“It’s a little out of date, but very interesting. Did you know that—”
“Don’t bother with it.” He closed it with a snap and put it aside.
“But I’m interested—”
“Other possibilities have arisen.”
She looked up at him, puzzled. “What possibilities? Do you mean we’re not going to Russia in June?”
“I don’t know, yet. It doesn’t matter.” Nash made an impatient gesture. He really didn’t want to discuss this now. “I bring a message from Jane and Nell that you’re to come at once.”
She rose, anxiously. “Is something wrong?”
“No, but you must come. Now.” He caught her by the hand and led her from the house.
“But this is the way to the stables,” she said after a moment. “I thought you said Jane wanted me.”
“She does. We’re going behind the stables. The boys are in the stables, mucking out stalls, filling water troughs, cleaning tack, and working like navvies. Apparently they consider this seventh heaven.”
She laughed and gave a little skip. “That’s because Harry exchanges work for riding lessons.”
Nash nodded. He knew all about it. He was the one giving the lessons. “I’m surprised they haven’t learned to ride before this.”
“John had a few lessons, but after Papa fell from one and broke his back while hunting, there was no question of any of us riding—all the horses were sold.”
He squeezed her hand. “For someone who’s seen so much death, you’re a cheerful soul, aren’t you?”
She gave a philosophical smile. “Grand-mère lost almost everyone she ever loved in the Terror, but she taught me to make the most of life while I can. Papa died two years ago, and I did mourn him for a year, but out of respect more than anything. We were never close. Besides, you can’t stay gloomy when there are young children to take care of.”
“I suppose not, especially with your lively five.”
“And, of course, finding Papa had left only debts was another distraction.”
He gave a snort of laughter. “I suppose you could call it a distraction.” Survival was what she meant. He glanced down at her with a smile. A living example of everyday courage, his bride.
“I looked your father up in an old copy of Debrett’s,” he told her. “Sir John Woodford?” She nodded. He continued, “It listed an estate. I gather it was sold.”
She shook her head. “It’s entailed—the estate goes to John when he turns one and twenty. Mr. Hulme has rented it out to tenants for a very good sum.”
“Hulme? The old goat you were going to marry?”
She nodded. “He’s John’s trustee. He was Papa’s lifelong friend and neighbor and undertook to restore the estate to profitability by the time of John’s majority. Finance is his passion.”
It wasn’t his only passion, Nash thought darkly. “Why didn’t your father leave the children in his charge, rather than burden a young, single woman?”
“I suppose Papa thought the children were better off with a woman, and finances were more suited to a man. Besides, Papa wanted me to marry Mr. Hulme, too.”
Nash stopped dead. “So when you refused, this Hulme fellow turned you out of the family home and didn’t even provide you with a house?”
She avoided his gaze. “I know some would say it was selfish of me, to put my own desires before the welfare of the children—”
“Nonsense! You did the right thing.”
“Well, I think so, too,” she said frankly. “Mr. Hulme wanted to send the boys and Jane away to school and once I married him I’d have no say in the matter. But they’d just lost their parents and their home. They didn’t need to be sent away to live with strangers. So I wrote to a friend of Grand-mère’s—your uncle—and he offered me the cottage.” She tugged on his arm. “Come on, I don’t want to keep Nell waiting. I think I can guess what I’m going to see,” she told him.
“Oh?” He glanced down at her.
“It appears Jane has always had a burning, though secret ambition to be a horsewoman.” She slanted a mischievous look up at him. “Am I close?”
