“Then let us ride that way. Shall we—”
“Oh! Look how fast she rides!” Katherine cried, pointing with her whip. On the horizon, galloping as if she were in a race, was a woman in a green riding habit, the feathers of her hat flattened against her back by her speed.
Kent gave a short laugh. “That, Miss Parish, is Miss Marjorie Quick, a friend of Aunt Jane, who thinks to marry her off to my father.”
“She will not survive long enough to get him to the altar if she rides so recklessly on this uneven ground,” she said. “It is madness.”
“Indeed. Oh but look, there is my father in hot pursuit… he is more circumspect, I think. He knows how an unexpected rabbit hole can catch the unwary.”
There indeed was the earl, riding somewhat more slowly. He saw them watching and waved cheerily, but with no pause in his pace, and before long both riders had vanished over the brow of the hill.
“Did you see that?” Lucas, who had been riding ahead with Emily, cantered back to where Kent and Katherine were. “Miss Quick was described as a bruising rider, and I can see why. She brought four of her own horses with her, did you know that? Would not risk mounting one of our hacks. Father was somewhat offended. One thing he does know is horseflesh, and Bertram’s horse is the equal of anything Miss Quick brought with her.”
“It was indeed a fine animal she was riding,” Katherine said. “Perhaps she simply prefers to ride a familiar mount.”
“Having seen how she rides, I am very glad the poor creatures are hers and not ours,” Lucas said. “Inevitably one of them will break its neck before too long. Where to now, Miss Parish? This is all new to you, so you may decide.”
“Miss Parish has expressed a wish to see the tower,” Kent said.
“Then by all means let us go there,” Lucas said equably. “You must show Miss Parish the view from the top floor, cousin.”
When they arrived at the tower, Kent lifted Katherine down from her horse, which set off all her blushes, but his manner was so practical, not lingering over the business a second longer than necessary, that she soon regained her composure. The grooms took the horses to graze a little distance away, and Lucas and Emily wandered off along the lane between the fields, looking for blackberries, while Kent lifted a stone to find the key to the tower’s weathered wooden door.
After a moment’s bemused fumbling, he lifted the latch of the door and pushed it open. “Hmm. It must have been left unlocked last time someone was here. Come inside. This is the main room, with a kitchen and various store rooms through there, but you will want to see upstairs, I am sure.”
“What is that door over there?”
“Oh… that leads to the cellars.”
“I wonder why such a place needs cellars. Does anyone live here?” she said, looking about at the table with numerous chairs set round it and several well-worn sofas, as if for a large family.
“No one has ever lived here, no, but it is a useful resting place for men working out here. There are occasional parties to dig ditches, trim the hedges or mend the roads, that sort of thing.”
“It looks very clean… well-tended. Someone takes good care of it.”
He looked a little uncomfortable. “It belongs to Eustace, so that would be his responsibility. Shall we go upstairs? It is clear enough today that we will see for miles from the top.”
The stairs wound round the tower, the narrow windows giving changing views of the surrounding land. Katherine counted three floors, each circular room empty of all furniture or draperies. At the top was a room with large windows on all sides, provided with a brazier, a rather moth-eaten rug, several sagging chairs and sofas, and a low pallet with blankets disarranged, as if someone had just that minute risen from it. A table beside one of the windows bore a candlestick, a plate speckled with crumbs and a half eaten cake, and a tankard, as well as a key.
“Ah, there it is,” Kent murmured. “I wish people would remember to lock up when they leave.”
“If they leave,” Katherine said, pointing to the abandoned cake and tankard. “Are you sure no one lives here?”
Kent laughed. “Quite sure. The men who use this place are not the tidiest of creatures. Look, this is Sinclair’s telescope. Is it not the most beautiful object?”
“Oh, it is lovely,” she said, running one finger appreciatively over its gleaming brass. “Your brother must be assiduous with the polish to keep it in such wonderful condition.”
“Ah, that is my doing,” he said, grinning at her.
“It is a credit to you. What is that house over there?”
“My brother Eustace’s estate, Welwood-on-the-Hill.”
“Of course. But why is the telescope pointing towards it? Do the men who come here like to spy on your brother?”
He frowned. “I cannot say. It is odd, for normally the telescope is set up at the eastern window looking out over the moors, but usually I am the only one who touches it. Perhaps Eustace has been here and moved it. Do you want to step out onto the balcony? There is a stair up to the roof if you want the best possible view.”
“Is it safe?”
