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“Then I shall tell her the truth.” He winced as he brought the glass up to his lips. “Or at least the partial truth.”
“I just feel—”
Oliver cut him off. “You have no say in my decision,” he declared. “It is mine, and mine alone.”
Baldwin walked around his desk and sat down. As he reached for a ledger, he said, “If you do decide to take the assignment, rest assured that I will ensure Emmeline is well taken care of while you are gone.”
“Thank you,” Oliver said. “That does provide me with much relief.”
“It would be my privilege.”
Oliver placed his glass onto the drink cart. “I suppose I should inform Pratt that I intend to travel to Whitstable tomorrow.”
“Will you ride your horse or take the coach?”
“I intend to ride, but a coach will need to follow with my trunks,” Oliver responded.
Baldwin gave him a curious look. “How long do you plan to stay in Whitstable?”
“I’m not sure, but long enough for me to convince Emmeline to return to Hawthorne House.”
“I wish you luck,” Baldwin said as he opened a ledger.
“I do not require luck.” Oliver walked over to the door and opened it. “Emmeline is a rational young woman. I have no doubt she will succumb to my reasons for returning home.”
After he departed from the room, Oliver hoped there was some truth behind the words that he had just spoken.
Chapter Fourteen
Emmeline raced herhorse along the cliffs near her manor as she reveled in the air blowing on her face. She felt at peace at Lockhart Manor, as if she somehow had always belonged here. A smile burst forth on her lips as she reined in her horse and watched the water sparkle as the morning sun reflected off the waves.
She had been at Lockhart Manor for four days now, and she wasn’t sure when she planned to return to Hawthorne House. Frankly, she didn’t want to leave. At least, not yet. She wanted to continue to relish in the freedom that was afforded to her here. Not only was she the mistress of the manor, but the villagers had been very welcoming when she had visited their shops.
A twinge of sadness came into her heart at leaving Oliver behind, but that was to be expected. She cared about him deeply, but he hadn’t even bothered to see her off from Hawthorne House. It mattered not, she told herself. Eventually, she would have to accept her husband’s errant ways but, for now, she would not dwell on such unpleasant things.
Turning her horse towards Lockhart Manor, Emmeline kicked it into a run. It wasn’t long before she arrived at the stable. In a swift motion, she effortlessly dismounted and reached for the reins.
The young groom approached her and placed his hand out to collect her horse. “I have never seen a lady ride quite like you before, milady.”
“And how is that?”
“Fearless,” the groom replied.
Emmeline ran her hand down the neck of the brown gelding. “I suppose this horse brings it out of me.”
“Survivor is a fine horse.”
“Survivor?” she repeated back. “May I ask who named him?”
The groom smiled at the horse as it tossed its head back. “When Survivor was born, he wasn’t breathing, and everyone thought he was stillborn. But, according to the grooms that were present, Survivor opened his eyes, rose on shaky legs, and has been running ever since.”
“That is remarkable.”
“It is, especially since the mother had lost her previous foal within a few days of birth.”
“How terrible.”
The groom nodded his agreement. “That is why the lead groom named the gelding Survivor.”
