They were off, horses and riders floating over the springy turf. As they neared the road Johnny turned his horse into a wide circle at seeing a rider coming out of the trees from the far side of the road. Kitty checked Cara and guided her into a wide arc as well. When she and Johnny turned to face the rider, he hailed them with a wave.
“Must be trouble. P’rhaps we can help,” Johnny said.
As they trotted closer, Kitty gasped. She knew that great grey horse. And its rider—Owen Wyndham.
Chapter Thirteen
“Ah, Johnny my lad, I am in need of help. My wagon’s wheel has broken and I have royal mares to deliver to Greystone. Can you and …” Owen’s glance strayed to Johnny’s companion and his mouth fell open.
“Wha … why … is that you, Miss Bennet?”
Kitty’s mare was circling nervously.
A wide smile spread over Owen’s face. “I would know your eyes anywhere.”
Johnny flushed and looked between Kitty and Owen in confusion.
Kitty’s own eyes glanced at Owen in alarm and then down at Cara. What should she say? What could she do?
Owen burst into uproarious laughter.
Kitty stared at him.
Johnny looked at her; then a smile broke over his face and he shrugged.
“So my disguise is poorer than I thought,” Kitty said, breaking into laughter herself.
“This is rich, Miss Bennet. But I do sympathize. I have always wondered how ladies managed to feel secure on horseback with their bodies twisted so. I admire your courage.”
“Sir—” Johnny began.
“Do not worry; this secret is safe with me,” Owen said. “Why should I reveal it? In fact, I wish you might sometime include me on such a ride. It would be far more exciting than the usual rides with ladies.” He chuckled.
In their short acquaintance Kitty had not seen Owen this merry or this comfortable. She could now relax in his company—and found she desired more of it.
“But about my wheel and my horses …” Owen paused in thought. “Pemberley is nearer than Greystone. Johnny, can you return to Pemberley and request two more lads to help me pony these mares? And ask that a message be sent to my father so he can send help to the wagon; it is just across this road and past the fork about a quarter mile. Luckily, I am not too far from home. The wagon has been troublesome all the way. Miss Bennet can stay here and help manage the mares.”
Seeing Johnny’s doubtful face he added, “Do not be concerned. Old Scoville is here with me, and a proper enough chaperone.”
Johnny looked to Kitty and she nodded her approval.
“A bit of unexpected adventure today, Miss,” he said, touching his hat.
“Yes. We rarely meet with anyone on our rides.”
Owen added, “Oh, and Johnny, when you return with the other lads, do halloo. That will be Miss Bennet’s cue to disappear into the trees with Cara. You know the path through yonder trees that crosses the rill in a northward fashion? The two of you can meet there. It is within shouting distance, Miss Bennet, should you encounter any trouble.”
Johnny wheeled his horse and was off to Pemberley.
Owen extended his arm in the direction of his wagon.
“Shall we?”
Kitty smiled and urged Cara forward.
“Are you just now returning from Windsor, Mr. Owen?”
“I am, but how did you—?”
“Ha! Now I may surprise you. We were dinner guests at Greystone last evening.”
His expression clouded. “I am sorry to have missed that. I hope we may dine together at another time soon.”
Kitty’s cheeks flushed. “I should like that very much.”
Then she frowned. “But what about the wagon driver? How shall I conceal myself from …?”
Owen gave a throaty laugh and reached up to help her dismount. He lowered her slowly and their eyes locked. His arms were strong and steady, as if she weighed no more than a feather.
She shook herself free and gave him a fierce look.
“You must not make light of my situation, sir.”
“I do not, Miss Bennet, truly. Old Scoville, my wagon driver, is a kindly soul, but his vision is not as keen as it once was. I doubt he will pay you any mind; he will assume you are just another stable lad in those clothes. Take care not to speak around him though—your melodic voice will give you away.”
She pursed her lips. “You have an answer for every predicament, Mr. Owen.”
