stop him, he strode to the door and opened it.
Her daughter, who obviously had her ear plastered to the wood panel, tumbled inside. She popped up with the speed of a rabbit, looking from Cochran to Catherine with wide-eyed curiosity. “Hello,” she said.
“Miss Sophie,” he said. “It is nice to finally meet you.”
“It is?” her daughter asked.
Catherine angled her body between them. “Sophie, run along. I believe you have lessons to finish.”
“I heard your voices.” She didn’t budge. “Aren’t you going to see Meghan McCarthy?”
“Yes,” Catherine said, disturbed by the way Cochran continued to stare at her daughter. “I’m leaving for the McCarthys now.”
In a stage whisper to Cochran, Sophie said, “She’s insane.”
“Sophie, we do not discuss such things in front of visitors.”
Cochran glanced at Catherine.
“She means enceinte. In the family-way,” she provided.
“McCarthy,” he said. “This Meghan is Irish?”
Her daughter nodded. “Mama’s going to try to find out who the father is.”
“Sophia Adele, enough gossip,” Catherine said. “Back to the nursery. Now.”
Her daughter, not used to Catherine’s sharp tone, dropped her head. “Sorry, Mama.” She ran from the room.
With her daughter no longer under Cochran’s sharp gaze, Catherine was finally able to take a full breath. “My apologies, sir. Sophie does not meet many strangers.”
“Like her mother, she has made this a most productive visit.”
She stared at him in confusion until she recalled his comment in London about wanting to meet Jeffrey’s daughter.
“Now I will leave you to your appointment,” he said. “Sounds like you have a challenge ahead of you—in more ways than one, to be sure.”
Catherine did not need the reminder of the terrible task ahead of her. How had she become entrenched in espionage? She prayed Lord Somerton cooperated with the Foreign Office’s edict, and soon.
After collecting Cochran’s hat and gloves, Catherine led the official to his sleek black curricle. “If I locate the item, how will I notify you?”
He settled onto the high bench and accepted the reins from Teddy. “You won’t. I’ll be in touch. Good day, Mrs. Ashcroft.”
She followed his curricle’s breakneck progress down the lane, while smoothing her fingers over her aching throat.
“Gypsy’s saddled and ready for a nice trot, Mrs. Ashcroft.”
“Thank you, Teddy.” Using the mounting block, she settled onto the saddle and arranged her skirts before taking the reins. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
Catherine kicked Gypsy into motion, her mind a constant stream of ifs , buts , hows , and whens . She must set aside this issue of Lord Somerton’s list of agents for the next couple hours and focus on Meghan McCarthy. The girl’s situation needed her full attention.
But her good intentions ground to a halt the moment her gaze swept westward. On a low rise separating their two properties, the earl sat astride a monstrous black horse. Apprehension stiffened her spine. She peered down the lane and was relieved to find it empty.
However, her perceptive mare sensed her rider’s anxiety and became agitated, forcing Catherine’s attention away. Once she had regained control of Gypsy, she squinted up at the hill. Nothing but undulating grass met her gaze.
A breeze whipped by, ruffling Gypsy’s mane and chilling Catherine’s heated flesh.
She shivered.
Eight
August 12
“Mama, I have to go .”
Sophie’s indelicate comment took a moment to penetrate the dark layer of Catherine’s thoughts. She had not been able to focus on anything since her disturbing discussion with Cochran yesterday and Lord Somerton’s unexpected—although brief—appearance at Winter’s Hollow. As a result, her talk with Meghan McCarthy had the same dismal results as previous attempts they’d made to discover her lover’s identity.
“Mama?” Sophie squirmed at her side.
“Five more
Her daughter, who obviously had her ear plastered to the wood panel, tumbled inside. She popped up with the speed of a rabbit, looking from Cochran to Catherine with wide-eyed curiosity. “Hello,” she said.
“Miss Sophie,” he said. “It is nice to finally meet you.”
“It is?” her daughter asked.
Catherine angled her body between them. “Sophie, run along. I believe you have lessons to finish.”
“I heard your voices.” She didn’t budge. “Aren’t you going to see Meghan McCarthy?”
“Yes,” Catherine said, disturbed by the way Cochran continued to stare at her daughter. “I’m leaving for the McCarthys now.”
In a stage whisper to Cochran, Sophie said, “She’s insane.”
“Sophie, we do not discuss such things in front of visitors.”
Cochran glanced at Catherine.
“She means enceinte. In the family-way,” she provided.
“McCarthy,” he said. “This Meghan is Irish?”
Her daughter nodded. “Mama’s going to try to find out who the father is.”
“Sophia Adele, enough gossip,” Catherine said. “Back to the nursery. Now.”
Her daughter, not used to Catherine’s sharp tone, dropped her head. “Sorry, Mama.” She ran from the room.
With her daughter no longer under Cochran’s sharp gaze, Catherine was finally able to take a full breath. “My apologies, sir. Sophie does not meet many strangers.”
“Like her mother, she has made this a most productive visit.”
She stared at him in confusion until she recalled his comment in London about wanting to meet Jeffrey’s daughter.
“Now I will leave you to your appointment,” he said. “Sounds like you have a challenge ahead of you—in more ways than one, to be sure.”
Catherine did not need the reminder of the terrible task ahead of her. How had she become entrenched in espionage? She prayed Lord Somerton cooperated with the Foreign Office’s edict, and soon.
After collecting Cochran’s hat and gloves, Catherine led the official to his sleek black curricle. “If I locate the item, how will I notify you?”
He settled onto the high bench and accepted the reins from Teddy. “You won’t. I’ll be in touch. Good day, Mrs. Ashcroft.”
She followed his curricle’s breakneck progress down the lane, while smoothing her fingers over her aching throat.
“Gypsy’s saddled and ready for a nice trot, Mrs. Ashcroft.”
“Thank you, Teddy.” Using the mounting block, she settled onto the saddle and arranged her skirts before taking the reins. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
Catherine kicked Gypsy into motion, her mind a constant stream of ifs , buts , hows , and whens . She must set aside this issue of Lord Somerton’s list of agents for the next couple hours and focus on Meghan McCarthy. The girl’s situation needed her full attention.
But her good intentions ground to a halt the moment her gaze swept westward. On a low rise separating their two properties, the earl sat astride a monstrous black horse. Apprehension stiffened her spine. She peered down the lane and was relieved to find it empty.
However, her perceptive mare sensed her rider’s anxiety and became agitated, forcing Catherine’s attention away. Once she had regained control of Gypsy, she squinted up at the hill. Nothing but undulating grass met her gaze.
A breeze whipped by, ruffling Gypsy’s mane and chilling Catherine’s heated flesh.
She shivered.
Eight
August 12
“Mama, I have to go .”
Sophie’s indelicate comment took a moment to penetrate the dark layer of Catherine’s thoughts. She had not been able to focus on anything since her disturbing discussion with Cochran yesterday and Lord Somerton’s unexpected—although brief—appearance at Winter’s Hollow. As a result, her talk with Meghan McCarthy had the same dismal results as previous attempts they’d made to discover her lover’s identity.
“Mama?” Sophie squirmed at her side.
“Five more
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