Page 39 of Return to Satterthwaite Court

“I did,” he replied grimly. “It was my mother’s childhood home. Satterthwaite is her maiden name.”

“Fascinating,” Kate murmured. “And the house itself? I presume it was entailed away from the female line.”

“It was. My great-grandfather, Sir Charles, would have left it to my mother otherwise. Instead, it went to a distant relation. A man by the name of Edgar Townsend.”

“You must have been close with your great-grandfather.”

“I never knew him. He died before I was born.”

“But you’re named after him, aren’t you?”

Lieutenant Heywood gazed out the window, surveying the passing landscape. He was in an odd mood, both self-possessed and distracted. “My mother christened me in his honor. Sir Charles was the only family she ever knew. A good man, I’m told. He was knighted for services to the crown at the end of the last century. My mother loved him dearly.”

“Is that why you want to buy the house?” Kate asked.

The lieutenant hadn’t yet presented an offer, but neither had he flinched when Mr. Arbogast had disclosed the amount Mr. Catmull was asking for the property—some fifteen thousand pounds. It was no small sum.

Lieutenant Heywood must have a sizeable fortune to his name.

Kate had never before given the matter any thought. She’d been more interested in the lieutenant’s heroism than in the size of his bank account. But it didn’t hurt that he was a man of means. If she decided to continue pursuing him…

If.

Mama had warned her against making a fool of herself. Kate feared she’d already done so. It wasn’t an attractive quality, to be seen desperately chasing after a gentleman who was indifferent to oneself.

Kate slid him another assessing look as the carriage continued its slow circuit around the estate. Was he indifferent? She couldn’t entirely tell.

He bore no resemblance to the fawning admirers she’d had in London. Gentlemen who had sent her flowers after dancing with her at a ball. Who had complimented her and flirted with her in the established manner, though they’d never seemed to like her very much as a person.

Unlike the lieutenant.

He hadn’t flirted with her or complimented her. From the first, he’d been curt, gruff, and downright rude. Insulting, even. Any other young lady would have washed her hands of him the instant he accused her of writing that letter.

But Kate was accustomed to rudeness. She’d been raised amid the rough and tumble of her three older brothers. She flattered herself that her skin was as thick as a horse’s hide.

And anyway, she hadn’t yet acted out of desperation. Her recent decisions had been made with the same assertiveness a gentleman might employ when conducting his pursuit of a lady.

A successful pursuit by all accounts.

She was here now, after all, alone in a closed carriage with the same heroic soldier who had captured her fancy in London.

And there was a mystery in the offing.

She wouldn’t ruin the experience by second-guessing herself.

“I do want the house,” Lieutenant Heywood said. “I intend to make an offer for it, once I ascertain that this Catmull person has the legal right to be selling the place.” He cast an unreadable glance at Kate. “You recognized his name.”

Her lips compressed. She hated to think of Mr. Catmull at any time, least of all when she was in company with Lieutenant Heywood. “Mr. Catmull is an associate of my friend Miss Mattingly’s fiancé, Sir Lawrence Glade. They’re investors in a canal scheme together.”

“You don’t know him personally?”

“Well enough. He was introduced to me during the season and has been chasing after me rather relentlessly ever since. I understand he’s seeking a rich wife.”

Lieutenant Heywood evinced no reaction to this information. Indeed, his face was suddenly absent expression.

“Have I shocked you?” Kate asked.

“Why should you have?”