He gave her a steady look. “That is my duty as a gentleman, Miss Bennet. And as a horsewoman, you know the value of thinking ahead, fine instinct, and quick reactions. Have no fear. Your honor and safety, and your comfort, are my priorities.”
It was a pretty speech and she relented.
“You are very kind.”
“I also find it delightful that we now share a secret,” he said with a wink.
She stared hard at him. “You have found my weakness. I hope, before long, to discover yours.”
“I have but one, Miss Bennet, and I am surprised you do not know it already.” He looked deeply into her eyes, then made a slight bow.
Color burst onto her cheeks again and she looked quickly away, but a growing smile had already brightened her expression.
They approached the wagon. Old Scoville was leaning against a nearby tree stump, his pipe in his mouth. Apparently dozing.
Kitty was careful not to speak within earshot.
Owen moved the three mares from their tether on the wagon to trees at the edge of the woods in the shade. He filled a bucket from the noisy stream and watered them, then filled the bucket again to water the wagon horse, Cara, and his own mount.
“What are your plans for this fine day, Miss Bennet?” Owen inquired whilst he held the bucket for his horse.
“We are for tea at Swan’s Nest this afternoon. Oh, I hope I am not late for luncheon. What will I tell Mr. Darcy if I am tardy? I doubt I could convincingly tell a falsehood. He has been so kind to me.”
“There are shortcuts to Pemberley from here. I have gone back and forth on many errands. Johnny will return in less than an hour so you may yet be in time for luncheon. Certainly in time to be ready for tea.”
“Mr. Darcy is punctual. If I am not ready to step into the coach at three, I fear the reproaches I shall hear. And I do not wish to bring trouble down on Johnny’s head. He is so obliging.”
“Johnny is a good lad. I trust him.”
The day grew warmer as they waited. Their own mounts, which they had been grazing in hand, were now tied up so Kitty and Owen could graze the royal mares. Kitty looked them over with interest, but as time passed she began to fret.
“You are restless, Miss Bennet, and likely parched. I have beer in the wagon, along with bread and cheese. May I offer you some? It is not fine fare, but it will satisfy.”
Kitty looked towards the road expectantly, but neither saw nor heard riders. She sighed.
Owen took the lead line from her and tethered the mares again, then indicated a fallen log in the shade.
“Sit here, Miss Bennet, whilst I fetch food and drink.”
All around her the birds chattered and sang. The air was pungent with the smell of fresh soil and springy patches of moss. Newly-leafed trees brightened the woods. Early wildflowers peeped through emerging grass and the stream chattered over its rocky bed. Surely here was heaven itself.
Her eyes were then drawn to Owen as he leapt handily into the wagon, opened a large basket behind the driver’s seat and secured two small bags and a bottle. He was agile; each move was dynamic yet measured. She found his person very pleasing.
He vaulted out, retrieved the supplies, and walked towards her with a look that spoke of being pleased with what he saw before him.
She fidgeted and stared up at the trees.
He sat next to her, put the bottle on the ground, then carefully placed one bag on his lap and handed the other to her. He drew his knife from his belt and unwrapped the cheese, cleaning his b
lade on the cloth before cutting several chunks off the partial wheel of Sage Derby.
“Do you mind tearing the bread and passing some to me, Miss Bennet? This meal has not the elegance that our picnic next week will boast, but it is no matter. I feel quite pleased with the world at this moment.” He looked over at her, his countenance expressing the same.
His words described her feelings perfectly—pleased with the world—and she looked at him with appreciation. She tore a handful of bread and passed it over. As their hands touched, she again felt the small thrill that being in his presence seemed to elicit. A feeling not at all unpleasant, she decided, as they feasted happily on the bread and cheese.
“I regret I have no cup to offer you, Miss Bennet. When we travel, we each have a bottle for our use.” He uncorked his bottle and wiped it with the cloth from the cheese, then held it up. “To a surprising morning,” he murmured.
Kitty looked at him, then burst out laughing.
