Craddock pulled the bridle over the mare’s head and slipped the bit in the horse’s mouth. “I thought we might go to the fenced-in paddock. I’ll teach you to mount and will lead the horse as she walks around the circle, so you might get the feel for each other. When you are accustomed to riding at a walk, we may then attempt a trot, and go farther than the pasture with me on a horse next to you, if that pleases you.”
Kitty was secretly relieved she would not have to begin cantering out into the open fields on her first day. “I find that to be an agreeable plan.”
She followed Craddock as he led the horse to the stable opening. He gestured to the mounting block. “Take my hand, my lady, and I will assist you into the saddle. Put your foot here on this stirrup, and I will give you a hand up. Slide your other leg next to the horse and bring it up to where the hook is. Wrap your leg around the hook … That’s it. Now seat yourself comfortably.”
Kitty had been on a pony a small number of times when she was a child, so some movements did come back to her. However, she couldn't get over the feeling that the horse was an unpredictable creature that could bolt at any moment, throwing her to her death.
“Here, hold the reins. Don’t be afraid. I won’t let go.” Craddock held the bridle and pulled the horse forward a few steps.
Erasmus should oversee Sam's riding while their brother was still young. He was preoccupied with his business affairs, and she knew Sam could not be receiving regular lessons when he was still trailing Nurse everywhere with his younger cousins. It was one thing for Kitty not to have learned to ride; it was quite another thing for a young boy about to set out for Harrow. He would stick out and perhaps be teased mercilessly. She would write to Erasmus to make sure he saw to it.
As Fawn began to move forward, Craddock loosened his hold and walked at her side, and her heart rate picked up a notch. “Why is the horse bending so far forward? It feels like I'm about to fall.” Kitty did not like showing her fear so readily, especially to someone who was practically a stranger, but she could not help herself.
“Fawn is only getting accustomed to her rider,” he said, taking hold of the bridle again and pulling the horse’s head up. “She's leaning down because it’s easier, and you have not yet shown her who’s mistress.” He flashed Kitty a grin and started leading the horse in a slow circle around the fenced-in pasture. The horse began to move at a smooth gait that lulled Kitty into feeling more secure. They walked for some way in silence.
“How did you find yourself married to Lord Hayworth?” Craddock’s blunt question pulled Kitty out of her thoughts. She looked down to give him a piece of her mind for his impertinence, but the words vanished when she saw his friendly look. It was with a twinge of discomfort, springing from guilt, that she noticed how handsome his features were when formed into such an easy smile. Perhaps he had not meant impertinence. It was certainly an overture of friendship of which she was sorely in need.
Kitty looked ahead, away from his mesmerizing eyes. “It was an arranged match between my brother and Lord Hayworth.”
“Hm.” The groom put so much significance in the sound, she could not help but look at him for an explanation. “I did not think it could be a love match,” he added.
Kitty should depress such pretension, and she most certainly would. But right now she had to know why he would say such a thing. What was it about Phineas and her that led to speculation, and was he the only servant speculating? “Why would you think such a thing?” she asked.
“You seem very careful with one another, I suppose.” Before Kitty could tell him that it was none of his business, he went on quickly. “And lest you think me overly impertinent for a groom, I would like to tell you that you and I have friends in common.”
“Do we?” She looked at him in astonishment. “Pray tell, whom?”
Craddock’s lips curved upwards, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “The Boultons. I believe they are your neighbors in Bristol? Maria Boulton is my cousin, and she wrote to inform me that her neighbor would be marrying Lord Hayworth.”
“Oh, what a wonderfully small world it is,” Kitty exclaimed. It warmed her to have someone in her new life who was familiar with her old. Perhaps that was also why his speech was not so different from hers. “Did you ever visit them in Bristol? We might've crossed paths—not that I ever went out all that much, apart from walking with my niece and nephews,” she amended. Her breath clouded in the cold, but the exercise kept her warm and she did not feel it.
“I did visit two or three times, but my own interests and employment kept me away. I should have liked to have made your acquaintance”—he looked up and met her gaze—“under different circumstances.”
Kitty furrowed her brows slightly. She wasn't entirely sure of his meaning, and whether he had not spoken in a way that approached impropriety. Surely he was not referring to meeting her when she was yet unmarried. In any case, since she was married and the matter was very much settled, it did not bear thinking of.
“Well,” she hemmed, “I find it a relief to have someone connected to my family here in my new home.” She smiled at him briefly, determined to keep things on a friendly level. After all, she might very well have mistook a deeper meaning when he’d only wished to be neighborly.
“I have a plan to set up my own stables and buy and sell horses. I’ve made the right connections and am just working here until everything is settled.” Craddock clucked for the mare to follow him as he turned around the pasture. “This is only a temporary employment.”
“I see,” Kitty replied, unsure of how to respond.
Craddock took her around the circle a few more times, asking questions about Bristol and her family and sharing about his cousin until she began to feel at ease. The saddle chafed at her legs, although she would not mention such a thing to anyone.
