Page 43 of Return to Satterthwaite Court

She hid a smile. “Would I? Even when wearing a veil?”

“If you’re fishing for a compliment—”

“I would never. Besides,” she added, “I’m fully aware I’m not at my best at the moment.”

He flashed her a glance. “Rubbish,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

Kate’s heart thumped hard. Not you look beautiful, but you are beautiful. The distinction wasn’t lost on her.

She was tempted to compliment him in kind. To tell him how heroic he was. How excessively brave. The way he’d reacted to that rifle shot! He’d pulled her to safety so swiftly it had made her head spin. His reflexes were truly something marvelous to behold.

But Charles Heywood didn’t seem like the kind of gentlemen who would appreciate excessive praise. He was too self-effacing. Too noble.

And Kate had no desire to make a ninny of herself.

“You’re very generous in your praise,” she said instead.

“No one’s ever accused me of that before,” he replied as they returned to the carriage.

“Everything all right, sir?” the coachman called down to them. “I heard a shot.”

Kate avoided the man’s eyes. The giant oak was visible from the road, albeit at a distance. It was entirely possible the coachman had seen Charles haul her to the ground and cover her body with his. As compromising positions went, it couldn’t get much worse.

“Some careless fool was shooting in the woods.” Charles opened the door of the carriage. He helped Kate into the cab. “If you would be so kind as to return us to The White Horse in Gold Street.”

“What about seeing the rest of the estate?” Kate asked.

Charles climbed in after her. “Another time. We’ve lingered too long already.”

Settling back in her seat across from him, Kate owned to a bit of disappointment. She wasn’t yet ready for their adventure—or for their newfound closeness—to come to an end.

But whatever intimacy their near brush with death had conjured dissipated rapidly during their return journey to Tiverton. Kate’s attempts at rekindling it proved futile at best.

“Why did you leave the Navy?” she asked once the carriage had left Satterthwaite Court behind them and was well on its way back to town.

“It’s complicated,” Charles said. He didn’t appear keen to discuss the matter.

Kate was undeterred. “You were a sailor for a long while, weren’t you?”

“Nearly nine years.”

“Nine years!” she repeated. “And all of them at sea?”

“I spent the first two at the Royal Naval College at Portsmouth.”

“Oh yes,” Kate recalled. “Mr. Trumble mentioned something about that.”

Charles gave her a dangerous look. “Did he.”

“He said you gave up your place at Cambridge.”

An endless pause. “I did.”

“Why? Did you have a sudden yen to take to the sea?”

He gazed out the window with an impassive frown. “I had a thirst for adventure. More fool I.”

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying an adventure.”