Chapter Twenty-Seven
The ice-covered grass crunched under Julian’s boots as he walked across the lower field. It was not long after dawn, so the sun, hidden by low clouds, had made little headway in melting the frozen night rain.
Beside him Caroline walked, humming a happy tune to herself. Midas, who was coming along to help with the hunt, kept close to her heels. Francis, James, and Harry walked on ahead of them. Every so often, Julian caught Harry looking back over his shoulder and stealing a look at Caroline.
If she knew Harry was trying to capture her attention, Caroline hid it. She carried her hunting rifle under her left arm, having politely refused all offers for one of the others to carry it. “I love the early morning. The air is so crisp,” she said.
Julian pulled a hip flask out from his coat pocket, slipped off the lid, and handed it to her.
She smiled. “It’s not whisky, is it?”
“No. Since I was made aware of your checkered history with it, I have made a solemn vow to only carry the finest French brandy in my hip flask,” he replied.
She took a sip, then nodded her approval. “Thank you, that is very kind.”
A flutter of warmth went through Julian’s body as he watched Caroline take a second, longer drink. She licked her lips, then handed the flask back.
Julian downed a mouthful of the brandy, trying desperately not to think about how much he would love to taste those rose-red lips of hers.
At the end of the field, they crossed over into a narrow laneway. Midas trotted ahead, no doubt happier to walk on the dry patches of the lane rather than the wet grass of the field. But when Harry made an effort to drop back in the group, and try to talk to Caroline, Midas bared his teeth and growled. Harry quickly retreated.
“I don’t think Midas likes Harry,” noted Caroline.
That makes two of us.
Julian stifled a satisfied grin. With a rifle tucked under her arm, and a pair of thick walking boots on her feet, she seemed perfectly at home in the chilly Derbyshire countryside.
“Do you hunt often?” he asked.
“Only in Scotland. The whole extended Radley family are big on hunting and fishing when we are at Strathmore Castle. The only thing I am not allowed to hunt are the wild boars. ‘Too risky for young ladies to go chasing after them in long skirts,’ or something to that effect. Papa won’t even let me be a beater,” she replied.
There was a distinct note of disappointment in her voice, and Julian suspected that given half the chance, Caroline would take on a wild Scottish boar. He was relieved that the most dangerous animals that could be hunted in the grounds of Newhall Castle were the local deer. From the easy way she carried her rifle, he sensed Caroline would be more than up to that challenge.
They rounded a bend, and Julian pursed his lips and whistled. The others ahead of them stopped and waited. He pointed toward a nearby thicket. It was the prime place on the Newhall estate for grouse to hide.
He bent down and spoke to Midas. “Softly now, boy. Walk ahead and find us some supper.”
The dog trotted off and headed into the trees. Julian took the lead, with Caroline following closely. Francis, James, and Harry brought up the rear.
At the bottom of a tree in the center of the thicket, they found Midas standing as still as a stone. At the sound of a rifle being cocked, Julian turned and caught sight of Harry readying to take aim. He pointed at Harry’s rifle and then to the ground.
With a roll of his eyes, Harry lowered his weapon. Julian nodded to Caroline, who quietly readied her rifle. With her heavily bandaged left hand sitting loosely on the side of the rifle she aimed for the top of the tree, then stopped and lowered it.
“I can’t hold it properly. It is not safe,” she said.
Julian cocked his own rifle. The insufferable Harry Menzies could wait his turn. “Can you see the birds?”
He leaned in close to her, and allowed Caroline to point out the grouse. He could see them quite clearly, roosting on the low branches of the tree, but the temptation to tell a little white lie in order to get closer to her was too much to resist.
He caught a hint of her perfume as he took a deep breath. For a moment he wished all the world away. “Ah yes, I see them,” he said.
“Good. Swing ahead, and shoot a yard to the left of them once Midas has stirred them from cover,” she said.
“Come on, Newhall. We don’t have all day,” said Harry.
Julian indulged in one last deep breath of Caroline’s scent before reluctantly stepping away. He turned to Midas and gave a short whistle.
At Julian’s signal, Midas leapt into the bushes. A rustle of leaves followed as the grouse stirred from their hiding place in the tree. Julian lifted his rifle and shot at the exact spot that Caroline had pointed out. He hit the first bird and brought it down cleanly.
