She stole a quick glance at Kit, who nodded. “Very well. When do we turn north?”
“There is a major crossroad with an inn. Apparently it cannot be missed.”
“We shall see.” Kit laughed. “Generally when one says that, missing the object is the easiest thing in the world.”
That was a true statement, but when had she begun thinking of him as Kit again? Mary gave herself a shake. She needed to stop being such a pea goose.
Marcus left, leaving her and Kit alone again. After a few miles of skirting lakes, barely visible through the trees, on one side and pastures on the other, they entered dense forest.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?”
The horses must have felt her unease as well, as they picked up their pace. It couldn’t hurt for them to trot for a bit. A nervous laugh burbled out. “No. It’s just that the road reminds me of all the stories I’ve heard of highwaymen.”
“It is rather dark.” He edged closer to her, and despite her confusion about how she felt for him, she was grateful for his warmth.
A half hour later, the view opened to cultivated fields, and a large fortified building stood at the crossroad, proclaiming itself to be the Runside Inn. She and the horses heaved a collective sigh of relief. “Ah, here is our turn.”
Mary guided the pair onto the road going north.
She anticipated Kit would move away from her, but he did not, instead remarking, “I expected more sheep in this area.”
“Not at all. We have good soil in this part of the county. Wheat and various types of corn are grown here. I believe the closer to Scotland we travel, you’ll see more sheep.”
“You are . . .” He stopped, and cleared his throat. “We have another hour at least until we reach Wooler. Are you still comfortable driving?”
That hadn’t been what he was going to say, which was most likely something about the land.Drat! She was doing it again!Why could she not simply appreciate his kindness for not saying anything and accept his concern for her? “I’m fine for the present. I shall give you the ribbons when we make our pause.”
Until now, the only travel she’d experienced were the mad dashes her family made from their estate to Town, and the one to Rose Hill. It seemed none of them were capable of leisurely journeys. Cattle had been always stationed along the route and teams changed out with great speed and regularity. It was nice to finally be able to enjoy the scenery and stop at an inn for more than a quick night’s sleep or a cup of tea. There would be no changes of cattle on this road, and a couple of times, she had to remind herself to nurse the pair along so as not to blow them.
Kit entertained her with comments on their surroundings. At times comparing it with other places in England, he drew her out about her home county, which he had visited only briefly. As much as she wanted to be in a city now, Mary came to realize how much she loved being in the country. “Which do you like better, Town or the country?”
He took a few moments before answering. “Although there is much to recommend Town, the theater for example, I am more at home in the country. Each time I visit one of my father’s properties, the people in the area always make me feel welcome. I like the closeness.”
Hmph. The country ladies probably looked forward to a chance to show themselves off to him.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I love the country. Though I wish I’d had more of an opportunity to shop and visit the theater and opera.”
“I recall Huntley saying Edinburgh has a theater. It would be my pleasure to escort you.” His voice trailed off as if he didn’t know how she’d respond.
She had never heard him so unsure of himself. That must be part of what Caro had noticed. In the past, Mary would have thought Kit didn’t truly wish to accompany her. Now she saw it differently. Was it true that he was no more sure of her than she of him? “I would love it.”
Each time they passed another vehicle or a person walking along the road, Kit inclined his head and called a greeting. She had never been around anyone so genial to his fellow man as Kit was, and it gave her a warm, joyous feeling that she was with him.
Not more than two hours later, they reached the outskirts of the market town where they were stopping, and she was more than happy to pause for a while. Mary pulled up beside a footman in Huntley’s livery who had waved at them. “My lady, Mr. Maufe said to tell youwe are at the Red Lion, which has the advantage over the Black Bull.”
“Thank you.” She started the horses again. They too would be pleased to rest for a while.
“I’d be interested to know,” Kit said, “what the difference is.”
She might like to know as well, but not right now. “As long as I can walk for a while and have something to eat and drink, I do not think I care.”
“There on the left.” He pointed.
Kit’s groom was ready to take charge of the horses, while Kit lifted her down from the curricle, keeping his large hands on her waist until she got her feet back under her again. For several moments, she stared at his nicely tied cravat, which was a little silly. Mary raised her gaze to his. A smile hovered on his lips, and his eyes were as warm as his hands had been. Butterflies took up residence in her heart. “Thank you. I think I can manage now.”
