Indiscreet by Mary Balogh

just sometimes, one of them could be out of tune with the others. Sometimes one of them could tell the others to go to hell and mean it.
    She was not a topic of light banter.
    And yet if he could not pick up the mood of the conversation, they would never leave him alone. Or her.
    They had turned onto the driveway on their way back to thestables and the house. Probably there would be a few others up by now and ready for breakfast. Clarissa had planned an excursion for the afternoon to Pinewood Castle five miles distant, weather permitting. Clearly weather was going to permit. He was going to be expected to escort Ellen Hudson. Probably something would have been arranged for this morning also to somehow throw them together.
    He drew his horse to a halt suddenly. “You two ride on,” he said, making his tone deliberately light. “I would hate to be a distraction to the two of you when you are so deep in mourning.”
    They both looked at him and at each other in some surprise and the teasing light died from their eyes. One thing they had learned over the years of their friendship was sensitivity to one another’s moods. They might not realize immediately that one of the others was not sharing the mood of the group, but as soon as they did, they were immediately sympathetic.
    â€œAnd you need to be alone,” Nat said. “Fair enough, Rex.”
    â€œWe will see you back at the house,” Eden said.
    Not a word about believing he was going to ride back to find Catherine Winters. Not a suggestion of a teasing gleam in their eyes. He could not quite understand why he could not himself see the fun of the situation. After all, he had been rejected before. They all had. And they had all usually been able to laugh at their own expense as well as at one another. None of them was infallibly irresistible to the fair sex, after all.
    He wheeled his horse without a word and made his way back down the drive. He might have pretended to have an errand in the village, but it was rather early for that. Besides, they wouldhave known that he lied. He turned away from the village when he reached the bottom of the drive and rode back along the lane they had ridden just a few minutes before. He did not hurry. He hoped that enough time had elapsed that she would be gone without a trace. Not that there were many byways along which she might have been lost to sight. And he knew that her dog would have slowed her down since she did not keep him on a leash and he liked to wander and explore as they walked.
    He hoped that he would not be able to catch up to her. Even so, he was disappointed when it seemed that she had indeed disappeared from sight. After riding for a few minutes, he could see no sign of her and yet he could see for some distance ahead. He soon realized where she must have gone, though. One of the side gates into the park suddenly came into view. It was closed, but then, she would have shut it after her to keep the deer inside. He tried the gate. It opened easily. It was obviously in frequent use. He maneuvered his horse around it and went inside.
    There were ancient trees along this border of the park. It had been a favorite childhood playground. Even the smell of it was familiar and the shade and the silence. He dismounted and led his horse by the reins. Perhaps she had not come this way after all. But even if she had not, he would continue on his way and return home by this route. He had always liked trees. For some reason they could always be relied upon to bring a sense of peace.
    And then he heard the snapping of twigs and the little brown-and-white terrier came loping along and set its front paws up against his legs. It wagged its tail. He must have made a friend, the viscount thought wryly. It did not even bark.
    â€œGet down, sir,” he instructed the dog. “I do not appreciate having paw marks either on my boots or on my pantaloons.”
    The dog licked at his hand. He had noticed before that