Page 38 of A Lady of Conscience

Hannah came to a disgruntled halt.

“He will,” James replied. “He’s a capable hand with the horses.”

“Curricles can be dangerous,” Mrs. Heywood said. “I shall rely on you to bring my daughter back safely.”

“I’m sure Lord St. Clare is an excellent driver, Mama,” Hannah said.

“I won’t let her come to harm,” James assured Mrs. Heywood. “You may rely on me.”

Captain Heywood looked at him steadily. “You and I will speak again when you return.”

James solemnly returned his gaze. The last meeting he’d had with Hannah’s father hadn’t been a very encouraging one. In hindsight, James supposed that Captain Heywood had known how Hannah would respond to a proposal of marriage. The fact that James hadn’t abandoned his suit after her rejection was likely cause for fatherly concern.

“I’m at your disposal, sir,” he said.

Hannah gave her father a look of entreaty. “We should leave directly. Wouldn’t you think so, Papa? The donkey is a little fellow and can’t be made to trot too quickly.”

“Naturally not,” Captain Heywood said.

A short moment later, James was handing Hannah up into his waiting curricle. Bill was in his full livery for the occasion. He held the horses as they stamped with impatience. Even the donkey was twitching its tail, eager to be off. His head no longer drooped with resignation. His expression was alert, his eyes shining and his nose raised to the wind.

Hannah regarded the little beast with a smile of amazement. “You’ve had him groomed!”

“All credit to Bill.” James climbed up beside her. “He had charge of him for the night.”

“I’m obliged to you, Bill,” Hannah said to the tiger. “He looks an entirely different animal.”

Bill reddened. He was just a lad from the Beasley Park estate, scarcely ten years of age, and not accustomed to dealing with ladies. He muttered something about “just doing his duty” before retreating to his perch at the back of the curricle. From there, he could keep a close eye on the donkey as they traveled.

James started the horses.

Hannah pressed a hand to her bonnet as they surged forward. “The Fallkirks will be elated. I know I would be if one of my missing pets was returned to me unexpectedly.”

“A happy circumstance that you encountered him as you did.”

“Indeed, it was. To think, I nearly passed him without a second look. I was that focused on posting my article.”

He gave her an interested glance as he drove the curricle. “What article?”

“A piece I’m contributing to the Animal Advocate on the importance of feeding one’s cats. Many people don’t feed them, you know. They presume a cat will hunt for their own supper. But not every cat is capable of hunting.”

“That much I do know,” James said. “My sister has two cats. I’m convinced they subsist on minced meat and cream.”

Hannah smiled again. “Tabby and Major. I remember them well.”

“Do you keep cats at Heywood House?” James asked. He couldn’t recall seeing any outside the stables.

“Not in the house. It wouldn’t be fair to them. Not with so many dogs in residence.”

“How many dogs altogether?”

“Let me see.” She appeared to perform a silent count in her head. “Six at the moment, not including the working dogs. Though that number is apt to change if the need arises.”

“Do you anticipate keeping as many when you set up house of your own?”

She abruptly lowered her eyes.

James silently cursed himself for an idiot. It was an ill-conceived question. Ill-timed as well. All it had done was remind her of the true purpose of their being together this morning. And it wasn’t for them to return the donkey to its rightful owners. It was for them to become better acquainted, with a view toward matrimony.