A Clandestine Courtship by Allison Lane Page A

grimmer, but this was not an appropriate place for serious thought. When they arrived at Ridgeway, the light would expose his face. Glancing across at his friends, he forced his mind back to the conversation.
    “Lady Northrup is the only mother Amelia remembers,” Harry was saying. “Her own died when Caroline was born, and their father never remarried. Their governess was an ancient crone who disdained anything frivolous. Fortunately, Mary replaced her with a younger woman and took the girls under her own wing.”
    “Caroline mentioned that. They were shocked when Frederick married within a month of their father’s death – and to a vicar’s daughter of little breeding – but they soon learned to love Mary. Without her, Caroline fears she would have been judged insane. It was Mary who realized that her problem was excess energy, and who taught her to control herself.”
    “And they rejoiced that Frederick rarely returned home. He was a brutal man when crossed.”
    “How?” asked James, though it was hardly surprising in one of John’s friends.
    “He broke Amelia’s arm knocking her across the room one day. She had interrupted him to ask a favor despite his orders that he not be disturbed. The servant who let her in was summarily dismissed.”
    Which sounded exactly like something John would have done, he had to admit.
    The carriage pulled up before Ridgeway.
     

CHAPTER SIX
     
    Mary rode along the rim of the abandoned quarry, keeping her horse as far from the edge as possible – which wasn’t very far. Trees crowned the crumbling cliff that rose on her right. Piles of rock had accumulated at its base. Wind and rain had gouged out the quarry walls until the road was only twelve feet wide in spots.
    People had talked for years about moving the road to the other side of the hill, but so far nothing had happened. She hoped James would consider it. The decision would ultimately be his since the proposed right-of-way would cross his land. In the meantime, she shuddered every time she passed this spot. Frederick had tumbled to his death here.
    Not that she missed him.
    As she rounded the sharpest corner, a hawk exploded out of the pit, clutching a squirrel in its talons. Acorn shied, swinging dangerously close to the edge and kicking loose a rock that bounced twice before landing twenty feet below.
    The Ridgeway gentlemen had called at Northfield the morning after her dinner. Justin had been out with the steward, so she had been the girls’ sole chaperon. But the job had been surprisingly easy.
    Mr. Crenshaw had entertained them with humorous tales of the London Season, drawing giggles from the usually sedate Amelia.
    A very proper couple walking in Hyde Park had been thrown into hysterics when two boys and a dog raced past in a game of tag, knocking them into the Serpentine and ruining their clothes. Though Mary rarely laughed at anyone’s misfortune, his narrative had been so witty that she hadn’t been able to help herself. And the tale of the climbing-boy-turned-burglar was even funnier. The lad had been released by his master, who deemed him too old to work. The master had been right. When oaths awakened Lady Benchley, she had discovered his head dangling in her fireplace, his shoulders firmly stuck in the chimney. Nothing could dislodge him. They had finally sent a smaller boy down to tie a rope around his ankles so they could haul him out the top.
    Mary sighed. She could see why Amelia found Mr. Crenshaw so fascinating.
    Sir Edwin was not a sparkling entertainer, but his conversation was just as interesting. He had described why he believed the remains of a Roman villa were buried on his estate, painting such vivid word pictures of the Roman invasion that she could see the legions marching across Britain. Caroline had hung on every word, and she had stayed in control for the entire visit with hardly a clenched fist to help.
    Neither of the gentlemen had said or done anything to justify her suspicions. The