Dawes shook his head. “So she did on the road to London.”
“Why?”
The agent shrugged. “Can’t say truly, my lord. The family pushed her to London, I know, and that don’t hold with her ’cause she ain’t been broken to harness yet.”
“Yes, I received the impression she was independent,” Stefton said drily.
“Just so, my lord.”
“I gather she hasn’t been riding her horse.”
“No, sir, and that has me stumped plain. Not like her. Sent ’round a note saying as much. Got back a request for patience,” Dawes finished, shaking his head in puzzlement.
“Patience, hmm?” Stefton steepled his fingertips as he thought. He suddenly looked back at Dawes, dropping his hands to his thighs. “Would you trust me with Gwyneth?"
“Aye,” said Sir Eugene’s man.
Stefton laughed. “You’re right to be cautious.” He stood up to leave.
“Expect my groom, Friarly, for the animal at four o’clock today. Have her saddled for Miss Shreveton. With a sidesaddle,” he said as an afterthought, his hand reaching for the door handle.
“Very good, my lord,” Dawes said. He scratched his head. Sir Eugene would not be pleased with these goin’s on, he thought as he watched the Marquis leave. He would not be pleased at all.
“Catherine,are you still working on that same handkerchief you started three days ago?”
“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Catherine returned patiently. “I told you when you instructed me to embroider my initials on these that I am not proficient with a needle.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Harth contradicted, “every woman learns needlework from the cradle. It is a talent we are born with.”
“I’m afraid I was passed over when that blessing was bestowed,” Catherine remarked drily.
“Watch your tongue, young woman, I’ll not have blasphemy in my house!”
Startled, Catherine stuck her needle in wide of the mark she intended. She swallowed an oath and worked the needle back out. “I beg your pardon, Aunt Alicia,” she said, her jaw jutting forward as she concentrated on her task.
“If you don’t like needlework, you and Susannah should have accepted Mrs. Howlitch’s kind invitation and gone with her and Iris and Dahlia to Harding and Howell’s this afternoon.”
“Oh, but Aunt Alicia, I believe including us in her invitation was merely a nicety. Mrs. Howlitch was just as glad we did not come.”
“Nonsense.”
“Well, it did seem to me that she is more interested in securing one or the other of the twins as a bride for her son Peter.”
“Both girls may look much higher than Mr. Peter Howlitch for a husband. His fortune may be respectable, but I quite had him in mind more for you, Susannah.”
“Me! Oh no, Aunt Alicia.”
“I’m afraid Captain Chilberlain will not do at all. It would be kinder to sever that connection,” Lady Harth continued reflectively, ignoring Susannah’s outburst. “I am persuaded that as a naval officer, your dear father could not countenance your union with an army man.”
“Oh, no,” Susannah said in a rush, “Papa is not like that at all!”
Lady Harth smiled condescendingly. “Be guided by me, my dear. It will not do,” she tried to say kindly.
“But—”
Her aunt waved an admonitory finger at her. “No more. We shall find you a nice husband, never fear.”
Susannah lapsed into miserable silence.
