“I thought you might like a morning ride,” Quint said.
“Oh, yes! Yes!” By then she was almost running, and her smile of joy practically split her face. But when she reached the horses, she slowed and looked back at him. “Which one shall I ride?” she asked.
Quint glanced at the chestnut mare he had been about to suggest she take, and then decided against speaking up. There was a gelding so pale he appeared white that Quint preferred when he was home, and he saw Catherine’s face break into a rapturous smile at the sight of the horse.
“You choose,” he said.
She glanced away from the white gelding. “Really?”
“Please. Take your choice.”
“I—” She glanced at the white horse again and then at the others. With a last longing look at the gelding, she said, “I’ll ride the chestnut, I think.”
Quint laughed, and she spun round.
“Why do you laugh, sir?”
“Because that was very noble of you, but I didn’t bring you out here this morning so you could be noble. You want to ride Thor, don’t you?”
Her eyes strayed to the white horse again. “Is that his name?”
“Yes, and you’re staring at him like a starving child stares at a mince pie. Ride him, Catherine. He’s yours whenever you want.”
She blinked at him, and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. “But what will you ride, then? I am sure Thor must be your favorite horse. He is such a beauty.”
“I’ll ride Hazard over there.” He pointed to a dappled tan-and-brown horse. “Come on, let’s go. The morning is getting away from us.”
They rode away from the stable, Quint leading the way. Initially, they gave the horses their heads and galloped into the brisk spring morning. When the horses tired, Quint took her on a meandering tour of Ravensland’s extensive grounds.
“You have a good seat,” Quint said. “And you handle Thor very well.”
“Thank you,” she said, but he saw the telltale blush.
“Now what have I said to embarrass you?” he asked.
“I’m not used to compliments,” she said, looking away. “And I couldn’t tell if that one had a double meaning.” The last was said so quietly, Quint missed several of the words and it took him a minute to piece the statement together. When he did, he laughed.
“Yes, that seat is nice, too.”
“Sir!” she said with a shake of her head, and then she spurred Thor faster. The horses galloped over the green countryside, up small hills and past rambling brooks. Flowers were beginning to bloom in the wild places, and birds sang with abandon from the trees.
A while later they rode beside one another again, and Catherine said, “This is beautiful country. Did you grow up here?”
“No. My family estate is in Derbyshire, but I spent the occasional week or two here when I was a boy. My grandfather acquired the land and built the house. He intended it for my father, a house of his own until he inherited the marquessate.”
“And did your father ever live here?”
Quint shook his head. “My grandfather died just after the house was finished. My father became the marquess at age fifteen. The house was given to me when I became of age, and I hope to live here many years.”
Catherine nodded. “I am sure your mother and father are very nice people. What do they think of all that has happened between us?”
Quint gave her a sideways glance. She didn’t ask the easy questions. “Naturally, I wrote to my father as soon as I realized what had happened. I asked his advice but as yet have received no reply.”
“Too soon, I imagine,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Was that one of the ‘friends’ you told me about?”
