what was happening. Kate repeated these things to herself, in fervent supplication.
Perhaps those desperate prayers were heard, because he turned away. She watched his form, wavy and distorted by the glass, until the rise of the hill swallowed him.
Only then did Kate draw breath into her aching lungs. “They’re gone,” she croaked, her tone as cheerful as she could manage. “You were right under Harcroft’s nose, dear, and he didn’t suspect a thing. You see, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Yes,” Louisa said, sounding equally unconvinced. She looked down into Jeremy’s face. “You see?” she told him. “We’re perfectly safe.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
K ATE DIDN’T DARE RETURN to Berkswift by way of the well-used road that led straight there. Visiting Louisa had been risk enough. But if she met Harcroft along that dusty track, his suspicions, never quiet, would leap up.
Instead, she took a route that cut circuitously along fence boundaries, dipping through a small scrub forest. It lengthened her journey from two hours to three. Shadows stretched as she walked. The path led over a small stream, its waters crossable only by means of a few slippery rocks, dotting the trail. She started across, balancing her empty basket on her arm. The stream was shielded on both sides from the sun by a small copse of trees, which dropped yellowing leaves into the mulch underfoot. The walk had calmed her fears. The fields had been quiet, and this little stream presented the perfect picture of solitude: quiet, but for the burble of the water, and hidden from view. She stepped on the last rock, green with moss, almost at the far bank.
At that moment, her husband stepped out from behind a tree.
Kate let out a shriek and stumbled backward. For a second, she teetered on the slippery stone, desperately flinging her arms behind her for balance. The basket wentflying. Then he stepped close. His arms came about her, and he hauled her against his frame.
He was solid and strong. Her heart thumped against his solid chest; his breaths pushed against her breast. Even after her feet were planted on solid ground, he did not let her go.
“Ned. You surprised me. You were so quiet.”
He looked down at her, his hands on her arms. “How terrible of me. Maybe I should wear a bell, like a cow.”
She pulled away from him—just far enough to look back into his eyes. In the overshadowing trees, they seemed dark, impenetrable pools. There was nothing bovine about him; the shadows rendered him rather more wolfish. Her heart pounded. “Or like a goat,” she said. “You may recall I have aspirations in that direction.”
But he was not distracted. “Where were you just now?”
No. Definitely nothing of the cow about him. That question bordered on dangerous, desolate territory.
“Walking.” Kate twisted the tie of her cloak. “And delivering food to the tenants, actually. We’ve had a good run of eggs of late.” She did not dare drop her eyes from his, did not dare let him see how much his question discomfited her. “Besides, walking is healthful, my physician says, and I haven’t the opportunity to do much of it in London. London is a dirty, smoky place, and the parks are overrun by other people. I don’t much get the chance to be alone.” She was talking too much.
He let go of her waist. “ Were you alone?”
“Of course. With whom could I possibly have been walking?”
“I don’t know. I ask only because you jumped from me like a guilty thing.”
“Like a frightened thing, you beast.” She tapped his chest in a pretense of playfulness, but he did not respond. “And what were you doing, lurking behind that tree?”
“I wasn’t lurking, ” he said. “I was waiting for you. I caught a glimpse of you when you crossed the upper field. And yes, Mrs. Evans told me you’d gone to deliver some goods to the tenants. But who lives out west?”
A cold awareness seeped into Kate’s hands. It trickled down the back of her
Perhaps those desperate prayers were heard, because he turned away. She watched his form, wavy and distorted by the glass, until the rise of the hill swallowed him.
Only then did Kate draw breath into her aching lungs. “They’re gone,” she croaked, her tone as cheerful as she could manage. “You were right under Harcroft’s nose, dear, and he didn’t suspect a thing. You see, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Yes,” Louisa said, sounding equally unconvinced. She looked down into Jeremy’s face. “You see?” she told him. “We’re perfectly safe.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
K ATE DIDN’T DARE RETURN to Berkswift by way of the well-used road that led straight there. Visiting Louisa had been risk enough. But if she met Harcroft along that dusty track, his suspicions, never quiet, would leap up.
Instead, she took a route that cut circuitously along fence boundaries, dipping through a small scrub forest. It lengthened her journey from two hours to three. Shadows stretched as she walked. The path led over a small stream, its waters crossable only by means of a few slippery rocks, dotting the trail. She started across, balancing her empty basket on her arm. The stream was shielded on both sides from the sun by a small copse of trees, which dropped yellowing leaves into the mulch underfoot. The walk had calmed her fears. The fields had been quiet, and this little stream presented the perfect picture of solitude: quiet, but for the burble of the water, and hidden from view. She stepped on the last rock, green with moss, almost at the far bank.
At that moment, her husband stepped out from behind a tree.
Kate let out a shriek and stumbled backward. For a second, she teetered on the slippery stone, desperately flinging her arms behind her for balance. The basket wentflying. Then he stepped close. His arms came about her, and he hauled her against his frame.
He was solid and strong. Her heart thumped against his solid chest; his breaths pushed against her breast. Even after her feet were planted on solid ground, he did not let her go.
“Ned. You surprised me. You were so quiet.”
He looked down at her, his hands on her arms. “How terrible of me. Maybe I should wear a bell, like a cow.”
She pulled away from him—just far enough to look back into his eyes. In the overshadowing trees, they seemed dark, impenetrable pools. There was nothing bovine about him; the shadows rendered him rather more wolfish. Her heart pounded. “Or like a goat,” she said. “You may recall I have aspirations in that direction.”
But he was not distracted. “Where were you just now?”
No. Definitely nothing of the cow about him. That question bordered on dangerous, desolate territory.
“Walking.” Kate twisted the tie of her cloak. “And delivering food to the tenants, actually. We’ve had a good run of eggs of late.” She did not dare drop her eyes from his, did not dare let him see how much his question discomfited her. “Besides, walking is healthful, my physician says, and I haven’t the opportunity to do much of it in London. London is a dirty, smoky place, and the parks are overrun by other people. I don’t much get the chance to be alone.” She was talking too much.
He let go of her waist. “ Were you alone?”
“Of course. With whom could I possibly have been walking?”
“I don’t know. I ask only because you jumped from me like a guilty thing.”
“Like a frightened thing, you beast.” She tapped his chest in a pretense of playfulness, but he did not respond. “And what were you doing, lurking behind that tree?”
“I wasn’t lurking, ” he said. “I was waiting for you. I caught a glimpse of you when you crossed the upper field. And yes, Mrs. Evans told me you’d gone to deliver some goods to the tenants. But who lives out west?”
A cold awareness seeped into Kate’s hands. It trickled down the back of her
Similar Books
