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“All right,” she said finally. “I will help you find an opportunity to explain.”
“You…will?” He was surprised.
Her answering look was admonitory. “Because I am concerned about my friend,” she said. “She seemed…” She paused, then went on, “Whatever comes next, if anything does, will be up to Harriet.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I won’t argue your case. That is up to you.”
“Naturally.” He wouldn’t have wanted her to. The lord knew what she would say. “Why are you helping me?”
“I am helping Harriet, I believe. And that is what society is for—to ease relations between people.”
“It is?”
She smiled at his incredulity. “Among other things. So we require an occasion where you can speak to Harriet privately. Perhaps a ride in the countryside. You do ride?”
How did she think he got about? “Yes.”
“Good.”
“Will Miss Finch be allowed to come?”
“Oh, there will be no problem with that.”
Because she would be along, Jack supposed. Harriet’s family would not dare refuse a duchess’s invitation. But that didn’t matter. He’d be with Harriet again and have the chance to redeem himself. Perhaps they could even settle their future together, and he could hold her in his arms in reality rather than dreams.
“We need mounts for that,” the duchess continued. “Our carriage horses won’t do.”
“Leave that to me,” said Jack.
***
Two days later, a party of three riders approached Winstead Hall, reining in by the front door, where Harriet’s mount awaited her. Harriet had been ordered to accept this invitation, even though she’d pointed out to her grandfather that she wasn’t adept on horseback. She hadn’t been able to resist reminding him that the circumstances of her youth had offered few opportunities to learn to ride, since his vengeful spite had created that situation. He’d brushed this aside, of course, as he did any argument that went against his wishes. So all her protest had accomplished was to worry her mother.
Life at Winstead House was becoming insupportable. Her grandfather talked of nothing but marrying her to the earl. Her mother cried a great deal. In truth, Harriet was glad to get away, even though the occasion was certain to be awkward. Tugging at the jacket of the riding habit she’d rarely worn, she wondered why Cecelia had issued this invitation. Had it been her notion? Or Jack the Earl’s? What was behind it? She wished she knew. But she trusted Cecelia. Cecelia would stay with her and support her.
She greeted the newcomers as she walked over to the groom holding her horse. “It is very gentle?” Harriet asked him. She’d made this request several times, but Grandfather’s servants answered only to him.
“Yes, miss. She’s a regular sweetheart.”
Was his tone dismissive? Harriet couldn’t tell. He helped her mount at the block. She settled in the saddle and took the reins, hoping for the best. In her limited experience, horses were massive, stubborn creatures who stopped at every clump of grass to eat whenever she was astride them. She’d been told she must exert her authority to quell this behavior, that the way she sat and pulled at the traces would master the animal. She had not found this to be true. Or, more likely, she had not learned how to do it. The last time she’d ridden, the horse had spit on her when she dismounted. The laundress had had a terrible time removing the grassy-green stain from her habit.
Why had she agreed to this outing? Would her grandfather have tied her in the saddle if she’d rebelled? Surely not.
They started slowly down the drive. Naturally the duke and duchess rode superbly. They did everything superbly, Harriet concluded with a touch of bitterness. The rogue earl seemed equally at home in the saddle. Harriet tried to line up beside Cecelia and away from the gentlemen, but her mount paid no heed to her wishes. The Terefords moved ahead side by side while Ferrington lingered next to Harriet. When they reached the lane that ran by the house, he pointed left and said, “The Rileys tell me there’s a fine prospect down this way.”
“Who?” asked Harriet.
“The old couple looking after Ferrington Hall.”
“Oh, yes.” They’d spied on them together, Harriet remembered, back when everything had been different. She was horrified to find tears threatening. She blinked them away. “Where did you get your horse?”
“I bought all three of them from Meric.” He gestured at the Terefords’ mounts.
Meric was one of the men at the Travelers camp, and how dared he remind her of them?
“I found a wad of cash in a strongbox locked in a desk, and I was happy to pass some of it along to Meric,” he added. “He drove a hard bargain, of course.” His smile was admiring.
