She finished her soup and went above to return to bed. Perhaps Mrs. Hoover was right. Maybe Lord Thornhill would stay at Crestview Park and lend a hand to the horses. With time maybe he could even manage it all. He might even get his cousin to permit Galahad to breed with Guinevere.
The idea should please her and give her heart. Instead a heavy thickness lodged below her heart. She forced herself to acknowledge the sadness for what it was.
If Thornhill took an active part here, she would see that face and those eyes daily—while he built a life and a family with her younger sister.
* * *
The next morning Adam went down to the kitchen to see what Mrs. Smith had left for breakfast. He found porridge and crisped salt pork and coffee again. Hardly the variety or richness he would be enjoying at Nigel’s house right now, but he found it more satisfying.
A step he now recognized came down the stairs. Caroline entered, dressed in gray pantaloons and a white shirt. The linen fell over breasts he doubted suffered the restriction of stays. She served herself some food and sat at the long table.
“What are you doing up and dressed? You should be resting today, Miss Dunham.”
“Any more rest and I would go mad.” She ate heartily, then gave him her attention. “I see they almost fit.”
He looked down at his garments. He had used the ones she provided again. “Well enough. Thank goodness for the braces, though, or these trousers would be down at my ankles when I stood up.”
She giggled. “That would give new meaning to your being an upstanding gentleman.”
“I will picture that now whenever a man is called that.”
“They were my father’s. He was similar in height, and an active man his whole life. There is a shorter coat than yours that you can use if you want to ride with me. I am going out and you can come along if you want.”
Eager now, he finished his coffee quickly. “Where are we going?”
“I thought I should see how the rest of the manor fares with this cold and snow.”
They saddled the two horses in the stable, mounted, and rode toward the hill. She pointed to her right. “Those woods are ours and are good for hunting. Fowl and rabbits mostly, but on occasion deer. We will go around to the other side this way so we stay in the sun.”
That sun shone brightly, making the land glisten with sparkles of rose and blue. The snow softened all sounds, even the crunch of their horses’ hooves through the frosty surface. Little wind meant the cold was bearable, even invigorating.
They rode around the north end of the woods and onto a fairly flat plain. “It is an oddity,” she said while her arm swept the view. “It is as if the land just rose in one big mass. When we had the large herd, they tended to summer here but did not care for it in winter. There is water, but it is over at the far side, near our border. It is down a little cliff, however, so not convenient to horses.”
“It is a plateau then. Is it fertile?”
“Grasses grow on it, not much else. I doubt it could be farmed, but it might do for sheep if we wanted to build that kind of husbandry. Your cousin tried to buy it from my father, but I can’t imagine why.”
Nigel had tried to purchase part of the Dunham property? He had enough already, nor did this look to be a profitable patch. “Perhaps he sought to make amends.”
“My father would have none of it, no matter what the reasons. His solicitor offered again after my father’s death, but I refused, too. That was probably rash and sentimental. The money would have been useful.”
She turned her horse abruptly and used her heels. Adam followed and they flew over the land, around the hill, past the pond, and on. To the west he could see the horses.
“They appear well enough,” he said when his and Caroline’s horses slowed to a walk and plunged in among them. “Now this one here is handsome. I had not noticed him before.” The young stallion was almost black and maybe two years old. “Are you going to race him?”
“One or two races would be good, to establish his speed and value. The fees, however . . .” She pointed to two other horses. “More important is to breed the mares. Guinevere, and those two. We need to bring in other blood.”
“I disagree. If you race this one and he wins or places, Crestview’s name will be reborn. If you race Guinevere you will be famous at once. Even breeding the others will become easier as other farms seek yours out.”
“I know how it is done,” she said mildly.
“Of course. My apologies.”
She laughed. “You can’t help it. You are a man. Even Jason tries to tell me my business at times, and he is no baron.”
Adam fell in beside her as they moved out of the herd. “Jason? Who is he?”
She turned to look at him. “Ah, that is right. You never learned his name. Jason is the young man who helped me abduct you.”