“I have never drunk beer or ale from a bottle before. I guess one who rides like a man must be prepared to eat and drink like one as well.” She tipped the bottle to her lips and enjoyed the rich brew on her parched tongue.
Owen chuckled and devoured another piece of cheese.
“And that makes one more secret I now possess,” he said in a lowered voice, with a sly grin. “As we dine, Miss Bennet, tell me of your home. I wish to learn where such an unusual young lady—”
“Unusual? I fear you think poorly of me, sir,” she said with her brows knitted into a frown.
“Poorly? Oh, no. I find you quite remarkable. You are as fresh as … as the spring. Like a young foal. You do not put on airs or engage in coquetry; and I have seen your loyalty to your friends. My esteem for you grows by the minute. Perhaps faster than …” He trailed off and stared at the ground.
Kitty was torn. She dared not look at him, yet she longed to see his face. Was he heaping false praise upon her? Roasting her for some mischievous reason of his own?
Then again, how could he praise her? She had broken all the rules. Perhaps Papa was right; she did not behave like a proper lady and would never find a place in good society—or an honorable partner. It was all hopeless.
And now this young man had the whip hand over her, knowing two secrets that could ruin her. She stole a glance at him as he continued to stare at the ground. A fine hole she’d dug for herself. Darcy said Owen was honorable, but that was with horses and business and men. Was he honorable as a friend? In affairs of the heart?
Her voice wavered as she asked, “Do you have a timepiece, Mr. Owen? The sun is past its zenith.”
He looked up, his countenance now serious—almost troubled—and pulled a timepiece from his pocket.
“Half past one.”
“Oh, dear. I have missed luncheon. Lizzy will worry. Why did I not tell Johnny to send word to the house? Fie! I wonder, shall I leave on my own? I dare not be—”
“No, Miss Bennet, my honor will not allow that. Personally I see no scandal or sin in a lady riding astride, but it would be unacceptable for her to ride alone. Out in these woods? Near the road? No, indeed. Too many dangers might befall her. Johnny has a bit of wit about him. He may think to send word to the house even though you did not direct it. Let us wait another quarter hour. If he has not returned by then, we shall concoct a different plan. I cannot command you, but I pray you will agree?” he asked, his eyes even more beseeching than his words.
Kitty could not refuse such an honorable request.
“One quarter hour. No more,” she replied softly. She wrapped the remaining bread and handed it to him and took another drink from the bottle.
“Here, Miss Bennet. Have one more bite of bread. As you may not often drink beer”—he smiled—“you may not know the smell can linger on one’s breath. You need no false scandals.”
He tore off a piece of bread and held it near her mouth. Her lips parted in surprise and he gently placed it upon them. She took it in, unable to look away until he turned to wrap the loaf.
After a few minutes of silence, Owen said, “My previous inquiry was sincere, Miss Bennet. I have not traveled in Hertfordshire. Is society there like it is here? Do you have sisters and brothers, other than Mrs. Darcy? And what of the land? What do you see when you hack out? I would be grateful to learn, if you would oblige me.”
His sincerity made her want to talk to him, even confide in him. But something tugged at her. Wickham had possessed this same uncanny ability. She should be more guarded until she knew Owen better. And could ask others about him. So she talked in general terms about Longbourn and Meryton, and about her family.
He listened with interest. “So you have no brothers at all?” he asked. “Your father must have felt greatly—”
Hooves! They leapt to their feet.
“It is he!” Kitty cried.
Owen gathered up their food items and made for the wagon.
Kitty moved towards Cara, eager to be off.
“Wait,” he cautioned. “Let us see what has been done and learn the plan. Johnny has brought three lads with him.”
“They must not see me,” Kitty whispered. “I will be in the shade by the stream.”
“Yes. Go now. Stay where I can see you,” he directed. “And stand on the distant side of Cara so she can block any view they might have of you.”
As she led Cara behind the wagon and into the trees, Kitty was struck by Owen’s quick thinking and his attention to every detail. Nothing escaped his notice.
Johnny arrived in an instant.
