AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘What is wrong, Stephanie? You are practically in tears.’ Hattie covered Stephanie’s hand with hers. ‘Was Harold cruel? He doesn’t mean to be cutting. He does want the best for Livvy.’
‘I fear it might be happening again. I have been ill every morning for the last week. If it had not been for the fair, I’d have stayed in bed, but someone had to support dear Mr Parteger. He expects me to be there for him on that day of all days. Then you went and recklessly endangered your reputation with rescuing Sir Christopher after that dreadful fight where you needlessly exposed yourself. No one cares about my nerves.’
Hattie closed her eyes. Stephanie pregnant. Again. She had half-hoped to suggest to Kit that they travel or arrange to meet abroad. And she’d even toyed with going down to London next spring for the entire Season...if their affair lasted that long. However, if Stephanie was pregnant, it would mean a baby in the late spring, and she knew how much Stephanie counted on her help.
‘We shall cross that bridge when it comes.’
‘But Livvy and her Season. It has been promised. Livvy is over the moon with excitement.’ Stephanie dabbed the handkerchief to her eyes and gave a rather pathetic sniff. ‘I will need you here. No one understands me and my babies like you do. But I dislike the thought of Livvy being without support and guidance.’
‘I could go.’
‘Of course you could go, Livvy respects your opinion, more than mine. But...how am I going to run the house? You are my sister and the only person that Harold truly tolerates.’
Hattie sighed. She knew that she had to stay, if only to ensure her brother-in-law’s sanity. It did make things easier. If Kit asked, she’d explain. And if he didn’t, she was safe in the knowledge that she could not have gone anyway. She curled her fists.
‘Mrs Hampstead could stay with you. She is far more useful than I on such matters,’ Hattie said more in hope than expectation. The colour drained from Stephanie’s face. ‘But Joyce should be willing to sponsor Livvy. Livvy and Joyce’s eldest niece are close in age. It will give her someone to have as a friend. These affairs can be awfully daunting if you have to go alone.’
Instantly Stephanie’s countenance cleared. ‘You are right of course. It is about time our sister-in-law did something for this family. It is not as if they are troubled by us much.’
Hattie squeezed Stephanie’s hand. Remorse washed over her. Stephanie always dreadfully suffered in the first few months of a pregnancy. What she was asking was not too difficult. It was simply that for once she wanted a little time to live her own life. She pushed the thought away.
‘You must concentrate on the new life. I will make sure everything runs smoothly.’
‘You are so good to me, Hattie. I couldn’t ask for a better sister.’
‘I try.’ Hattie nodded towards where the baskets of strawberries stood. ‘I have an appointment in the still room. It is that time of the year. Jams, jellies, tinctures and a wide variety of gins await preparation. It gives me an outlet for my energy.’
Stephanie put her handkerchief to her face. ‘I can’t bear the thought of the jam bubbling, particularly not now.’
‘You always did prefer the eating of jam to the making of it.’
Stephanie had the grace to blush.
* * *
Kit rode his new stallion, Onyx, hard. He enjoyed the freedom and excercise after weeks of inactivity.
When he woke up this morning with the memory of Hattie’s mouth moving under his, he resolved that he’d stay away for a little while. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in her life or for her to start to depend on him. He knew what women could be like. The rules of engagement were strict and developed after years of practice.
He reached the ridge above Pearl Cottage. He looked down at the little house with its curl of smoke. Something struck in the gut. His tenant, Mrs Reynaud,
was down there in that cottage but her identity remained a mystery.
He had spent the majority of the day going through his uncle’s papers while he tried not to think about Hattie and what she might be doing. As he suspected, the woman who had rented the cottage did not go by the name of Reynaud, but another name altogether: Smith. The tenancy agreement was odd to say the least and his uncle had ensured that Mrs Smith could never be thrown out of the cottage. According to his estate manager, the quarterly rent was always paid on time from a London bank. His Uncle John had overseen the details personally.
Kit bent down and patted Onyx’s neck. The horse blew out his breath.
