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“Something tells me that you weren’t very careful at her age, either,” he said.
“No, but I was horse mad. Boys held little interest for me.”
“And now?”
Kathleen’s heart jumped. “Um, now what?”
“Are you still horse mad?”
“Oh, of course.”
That was a bit deflating. For a wild moment, she’d thought he was flirting with her. But it was already stupendously apparent that Grant Kendrick was not the flirting type.
“I spent a great deal of time in my father’s stables at home in Ireland,” she said to cover her awkward response. “We had an excellent stablemaster. I learned much from him.”
He tilted his head, as if listening to the murmur of conversation drifting down through the door. “And did you spend as much time in the stables after you moved to England?”
“We only spend a few months in the summer at Papa’s estate in Wiltshire, because my stepmother prefers the city. I do try to ride as much as I can in Hyde Park, and I occasionally take my phaeton out to Richmond Park.”Or racing on Hampstead Heath.“But it’s not the same as driving or riding in the country.”
When a scuffling noise sounded from overheard, Kathleen started for the stairs.
“They’re fine,” Grant said in a gentle tone.
She dredged up a weak smile.
He settled his shoulders more comfortably against the window frame. Once more, her attention was drawn to the fact that those shoulders were indeed very broad. As was his chest, which tapered down to a lean waist and hips. For some reason, she found his legs quite fascinating. They were long and exceptionally muscled, a fact made obvious by his well-fitting breeches.
For a dreary businessman, he certainly cut an imposing athletic figure.
“Miss Calvert?”
Kathleen jerked her attention back to his face. She could only be thankful that the room was so poorly lit, because she could feel her cheeks glowing like fiery embers.
“Yes, Mr. Kendrick?”
He stared at her for a moment before answering. “I was suggesting that you not worry too much about Jeannie. She’s energetic, but she’s a sweet lass for all that.”
She wavered for a moment. There was something dependable and trustworthy about Grant, and it seemed so silly not to tell him. Then again, she was reluctant to air her family’s dirty laundry with a near stranger.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Grant said. “But I can tell you’re worried about something. Whatever it is, have you talked to Vicky about it? She’s very good with wayward lads and lassies. I speak from painful experience on this issue,” he added with a wry smile.
She couldn’t help but chuckle, and suddenly she did want to confide in him.
“Jeannie ran away from home to follow me to Glasgow. She stowed away in the boot of the luggage carriage for two days before she was discovered by one of Gillian’s grooms.”
He jerked upright. “Was she all right?”
“Just hungry and annoyed with us for dragging her out of there. It’s been a challenge to keep the episode under wraps, quite honestly.”
“How did she pull it off?”
Kathleen sighed. “She dressed as a stable boy.”
“Good Lord.” He glanced up at the open door. “I assume you told Vicky.”
“Yes. She’s much better at controlling Jeannie than I am. I’m afraid my sister no longer listens to me like she used to.” She crinkled her nose. “She’s too much like me, I’m afraid.”
“Och, you’re much too hard on yourself. And Vicky was a governess, don’t forget.”
