My heart raced, and I blinked at the beginnings of tears. This explained why my parents’ portrait did not hang in the family gallery. Aunt Barton once professed to have placed the painting near the nursery for my convenience. “Who else knows the truth?”
“I have confided in my friend Mr. Hayward, and Noah has known for the past two years. I have not yet told Cassie, but I shall do so soon.”
Noah already knows. Yet he had always treated me the same way—as a sister. “What am I to call you?”
“You must continue to call me ‘Uncle’ and call Noah and Cassie ‘Cousin’ as before. Nothing has changed. We may not share your blood, but we shall always consider you to be family. This is your home, and you belong with us.”
His words of assurance settled over me, and my respiration calmed.
For a time, neither of us spoke. Then a rhythmic sound broke through the silence in the room: my uncle’s boot tapped on the wooden floor. He coughed. “There is one final matter that pertains to your uncle Gardiner. When you have asked whether you might see him, I have made excuses to put you off. But you ought to know the truth. Your uncle is a dishonest and disreputable man. He appears to have no interest in seeing you, and for that I am grateful.”
“Oh dear, I had no idea.” Faint memories came to the forefront of my mind: Uncle Gardiner spending time with me in the nursery, and my aunt Barton encouraging me to visit him. Did those things actually happen? “But I…I remember my uncle Gardiner as a kind man, and Aunt Barton spoke well of him.”
His lips rose momentarily in a faint smile. “That is true. My dearest wife tended to see the best in others. However, in this instance she had been deceived. Your uncle Gardiner is a clever man. He can be cordial and charming when he wishes, such as when he engaged you in the nursery, yet he is neither honourable nor trustworthy.”
“That is a shame.” Besides him, I had no other living relation on my late mother’s side of the family. Mrs. Phillips, my mother’s sister, had succumbed to the same virulent outbreak of ague that took the lives of my parents and sister. My late father’s estate, Longbourn, had been entailed and passed to a distant cousin whom I had never met, a Mr. Collins.
“Yes, it is a lamentable circumstance. But you need not be concerned, my dear. I shall never allow Mr. Gardiner anywhere near you.”
August 1806
Knight's Manor
Elizabeth
I jerked awake in my pitch-dark room to incessant banging; someone knocked upon my door.
“Lizzy, wake up.” Noah’s familiar voice could not be mistaken, despite his lowered tone.
I sat up. “Has the foal come?”
“Yes, she arrived fifteen minutes ago. She is healthy and so is Thea.”
“Thank goodness! I shall be ready in a few minutes.” I threw off the bed-clothes and dressed in haste. Last night, Uncle had insisted I retire rather than sit up with Noah and our head groom, Joe, in anticipation of the foaling. The ten-year-old dam, Thea, a grey Arabian, had been my favourite mount since I outgrew my sweet Shetland pony. I had learnt to ride eight years earlier, at the age of seven, with instruction from my uncle, Joe, and Noah. Both Joe and my cousin had a masterful way with horses, and I strived to emulate them.
When I burst from my room, Noah, who had been pacing, whipped towards me and grinned. “Let us go.” We ran down the stairs whilst trying not to make noise lest we wake anyone. At almost six feet tall, my cousin towered over me. Like Cassie, he favoured his late mother in looks, with fair skin, blond hair, a dusting of freckles across his cheeks, and deep blue eyes. I had harboured a childish infatuation with Noah from the age of five until I grew to be nine or so and began to view him in a fraternal way.
“What does she look like?” I glanced at Noah as we darted down the front steps.
“She is a beauty, a sorrel with a blaze and four white socks. When I left, she had not yet stood.”
Joe had said that a sound foal ought to stand within two hours of birth; she still had plenty of time. We entered the stable, with its comforting scents of horses, hay, and leather. Uncle Barton looked back at us, grinning.
“Ah, there you are, Lizzy.” He stepped away from the door to Thea’s stall and swept his hand, urging me closer. “Come and see our newest horse.”
I ran the rest of the way. Thea licked the newborn’s forehead. The sorrel fillystoodon trembling legs beside her dam. I beamed at Uncle and Noah in turn. “She is already on her feet!”
My uncle nodded. “Yes, she rose up moments before your arrival as though to impress you.”
The foal moved to face me, and I stared into her shiny obsidian eyes. What a fascinating creature—so glorious and yet so…vulnerable. At the sight of her, an idea took shape in my mind: Would Uncle allow me to train her? Noah had already trained several colts on his own. My chest muscles clenched. Surely my uncle intended to keep this foal!
I tipped my head to view Uncle Barton. “I hope you are not thinking of selling this one.”
“Oh no. We shall keep her.”
“Do you promise?”
A soft chuckle stirred his chest. “Yes, I promise. We can always use another fine Arabian mare.”