“I believe that is enough for today, my lady,” Craddock said when they neared the stable, to her relief. They would not be doing another round. “And if I’m not mistaken, you have some chafing on your legs, and it will not do to let that worsen.” She blushed at his mention and did not answer it.
“I thank you for my first lesson, and I'm looking forward to growing more proficient,” Kitty said as he helped her down. “Then I might accompany my husband to visit the tenants.” She turned to face the groom and caught a stiff turn of his lips.
“You will learn quickly, I am sure—most particularly with my help.” His full smile was back in place, pulling deep dimples into his cheeks. He took off his hat and bowed before her, but somehow instead of showing respect, the gesture seemed playful, almost flippant.
Kitty gave a nod before turning away. She could not help but fear that the courteous gesture was nothing more than flirtation; and that was a dangerous game she had no interest in playing.
9
Phineas dismounted and handed the reins to Craddock, who took them without a word and led the stallion to his stall. The sun was beginning to set, and its dimming rays still lit the stable enough to set in relief the profile of the horses who peeked their noses out of the stalls. Phineas strode past them to go wash up before meeting Kitty for dinner. Upon crossing Fawn’s stall, he turned back.
“How did the riding lesson go? Was Lady Hayworth at ease?” he called out to Craddock, who had exited the stall, holding the saddle.
“We did not go far, my lord. Just around the far pasture, and I walked at the horse’s head to make sure Fawn would not bolt. Though I didn’t think she would.”
The groom reentered the stall to unhook the horse’s bridle, and it gave Phineas the irritating sensation of having been dismissed by a mere servant. It did not sit well after his trying day of attempting to bring his tenants’ houses to more livable conditions. Rather than utter hasty words that would come out too sharply, he left the stable and headed toward the estate. He would need to inquire after Craddock’s employment details before deciding whether to keep him on.
Phineas did not have long to dress before dinner, and his desire to see
Kitty quickened his steps. Today’s discovery was distressing, and Phineas had a feeling he could confide in his wife and that her opinion on the matter would be valuable. He wasn’t entirely sure why he thought that since they had not engaged in many conversations—and the ones they held were often fraught with emotion—but their discussions were authentic, and that was not something he had looked for in a wife.
Phineas did not cross paths with Kitty until he tapped at her room to take her down to dinner. When she opened the door to him, he found her ravishing in her simplicity. Would he never tire of looking at her? It needed one glance at the fine quality of her clothes to know that her brother was well-off. But Kitty’s taste in selecting the colors which would best suit her complexion and the cuts he guessed to be the latest mode—though he was no expert in such matters—was a gift all her own. The combined effect of her fine gown, slender figure, and artful chignon was stunning. And when one of her curls fell out of the chignon and framed her face, Phineas had to hold himself back from reaching up to tuck it behind her ear.
Everything was off to a good start in this marriage, all things considered. Although he could not call it love—they hardly knew each other for that—he was particularly attracted to his wife, and that was something above and beyond what he had bargained for. Only one small problem needed to be settled before arriving at perfection. He had no idea how his wife felt about him.
“Shall we go to dinner?” he proposed, the corner of his mouth lifting along with his spirits as he rested his eyes upon her.
Her answering smile seemed more open than she had yet bestowed upon him. Perhaps she had missed him today. He held out hope that Kitty was coming to be attached to him.
In the dining room, they sat in their usual places at the head and foot of the table. After a moment’s consideration, Phineas got up from his seat and walked over to the right of where his wife sat at the foot of the table. The footman rushed over to bring the place settings. Phineas no longer wished to submit to the formality of dinner while waiting for their more informal stance at dessert. The dinner seemed insufferably long that way.
When they had eaten, and the dessert had been set down before the servants left, he offered her the plate of ratafia cakes. “How was your riding lesson today? I asked Craddock when I came in, but he did not give me a very detailed reply.”
Kitty narrowed her eyes as she considered the cakes. Her hand brushed his as she selected one, and with the jolt that came from her touch, Phineas nearly dropped the plate. Had that been intentional?
“It was not as terrifying as I expected,” she answered with a comical glint to her eye. Phineas laughed, as he thought she’d intended for him to do, but his mind was still on how soft her hands were. “Craddock walked at the horse’s head, and I was not made to gallop on my first day.”
“I should hope he would not make you do such a thing,” Phineas replied. Surely her touch had been accidental. He would not read anything into it. “Do you have plans to ride again tomorrow?”
“We did not discuss it, as a matter of fact. But I plan to present myself at ten o'clock tomorrow morning and assume he will be expecting me. If he is not, it is of no matter. I will occupy myself in some other way.”
“I will wish to ride with you, but perhaps that must wait until you are able to venture forth with a little more assurance.” Phineas sipped his drink. “As for now, unfortunately, the repairs at the section of tenant houses will keep me fully occupied. I did not find the improvements there I had hoped for—at least not the progress I had been expecting.”
Kitty looked at him in concern, and her eyes sparkled in the candlelight, warm and beguiling. Her reddish auburn hair gleamed in the soft glow. “Has anything happened today particularly? Or are you speaking of a more general problem?”
