Page 47 of How to Cross a Marquess (The Way to a Lord's Heart 3)

Tom eyed him. John didn’t care for that expression. At times, Tom made him feel quite transparent. “Reckon I’d like to see the pathway,” Tom said finally.

John jumped up. “Splendid!”

“We’ll take care,” said the older boy as he stood. “Give me your word you’ll heed me?”

“Of course,” said John, ready to promise anything in order to escape.

They took the horses in the Clough House stable that they were permitted to use. “I got to stop at Chatton on the way,” Tom said as they rode.

“Why?”

“I told the head gardener I’d help him out today. Collecting seed.”

“You have to do jobs like that?”

“Don’t have to. I like to. You’d be surprised what you can learn.” Tom turned his mount toward the castle. “It ain’t out of the way,” the older boy pointed out.

John could see there was no use arguing, and in fact he didn’t want to go to Lindisfarne alone. Tom’s company made roaming the neighborhood an easygoing pleasure instead of a challenge. So he gave in.

At Chatton Castle, John waited outside the gates, on his horse, nervous that someone would come along and forbid his adventure. But Tom was inside only a few minutes. Soon enough they were on their way again. “Do you suppose people have really been swept away from the Lindisfarne path?” John asked.

“They say so,” replied Tom.

“Can you swim?”

This earned John a sharp glance. Tom nodded. “Can you?”

“Not very well.” There was a pond at John’s school. But there was also a boisterous group who enjoyed holding smaller boys underwater until they choked. He avoided the activity.

“Well, it’s fortunate we ain’t going into any water then,” said Tom.

He used the dry tone that John had noticed before but didn’t always understand. Tom was an odd person. John’s father would certainly say that he wasn’t a gentleman and disapprove of the friendship. Yet Tom was quite intelligent. He knew all sorts of things. And he could talk to people—anybody, really—with an easy facility that filled John with awe.

An hour after this, Macklin and Roger returned to Chatton Castle from a visit to a new type of cottage Roger was having built on his estate. The appointment, long scheduled, had tasked Roger’s patience to the limit. He’d wanted only to ride to Clough House and speak to Fenella.

Why had she refused to let him propose? She’d known he meant to. He was certain of that. But she’d hurried away as if she didn’t want to hear.

A stab of fear went through him. Surely she couldn’t have kissed him in that way if she meant to reject him? But why not settle the matter then? Roger could think of nothing but his lovely neighbor. He ached with wanting her. Was she punishing him for past slights? Roger shook his head. That wasn’t like her. She’d never done so in the past, even when he’d been at his most annoying. He admitted it; he’d behaved badly. Perhaps another apology was in order? He would gladly offer one, but that didn’t feel like the crux of the matter.

Only Fenella could tell him. In fact, why had he come upstairs to change out of his riding clothes? He would go to Clough House right now, insist on speaking to her, and discover what was in her mind. Then he would do whatever was required to win her.Anything, Roger thought.Anything.

He turned to his bedchamber door, and was caught by a knock on the panels. Roger opened it to find Macklin on his threshold. “I have a note from Tom,” the earl said. “He and Miss Fairclough’s nephew have ridden up to Lindisfarne to look at the sands.”

“Why would Tom do that?” Roger asked. “He knew John was forbidden to go there.”

“I suspect that John refused to do as he was told.”

All too likely, Roger thought. Fenella’s nephew was an irrepressible sprig. Even so, he shouldn’t have snapped at the boy as he did yesterday. He was aware of having gone beyond the line there.

“And when Tom couldn’t dissuade him, he went along,” Macklin added. “Taking care to leave word.”

Roger nodded. Young Tom had shown himself to be remarkably levelheaded. “We’d better let the Faircloughs know. I’ll go after them.”

“I’ll accompany you,” Macklin said.

They returned to the stable. Roger sent a stable boy off with a note to Clough House and procured a length of rope before they mounted up and started off.

They’d hardly gone a mile when they overtook a gig on the road. Fenella held the reins.

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