Charlotte knew her brother was checking if she was concerned about etiquette, but she was safe from chin-wags here. Mr. Stewart and even Matthew shared very little social connections with her, and Alexander would never say anything that could jeopardize her reputation. Charlotte even felt free enough to trade her widow’s veil for the shepherdess hat. If it hadn’t been for the fact she couldn’t very well change in a carriage with three men, she would have donned the rest of the clothes stashed in her basket.
But she still hesitated. If Mr. Stewart was trying to rid himself of her presence, perhaps it meant that she was close to uncovering a secret.
On the other hand, Mr. Stewart was obviously not inclined to divulge anything. Matthew, however, was not as skilled at evasion. And she wanted to stroll alone with him to hear more of his stories and to watch his features soften as he spoke of the animals he so clearly loved.
“It sounds like a wonderful idea,” Charlotte said cheerily as shelinked her arm companionably through Matthew’s. One of his shy smiles blossomed over his lips.
“It might be best for Banshee to have just the two of us nearby when we introduce her to the capuchin troop,” Matthew said as he began to lead her down a side path. “Fortunately, we will pass Nemea first.”
“Do you come often to Mr. Stewart’s estate?” Charlotte asked as a warm spring breeze ruffled the silk sleeve of her sack-back gown. It was a rather pleasant day to take a sojourn in the country, and Charlotte suddenly wished that she and Matthew were just a man and woman taking a lovely stroll through a pleasure garden without any mystery or impending engagements pressing down upon them. What a fool she’d been during those long-ago summer days at Falcondale Hall when she could have been discovering more about the quiet Matthew Talbot.
“Aye,” Matthew answered, “I am often here when I am not giving lectures at the university or seeing patients. I assist with the animals and work on my contributions to Tavish’s publications.”
“Does Mr. Stewart employ many servants to care for his menagerie?” Charlotte asked.
Matthew glanced away, his face in the wind now. The pieces of hair that were always escaping from his queue blew loose from the leather thong at his nape. He did not appear to notice the tendrils as they danced around his face. Instead, his gaze wandered over the slight rise and fall of the landscape before them.
“Look there.” Matthew jabbed his finger in the direction of a tawny shape stretched out on a large smooth rock with no fence or wall between them and it.
Forgetting that Matthew had entirely ignored her question, Charlotte blinked and then blinked again. When the form drew back its head to emit a terrific roar, she froze.
Banshee was less composed. She screeched and scurried to the top of Charlotte’s broad shepherdess hat. Dimly, Charlotte heard Banshee’s feet rip and crack the straw of the fashionable bergère. The silk ribbon under her chin tightened, but she could only focus on the large predator.
“Why is it not in a cage?” Charlotte asked hoarsely. She considered herself a rather brave woman, but bearding a lion—whether inside or outside of its den—was clearly beyond the stretching point of her courage.
Matthew hurriedly laid his gloved hand over hers. “We are very safe, Lady Charlotte. My apologies for not warning you that we enclose the animals very differently than at the Tower or any other menagerie. We give the animals the maximum amount of possible space to roam. There is a ha-ha separating us from Nemea. He cannot climb the sunk fence.”
Steadying her breath, Charlotte took better stock of her surroundings. At the edge of the gravel path stood a rather ineffective looking hedgerow. She assumed that the recessed stone wall was right behind the shrubbery.
“Shall we move closer?” Matthew asked gently.
“You are certain we will not be in harm’s way?” Charlotte asked, wishing her voice did not sound so terribly ragged.
“I would never imperil you, Lady Charlotte.” Matthew’s already low voice dropped in timbre. It seemed to rumble through Charlotte, leaving delicious ripples in its wake. She wanted to believe him.
But she couldn’t trust him implicitly, not in all things. Yet in this moment, right now, she knew that she could put her faith in him. He would not place her or the animals in danger.
She pressed her fingers lightly against his arm. “Show me what you wish me to see.”
Matthew led them slowly to the boxwood, and Charlotte realized he’d set the snail-like pace to allow her a chance to turn if she wanted. But she didn’t. She matched him step for step until they’d reached the edge of the bush.
“Look over it and down,” Matthew instructed.
Charlotte peered past the shrubbery and discovered a surprisingly deep chasm. Bending over the low-lying hedge, Charlotte peered up and down the moat-like structure. The ground on the lion’s side sloped downward to meet a sheer stone wall that even the big cat could not hope to climb. Although she had seen ha-has before at other estates, she had never come across such an impressive one.
“How clever!” Charlotte said.
“Seamus and John are brilliant when it comes to designing enclosures,” Matthew said. “They both have the makings to become extraordinary engineers.”
“Seamus and John?” Charlotte asked, glancing back at Matthew. She turned just in time to catch a panicked look cross his face before his expression blanked.
“Just a few of Mr. Stewart’s servants who assist with the animals,” Matthew told her. He sounded offhanded on the surface, but his voice seemed tighter than usual. Why would the mention of two workers cause such a reaction?
“What are some of their duties?” Charlotte asked. She kept her voice nonchalant as she fixed her eyes on the lion. Nemea was rolling in the grass now like a big kitty. Even at this distance, his paws appeared massive as they waggled in the air. He was a magnificent animal—all powerful sinew. But the creature’s grace could not distract Charlotte from Matthew’s nervousness. She only pretended that it did.
“Oh, what you would expect, really. Nothing thrilling, to besure,” Matthew answered in a rush before he tilted his head back to address Banshee. “What do you think of the lion? Bigger than a jaguar, isn’t it?”
Banshee moved fretfully on Charlotte’s broad hat. She could hear more of the straw breaking. It seemed like she would need to pay the milliner a visit tomorrow before her mother could catch sight of the damage.