“Mr. Owen. I requested a message be sent to Greystone to inform them of yer situation and of needin’ a wheelwright and another wagon. If ’tis agreeable, I best accompany M … the other rider … back to Pemberley. Two of the lads can help you pony the mares on to Greystone, and one lad can stay ’ere with Old Scoville till help arrives for the wagon.” His eyes darted about. “The other rider waits … in the shade?”
“Yes, at the designated place. You have done well, Johnny, and you have my gratitude.”
“Obliged, Mr. Owen. Always at yer service. I want to admire these mares but there is no time; we must return with haste.” He touched his cap and entered the woods whilst the others prepared the mares to travel.
Kitty had found a fallen log, and when Johnny approached she mounted Cara.
“Miss Bennet, I sent a message to the great house of our delay, and that you would miss luncheon but would be ready for the coach at three. I hope I have not misspoken?”
“Indeed not. It is just what I would have wished. You are very good; and you have managed to keep my secret?”
“Yes, Miss. No one’s the wiser. Excepting Mr. Owen.”
Chapter Fourteen
On her return to Pemberley, Kitty rushed up the stairs and into her chambers. To her surprise, Poppy had two gowns and all the extras set out for her choice and was fetching shoes from the dressing room.
“Poppy! You are divine! How did you … ?”
The girl curtsied and a smile washed over her face. “Johnny, it was, sent me word of yer delay. I knew ye would need to dress in a trice. I aimed to be helpful.”
“Indeed you did. And indeed you are. Thank you!”
The basin was ready for washing. “Please send word to my sister that I am here dressing for tea.”
“Aye, Miss, at once.”
≈
Refreshed and ready, and most appreciative of Poppy’s skill and assistance, Kitty descended the stairs and found Lizzy in the hallway speaking with a servant.
She turned and searched Kitty’s face.
“What is it, Lizzy?”
“Thank you for sending the second message, but I must say the first message about missing luncheon concerned me. Can you explain what it was that delayed you?”
“Certainly. It was nothing so severe …” Darcy was coming down the hallway. “But Lizzy, can we talk about it later?”
“Of course. But it must be later today.”
Whe
n Darcy reached Lizzy, he brought her hand up for a tender kiss.
“My darling, you are so beautiful,” he whispered, his expression warm with tenderness. They held each other’s eyes, and Kitty again felt pleased her sister had found such love.
After a minute he turned. “And Kitty, you look as lovely as this fine summer day.”
Kitty curtsied her thanks and smiled.
Georgiana joined them, looking elegant as always.
Darcy smiled. “Now let us be off.”
He seemed unusually keen about today’s visit. The squire must be a most particular friend.
≈
Squire and Lady Stapleton greeted them. Mr. Andrew Stapleton was also at hand. Although he performed the appropriate greetings to the others, Andrew seemed to have eyes only for Kitty. He offered his arm to escort her to the drawing room. He, too, seemed unusually eager. The very energy swirling about portended more than tea and idle conversation.
The large windows of the drawing room were thrown open on opposite walls, allowing a delicious breeze to waft about. Andrew walked Kitty to the window that overlooked the pond.
“Such a fine day. And you, Miss Bennet, are as dazzling as the sun, and as welcome. There is much I wish to say to you.”
Kitty colored but did not know how to reply. She turned as Julia and Matilda entered, followed by their younger sisters. Julia’s sensible presence was calming. Georgiana and Matilda were already chatting amiably.
“Let us join your sisters. Have you shared your news with them?” Kitty said brightly to Andrew.
To her dismay, some of the sparkle drained from his face.
“Mr. Stapleton, have I offended you? Are your sisters not already in your confidence?”
“No, they are not. What I have to say is for your ears alone. Can we have a private conversation after tea? It is a fine day for a walk.” His eyes implored her.
She agreed to a walk but her heart was reluctant. He was handsome and interesting, to be sure. But they had spent little time together, and none of it in serious conversation. How would she respond if he …
Her Summer at Pemberley Page 12
