When Callum didn’t reply, the valet bowed again and mumbled his goodnight, turning and fleeing from the Marquess’s chambers. Left alone with his thoughts, Callum wondered at what his own household had noticed. Beatrix was certainly a brave young woman, one with a strange air about her, as they had noticed in their brief dealings with her.
But her beauty? It was growing more and more obvious by the moment, and Callum couldn’t help but see her face before him at all hours of the day. He was sure that hers would be the face he saw in his dreams that very night, even if he couldn’t specify which of her features was so alluring. What was so intriguing about her, though, that even his servants who’d spent so little time in her presence might have made such a full assessment?
There was a knock at the door, and Callum bade them enter. Lloyd opened it and announced a letter for the marquess which had just arrived by courier.
“At this hour?” Callum asked, glancing at the clock and frowning before rising to take it from the butler. “What could be so important that a rider might be dispatched during the night?”
“It came from the officer of the court, the Detective Hand who paid a call. The rider said it was urgent, My Lord,” Lloyd said, holding out the silver tray with the folded letter on top.
Callum opened it and read its contents quickly, his worry turning to relief. Reading it aloud, he went on to explain, “The detective only seeks to warn us that roving bands of outlaws may have been seen upon the highways nearby. That is rather kind of him to take the trouble to issue such a warning, though I wonder if it was so urgent it couldn’t have been shared via post tomorrow.”
“I know not, My Lord. But the warning has come. I will see to it that all of the staff are made aware,” the butler said.
“Thank you, Lloyd. Excellent idea,” Callum said. “Good night, then.”
“Good night, My Lord.” The butler left and closed the door behind him, leaving Callum to his rest.
But rest was the last thing on Callum’s mind. Roving bands of outlaws? Such as those who might seek to bring home a certain lady who belongs with them? Callum was astonished to feel how deep that fear ran. It was not merely fear of being descended upon by these villains, but fear of something else… of Beatrix leaving forever.
Chapter 16
“Good day!” Beatrix said brightly as she emerged from the house, striding up to Callum purposefully. “I see you’re ready for our ride?”
Callum turned at the sound of her voice and nearly stumbled backwards. He looked at Beatrix and then immediately looked away, uncertain as to how he should respond.
“Is something the matter?” Beatrix asked knowingly.
Callum coughed to cover his embarrassment, then said, “I wasn’t expecting you…”
“You weren’t expecting me? But you’re the one who invited me. Just last evening, you proposed the idea of a ride through your estate. And here I am, as agreed,” Beatrix announced, fighting back laughter.
“No, I mean I wasn’t expecting… that you would be wearing trousers.” Callum still looked away, as though unsure of what to do.
“I’m sorry, but what did you expect that I would be wearing? The gown I wore to dinner last night?” she said, laughing. “I fear you might have a shortage of ladies’ riding habits stashed in a closet somewhere because your servants brought me another dress, one that would be most unsuitable for the occasion.”
“I am happy to postpone until I can arrange for something more appropriate, if you wish,” he said, risking an awkward glance at Beatrix. For her part, she ducked her head to meet his downcast gaze.
“My Lord, this is the appropriate attire for riding a horse. My father wouldn’t hear of me attempting to ride in something so cumbersome and dangerous as long skirts and many layers beneath.”
“Your father dressed you in men’s trousers to go riding?” Callum asked, barely containing his shock.
“Of course,” she answered, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Did you think my father would have taught me to ride like a lady? Or would you think a notorious outlaw would want his only child to know how to ride safely and with great speed?”
“I… I see. I’m sorry, I was merely surprised by it. I wasn’t thinking of your specific situation,” Callum explained, slowing turning to look at her. He was pleased to see that the cut of the clothing fit her well, and that she did not look as if a poor beggar had cast off his unwanted garments on her.
“It’s quite all right. And if it eases your conscience any, know that many ladies ride in trousers now. Oh no, not the fancy girls who prance about the town square on their gentle ponies, hoping to be seen by their well-to-do peers. But women who have work that must be done and who rely upon their horses to see them through it often must wear long garments. It’s that or risk the scandal of a bare ankle!”
Callum blushed at her description, his cheeks nearly matching his hair. He managed a weak laugh, though, and introduced Beatrix to the horse he had chosen for her.
“This is Snow,” he said, extending the reins to a beautiful white mare with a long mane.
“She’s beautiful,” Beatrix said, taking the reins and coming close to let the animal get a sense of her. She opened her hand and let the horse see her empty palm before placing it upon the animal’s velvet-soft nose.
Snow dropped her head a moment later and nudged Beatrix’s hand until it rested just below her forelock, practically begging to be scratched behind the ears. Beatrix laughed merrily, a sound that delighted Callum to no end.
“What an intelligent creature!” Beatrix said. “I like a girl who knows how to speak her mind and demand what she wants!”
“That is a most apt description of Snow, I warn you!” he answered, laughing as the horse shook its head and stepped repeatedly on her front hooves as though dancing. “She’s telling us she’s stood here long enough, she wants to go for a ride.”
