*
Louisa stepped asideas Maxwell Harlow moved past and watched him wander off down the dimly lit corridor. He glanced back ashe reached the end and gave another nod before turning onto Highfield’s east wing, where his bedroom lay.
Something that belongs to me?
Louisa couldn’t begin to imagine what the object might be. Truth be told, she struggled to think clearly at all whenever Maxwell Harlow was nearby.
The wretched man.
At that moment, the candleflame in the window popped and spat, making her jump. “I have to stop this foolish infatuation, Uncle Julian,” she whispered, gazing up at her uncle’s portrait. “It’s really quite silly and nothing will ever come of it.”
The candle spat once more and then settled back into a steady burn.
Louisa heaved a sigh and plopped onto a nearby chair to wait. Shortly thereafter, a sound drew her attention back to the corridor, where she saw the shadowed figure of Maxwell Harlow returning, something clasped in his right hand.
She stood, anticipating.
“Though I didn’t know who you were at the time, Miss Northcott,” he said, “I happened to witness some of your ride across the moor this morning. In particular, the part where you misplaced a certain item.” He handed her the hat that had been snatched by the wind. “I took the liberty of finding it with the hope of reuniting it with its owner. It seems to have survived its airborne journey quite well, despite landing in a gorse bush.”
Louisa gasped. “My hat! Oh, my goodness, I would never have guessed. How kind of you, Mr. Harlow. I believed it gone forever.” His words conjured up another memory from her morning’s ride. “Actually, now you mention it, I think I saw you also. You and your horse, off in the distance. I suppose I should have stopped when my hat went flying, but Byron and I were having far too much fun.”
“Aye, so it appeared.” The man’s eyes narrowed a little. “Byron? Would that be after the notorious lord himself?”
“Yes, it would. I confess to being fascinated by the fellow. I’ve read everything he’s written.”
“Hmm.” Maxwell winced. “A character of note, certainly, though I daresay some of his choices were questionable.”
Louisa shrugged. “Which makes him all the more interesting, I think. Then again, much of—”
A creak on the stair drew her attention.
“What’s this?” Julian appeared at the top of the stairs, arching a single brow as he glanced from Maxwell to Louisa. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all. We were just talking.” Louisa, resenting the accusatory gist of her brother’s remark, pinned him with a hard stare. “I was telling Mr. Harlow of the reason behind Uncle Julian’s candle.”
‘It’s a fine observance,” Maxwell said.
“Yes, it is.” Julian ran a quick gaze over Louisa’s bedroom-attired form. “What the devil are you doing with that hat, Lou? You can’t be going anywhere, surely. Not dressed like that.”
“Of course not.” She maintained her stare, and added a brief, forced smile. “I lost it on the moor this morning and Mr. Harlow found it. He returned it to me just now.”
“Really? How extraordinary.” Julian’s brow lifted again as he regarded Maxwell. “Forgive me, but how on earth could you have known the hat belonged to my sister?”
“I didn’t, at first,” the man replied, unflinchingly. “I was on my way to Highfield Hall this morning when I noticed a young woman riding across the moor and saw the hat fly off.”
“I had Byron at a full gallop when it happened,” Louisa said, her eyes still hurling hypothetical daggers at her brother. “Mr. Harlow kindly retrieved it and only later realized it belonged to me.”
“Ah, I see.” Julian still looked unconvinced. “But why bother retrieving it if you did not know the identity of the person who lost it?”
“I’m sure Mr. Harlow is not obliged to explain his motives to you, Julian,” Louisa said, making no effort to hide her irritation.
“Not obliged, no,” Maxwell replied, “but if it means putting your mind at rest, good sir, I will happily do so. Given the remoteness of the location, and the fact that the young lady was unescorted, I dared to assume she lived locally, and therefore could be easily located. So, I collected the hat and placed it in my saddle bag, intending to enquire further upon my arrival at Highfield Hall, assuming someone here might know of the lady’s identity. The incident completely slipped my mind till Miss Northcott returned from her ride and I saw her in the stables. I realized, then, to whom the hat belonged, but didn’t mention it at the time because I felt it might cause her embarrassment with her father being present. Instead, I decided to wait for a more discreet opportunity, which presented itself a few minutes ago. That is all.”
“A perfectly fine explanation, Mr. Harlow, thank you.” Louisa threw another fierce glance at Julian. “Which I’m certain must now satisfy my brother’s curiosity.”
“It does, indeed,” Julian replied. “I appreciate your frankness, sir.”
“Of course.” Maxell nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Northcott, Mr. Northcott, I’ll bid you both a good night.”
