervous chuckle and said, “I am not sure, to be honest. I was discussing your plans for the apple orchard with Mr. Balham and thought to take a look at the proposed fields this morning.”
“I am headed there now. Shall we go together?”
Peter nodded, turning Domino to fall in line beside her.
Kate looked over the hills as the sun began to thaw the glittering frost and create a sparkling effect. It was magical, and she was hit with an overwhelming gratitude for the home she was making her own. She turned toward her neighbor, a very kind man that willingly shared his opinions with her and listened in return. It was not something Kate had experienced before, and she wondered again if this was what it felt like to have a brother. “You are taking a great deal of interest in my land.”
“Yes.” He searched her face before continuing. “I find I must do things to occupy my time, or my mind suffers.”
Kate understood. It was the very reason she had spent so much time weeding the kitchen garden while the gar
deners were taking care of more important things. She could not sit idle. “And Evanslea does not keep you occupied?”
“It most certainly does.” Peter chuckled, though his smile was tight. “But a new campaign like this is much more interesting.”
“Are my fields something to be conquered, then?”
“In a sense, absolutely.”
Kate studied her friend. She had the feeling that though he seemed composed, there was something troubling him. His playful words lacked levity and his smile seemed the least bit strained. “You must think in those terms easily after your years in the military.”
“I am afraid it is ingrained in me.”
“And yet you are not there…” Kate bit her tongue. She was prying now, and it was not only unladylike, but it was unfriendly as well. If Peter wished to confide in her, that was his choice. She should not have pressed him, and she wished she could swallow those words back up. She searched for something to say to easily guide the conversation onto safer ground, but her mind was at a complete loss.
“I am not there now,” he finished anyway. She turned to him and saw the strain in his eyes, the anger that glittered, turning them from a soft blue-gray to thunder and steel. She would never wish to be on the wrong side of such passionate dislike—but with Peter that would never be a concern.
“We need not discuss this, Peter,” Kate said gently. “It was wrong of me to pry.”
Peter stopped Domino, and she pulled on her reins to come even with him. He gave her a serious, hard look, though not unkind; it was as though his thoughts were heavy, and he was determining whether or not to burden her with them. “I was injured and sent home right after Napoleon was exiled. I had thought the war over—I think a great many of us did. And when I came home and saw that I was needed here, I sold out, hoping to heal in peace and finally fulfill my duty to my father and the estate.”
“That is very noble of you.”
“It is noble to be shot in the arm?” Peter said, a self-mocking bite to his voice.
“Yes, it is noble to be injured fighting for King and Country. But I am referring to your desire to take your place as the leader of Evanslea. For your family, your future posterity, it is not wrong to take an interest in the bettering of your home and legacy.”
He faced her, speaking softly. “Is that how you have justified coming back to Split Tree when the idea was so repugnant to you?”
Kate was startled by his words. Of course he knew that she was struggling with letting go of the memory of her uncle, for she had mentioned it to him. “I suppose so. I must think of how the estate was when my father owned and ran it, and how he would want me to prepare it for future generations. My uncle was a small mark on a greater story, and soon he shall be erased completely.”
“You are scrubbing his mark from the estate, I assume. Have you chosen a design for the parlor then?”
“Yes,” she said, giving him an arch look from the corner of her eye as their horses resumed walking. “But do not be conceited that I agree with you on the simple layout. I believe it is elegant and will be a great starting point for the redecoration.”
Peter grinned, and it did her heart good, like every smile he sent her way filled her reserve a little more. This had to be what having a family felt like—that comfortable, encouraging joy one received from another person. Kate did not wonder if Peter enjoyed her company, if she was saying the right thing, or smiling too wide, she merely felt at ease in his presence. Emily had provided this for her over the years but receiving this sort of encouragement from a man—an equal—was different.
They arrived at the fields and spent some time going over potential boundary lines and discussing how many trees they could feasibly fit in the area. By the time they were finished Kate was sore from the saddle and in need of a break. She unhooked her leg and slid down from Apple, pulling the horse’s reins over her head to lead her on.
“I am still getting used to riding so frequently. I’m afraid my legs need a stretch.”
Peter slid down easily and fell into step beside her.
“You need not walk with me, Peter. I have my groom, and I am sure after a few minutes I’ll be ready to ride Apple the rest of the way home.”
“A fitting name,” Peter said. “And not much of a surprise.”
“Oh, do you like it? I only thought of it this morning.”
