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His mother reached for Caroline’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I shall leave you now, my dear, so that I may seek out Wesley and send him to the stables with instructions to saddle Saxon and Poppy. Benedict and I shall talk again after he returns from the vicarage to determine the best day for a tea party for three.”

The relief in Caroline’s smile swept away any remaining doubts Benedict harbored over her feelings about a large gathering.

“Thank you, Lady Farwell,” she said. “That would be lovely.”

“Farewell, Meg,” his mother said. “Please give my regards to your grandfather.”

Meg nodded furiously. “And I shall tell him about falling in the water and riding Saxon.”

Benedict’s mother chuckled. She might be ill-pleased with him for speaking so bluntly in front of others, but she had quite obviously fallen under Meg’s spell. “I have no doubt he will love hearing all about your adventures, my dear. I hope you will come back to visit me very soon.”

“I will,” Meg said, attempting to hop but becoming tangled instead. “When I have my clothes on.”

Caroline’s soft moan was as good a cue as any to wrap the blanket in his hands around the child.

“Come along, then,” Benedict said, lifting Meg off the ground. “After we’ve thanked Cook for the warm milk, we shall race Wesley to the stables.”

Chapter 15

Caroline had forgotten how much she loved riding. There’d been no reason to have a horse in Portsmouth. Everything she’d needed had been within walking distance, and on the few occasions she’d traveled beyond the town, she’d gone by coach. Her father’s horse and trap was convenient for visits to his parishioners or the shop, but that practical mode of transportation could not compare to the thrill of being atop an elegant mount.

She eased her grip on the reins, content to allow Poppy to match the steady pace Benedict had set for Saxon. He rode at her right, with Meg bundled up in front of him. The gentleman had one arm wrapped securely around the child, his other hand on the reins. Meg had maintained a steady flow of excited chatter since they’d left the stables and was now pointing to something in the nearby field. When Benedict nodded and responded with a smile, Caroline’s heart warmed. She did not need to hear the words they exchanged to recognize his kindness.

Looking away, she attempted to sort through her muddled emotions. Meg had never taken to a gentleman the way she’d taken to Benedict. Because Caroline had not spent enough time with Fred to develop a relationship of any depth, Benedict’s attentive consideration had opened a whole new world to her. And although his thoughtfulness touched Caroline greatly, it also scared her.

An attachment between him and Meg could not last. Despite the lecture he’d given his mother in the kitchen, Benedict would ultimately take a wife, and when he did, the attention he could offer Meg would, of necessity, wane to nothing. Caroline ached at the thought. Meg would be crushed, and there would be no easy way for Caroline to explain that kind of change in their relationship.

“I see grandpapa’s house!” Meg cried.

The gray-tiled roof came into view over the hedgerow, a thin stream of smoke floating skyward from the kitchen chimney. Caroline smiled, grateful for the feeling of homecoming she still experienced at the sight of the peaceful vicarage.

“I shall have to apologize to your father for your late return,” Benedict said.

“I think it is I who should be apologizing,” Caroline responded. “Meg’s mishap kept you from the afternoon milking.”

“By way of full confession, I am not truly so tied to participating in the milking as my mother believes.”

“Ah.” Caroline raised her eyebrows at his unexpected revelation. “So, if you are not always in the milking parlor, where else do you go to avoid unwelcome social gatherings?”

He eyed her warily. “How do I know you will not share such information with my mother over a cup of tea?”

“Because you and I are allies in our opposition of large tea parties.”

“And you may need a hiding place too?”

“Without a doubt,” she said. “But I would hope that the vicarage is a safe enough spot for me.”

“Hm.” He appeared thoughtful, but she caught the humor in his eyes. “I shall have to add the vicarage to my list of bolt-holes.”

“You have an extensive list, then?”

“I would not say extensive, exactly, but it is remarkable how time-consuming the apple orchard, wheat fields, and ledgers in my father’s office can be,” he said. “Especially around four o’clock.”

Caroline laughed. How Benedict had turned her fear of meeting people into something they could tease about, she did not know. But it made her feel less alone than she had in a long time. “Thank you, Benedict.”

His brows came together. “For sharing my hiding places?”

“Not just that.” Suddenly, her true reason felt foolish. “Meg and I had a wonderful day today.”