It was not in Phineas’s nature to unburden himself to others. Not even at school with his closest friends did he reveal much of himself. And he certainly had never confided anything to his parents. The idea was laughable, since he was likely to receive either a rebuke or a lesson. But there was something so sincere in her expression, so inviting, he could not but respond.
“Mr. Ameson, my steward, had not carried out my instructions. He has not begun any of the repairs I ordered for him to make. True, there has not been much time to have done so after having received my letter. When I obtained the money from your dowry, however”—Phineas paused, suddenly conscious that this might be a delicate topic for Kitty. She showed nothing but interest, so he went on—“I gave explicit instructions to begin at least re-thatching the roofs as soon as possible because the cold will settle upon us quickly. I want the tenants to be warm enough and well cared for. Besides having concern for their basic human conditions, I am aware that they will work faithfully for the estate if they are content.”
Kitty toyed with her spoon and tucked her lip between her teeth, a gesture he found endearing—and kissable. “Yes, your tenants need to be well taken care of. Do they have the food they will need for this winter? You said the estate had not been running very well.” As she spoke, she turned Phineas’s way and now her knee brushed his under the table. Phineas gulped. She moved again, releasing the contact, and he was sure her movements had no ulterior meaning behind them—not when her expression had not changed.
“I have not even got that far with Mr. Ameson,” he said, attempting to focus on their conversation and not where this tête à tête might lead if only she would give the signal. “To own the truth, I don't know precisely where things stand. Although I inherited this estate three years ago, I have not had the money to bring it into order. In addition, my father has been exigent about how much time I spend at his estate, which I will one day inherit. I do understand his motivation.”
Phineas studied his hand holding the stem of the wine glass. “However, if I know my father, he will last for many, many more years, and I don't wish to be forever at his beck and call. I must have my own estate to look after, and I want to bring this one to self-sufficiency, so I can eventually pass it on to my…” He paused and looked at Kitty, prey to the longing and ridiculousness of what he was about to utter—“heir.”
It seemed that Kitty’s color rose, although it was difficult to discern between the candlelight and the glow of the orange flames flickering in the fireplace. She held his gaze for a moment, longer than she usually did, and his heart thudded in his chest. She looked away.
“I think it noble that you wish to improve upon the estate. It is a shame to let any estate go to ruin if there is a means to bring it about. Although I could not like the manner in which my fate was decided by anyone other than me—” She penetrated him with a speaking look that bordered on reproving, although he no longer felt the anger directed at him. He had even begun to agree with her. Phineas did not like his father dictating his every move. How could he expect his wife to feel any differently?
She went on. “If my settlement is my sale price, I prefer it to go to the functioning of an estate, making it solvent and taking care of the tenants in a way that gives them their dignity. After all, the dowry might just as easily have gone to gambling and drink if my brother had chosen less well for a husband. Any heir to an earldom would have done.”
“That is high praise,” Phineas said drily. She laughed, pulling a chuckle out of him. Her laughter was musical and light, and he stopped to watch the amusement play on her face until she grew conscious of his regard.
She breathed in and picked up the cake between her fingers but did not take a bite. “What will you do with Mr. Ameson? Had you been led to believe he was more serious in his affairs?”
“Truly, I reposed entirely too much confidence in him.” Phineas frowned. “I suppose I did not have much choice in the matter, given how little time I had to oversee the estate and how little money I had to invest in it. However, now that I am able to provide the amount necessary to set the repairs in order, I can only see his tardiness as negligence. I have not yet told him, but he will have to be r
eplaced. I suppose I shall have to go to Bath and speak with my father’s man of business to help me find someone trustworthy since my own man is on leave.”
There was a moment’s silence before Kitty said, “Will you be leaving shortly?”
Phineas thought he detected disappointment, and it heartened him. “I truly should not delay the trip, but I believe I can stay only one night and come back the next day. That is, unless my father requires my assistance on some matter. I cannot know until I arrive.” He furrowed his brows and inhaled. “I would invite you to come, but I fear I cannot entertain you there as I would like, and to travel again so soon after you have arrived here…”
“It is of no matter,” she replied quickly. “I should like to continue to learn the run of things here. And yours is not a task that can be put off. Of course you must help your father if he has need of you.” Kitty brushed her fingers and set her napkin on the uneaten cake. She had a habit of crumbling her sweets rather than eating them. “I will be perfectly content here.”
Phineas nodded, relieved. The truth was, he was not ready for Kitty to become further acquainted with his parents until their own marriage was on a firmer footing. He was not sure what kind of welcome his wife would receive in his father’s house, and their marital bonds needed to be firm.
It was growing late, and Phineas was reluctant to bring their conversation to a close, especially when he had known what it was to touch her bare hand and her knee. She had not spoken the words to release him from his promise, and he thought he knew what to expect. The suggestion to retire would simply mean the end of their time together for the evening. Still, he held out a glimmer of hope. Were they not coming to an understanding? Did they not have an ease in conversing that was not a gift shared by every couple? The candles were burning low, and still he could not say the words to end their meal.
“Did you receive any visitors this afternoon?” he asked.
His Disinclined Bride (Seasons of Change Book 7) Page 8
