Page 24 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

A dark curl came loose at her temple, unfurling like a silky ribbon. Her stomach growled again. Benjamin spoke before Miss Saunders could flee, as she was clearly about to do. “Would you care to accompany me on another expedition?”

“An—”

“I’m going in search of a pony, as promised. That should form part of ourconsultations, should it not?” Benjamin borrowed his uncle’s phrase.

“Oh yes. All right.”

“Afteryour breakfast.”

Miss Saunders’s flush deepened. A hand strayed to her midsection and immediately dropped. He did enjoy flustering her, Benjamin thought. Her unease was such a contrast to her usual forthright—not to say abrasive—manner. “I’ll send someone with your letter,” he added.

“I should like it to go quickly.”

Not totally flustered then. Benjamin bowed. “Your wish is my command.”

She made a sound rather like a snort. But it was drowned out by another signal from her stomach, demanding breakfast at once. With a hasty thanks, Miss Saunders hurried away.

Benjamin realized that he was smiling. He’d smiled more in the last few days than in previous months. Once, this might have seemed a betrayal of his bereaved state. But today it didn’t. He decided not to probe the reasons for this change. He would simply enjoy it, he decided as he went off to do his guest’s bidding.

• • •

Mrs. McGinnis’s limited staff had done wonders with the riding habit, Jean thought as she and Lord Furness rode out of the stable yard and into the drive. It had been magically sponged clean of food stains. If only her fatigue could be as easily removed. Wisps of the nightmare hovered in the back of her mind. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“There’s a farm nearby that breeds horses,” replied Lord Furness. “Mrs. Fry also takes in all sorts of stray animals. We’ll see if she has any ponies on hand at present. With expert help.” He indicated the groom who rode behind them.

“So you can keep your word to Geoffrey,” Jean said. The thought made her happy.

“Did you doubt that I would?”

Was he going to be prickly again? She’d thought they were getting on better, that he’d given up challenging every remark she made.

“There may not be any suitable animal,” he added.

They rode on. Although Jean was stiff from yesterday’s expedition, as she seldom rode, she enjoyed the crisp air and the early signs of spring. Leaves were beginning to unfold in the hedges on either side of the road. Tiny flowers peeked from under them, while birds called from the shelter of their branches.

At a break in the bushes, they turned down a lane, which soon opened out into a farmyard. A two-story house on one side faced a barn and sheds on the other. The buildings were neat and well kept, but Jean’s first impression was of a wealth of animals. A trio of dogs ran up to assess them, their barking informative rather than threatening, and she could see cows and sheep in one set of fields, horses in another, and pigs rooting in a fenced pen beside the barn. When she dismounted, she spied a cat curled around her litter beside the front door. Jean stopped to bend over her.

“I hope you’re not going to coo over the kittens,” Lord Furness said, knocking on the door.

“Of course I am,” Jean replied. “For quite some time, in a sickening way. There’s nothing on Earth as charming as a kitten, and if you don’t know that, you may go and grumble elsewhere.”

The door was opened by a large, red-faced woman. The sleeves of her gown were rolled up over muscular arms, and her apron had a dusting of flour.

“Good morning, Mrs. Fry,” said Lord Furness. “I hope you’re well.”

“My lord.” She seemed quite surprised to see him. Turning toward the barn, she called, “Len!” Her voice was so loud that Jean started. When a lad who resembled Mrs. Fry appeared, she added, “Help his lordship’s groom with the horses.”

He hurried out to do so, and they led all three mounts into the barn.

“Come in, my lord and miss,” said Mrs. Fry. “It’s baking day, and we have scones just out of the oven.”

“Thank you, but I don’t want to interrupt your work for too long. I’ve come to see if you might have a pony that would do for my son. He’s five years old.”

“And so he is. How time flies, eh?” Their hostess untied her apron and hung it on a hook inside the door. “I’ve two ponies about the place just now. Come along, and I’ll show you.” She didn’t bother with a wrap but took them through the yard, around the barn, where the Furness groom joined them, and into a fenced enclosure.

There were several horses cropping the grass on the far side. When one of them moved, Jean saw the smaller figures of the ponies beyond them. They stood head to hocks, swishing flies off each other with their tails. One was brown with a pale mane and tail, the other patterned in black and white.

Mrs. Fry led her party across the field and put a hand on the black-and-white pony’s shoulder. “Molly here is fifteen,” she said. “But she has good years in her yet. She’s gentle and even-tempered.”

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