They walked halfway back to Split Tree discussing the best and worst horse names they had heard when Peter grew quiet, wistful. Calm enveloped them a moment before Peter spoke, his voice serious. “I never thought I would inherit Evanslea.” His gaze flicked to her, hesitating, before he swallowed. “When our older brother was killed in a reckless carriage accident racing a friend of his a few years ago, it came as a great shock to all of us. But I think my father most of all. It was eventually his downfall. I know it is a strange concept, but I am certain he died from disappointment.”
“I am sorry,” Kate said, unable to help the sheen of tears that filmed her eyes and pricked her nose. She’d had no idea that Peter and Mr. Evans had an older brother. “Your father must have been heartbroken.”
“I believe it was more a case of realizing that the son he brought up to take over everything was gone, and his legacy was going to fall into the hands of the less than capable middle son.”
“Surely not,” Kate said, troubled on his behalf. “There could be no better man to care for the people and estate than you. Your military training aside, you are more than capable.”
“You need not flatter me, Kate. I understand that I was not blessed with the cunning of my brothers, nor a head for numbers and business and such. It is why I rely so heavily on Mr. Balham.”
“It does not make you a lesser man to understand your strengths and weaknesses.” Kate slowed to a stop and looked Peter in the eye, her head tilted and her gaze willing him to know that she was sincere. “Surely you know that it only builds your character to recognize where you are limited and to have the humility to allow yourself to rely on others. None of us are meant to do everything alone.”
Peter studied her, and she found herself closer to him than she realized, his scent lifting on the breeze and tickling her nose—shaving soap and the outdoors. She caught a trace of emotion in his eyes and wished it would not be inappropriate to pull him into a hug. Human connection was not something she’d had regularly in her life, and the sudden desire for it now shocked her.
“You appear stunned,” Peter said softly, his brows knit together. “Whatever can you be thinking?”
Kate hated that she felt her cheeks grow warm. Now it could not possibly matter what she would say. Hopefully Peter would be a gentleman and let it go.
“Now I really must know,” he said with no little amusement.
Kate turned away and began fitting her hand to the pommel of the saddle. “You know, I believe I am ready to ride the rest of the way.”
Peter chuckled and she felt it through her back as he came behind her. His hands fit around her waist and he lifted her into the saddle, searing her skin where they touched. She refused to look in his eyes as she got herself situated and arranged her skirts around her legs. She waited for him to leave, to mount Domino, but he remained standing beside Apple.
“It’s quite a novelty to look up at a woman,” he said.
Kate laughed, unable to help herself and the tension drained away. “Yes, I imagine monsters of men are not quite used to that feeling.”
Peter shot her a rueful glance before turning away, reseating his horse in one fluid motion. “Shall we race back?”
“Not on your life,” Kate shouted as Peter flew away. She watched him exercise Domino with no little wonder, contemplating if she would ever feel comfortable enough to push Apple to breakneck speed. Perhaps one day she would, but for now she was content to canter.
Kate had enough time to change out of her riding habit and consume a small breakfast before Mr. Evans was announced. She met him in the parlor with Emily who sat in a
chair near the window with her novel from the lending library, doing her duty as a chaperone while giving them adequate space.
It was a strained beginning, for Mr. Evans had only a few small remarks to make about the appearance of the house. It was left to Kate to lead them into a comfortable conversation about the dinner party the night before. Their topics ranged from Mr. Horace’s wild, frizzy hair to the fantastic cut of lamb prepared by the Evanses’ cook. The proper thirty minutes was observed, and Mr. Evans took his leave after begging permission to take her driving on Saturday.
“I should love to, but where does one go for a drive in the country? I have only once been to London on a holiday with my headmistress, but I recall the fashionable set driving around the parks.”
“There is a lovely vista only thirty minutes north with a view that will steal your breath. Trust me,” he added in a lower voice. “It is stunning.”
“Shall we make up a party?” Kate asked hesitantly. She knew riding in an open phaeton was above reproach, but spending time alone admiring a vista seemed questionable.
“That is a grand idea,” Mr. Evans responded, to her relief. “What do you think, Mrs. Nielsen?”
“I think that sounds lovely,” Emily said, raising her head from her book briefly to give him a smile. “I confess I would not mind if Mr. Balham was in attendance—I had the most diverting conversation with him at dinner last night.”
Mr. Evans looked stunned. He recovered quickly, his mouth flattening into a thin line. “I will see what I can pull together.”
“And a picnic?” Kate added. “Perhaps we should make an outing of it.”
“Splendid idea, Miss Kingston. I shall have my cook put something together.”
A Forgiving Heart Page 14