“I wanted to surpriseyou.”
“Oh Harry! It’s a perfectlywonderful surprise.” She gazed into his warm brown eyes. “You’rewonderful.”
He raised his eyebrows. “AmI?”
“Why don’t you like riding?You were with the 7thHussars weren’t you?”
“Lost the taste for it whenI had to shoot my horse before we left the Continent.”
“Oh Harry.” She pressed akiss to his cheek.
“I have a feeling I’ll bedoing a considerable amount of riding in the future.” He grinned ather. “If I’m to keep track of my wife.”
He took her arm, and they returned tothe salon.
After knocking, Mrs. Lawson enteredthe room. “Would you care to freshen up before refreshment isserved, my lady?”
“Yes, thank you.” With asmile at Harry Erina followed the housekeeper from the room as asmall kernel of hope grew inside her. This was to be their countryhome, and she loved it already.
In the bedroom, Erina pulled off herpelisse and spencer, as she looked around. The walls were paperedin an intricate burgundy, gold and cream design, the curtains golddamask. The four-poster bed was hung with the same damask, with aruby silk cover to match the carpet. It was far grander than thebedroom in her father’s house. She thought of her faded floralbedcover as she perched on the high bed. She smoothed her handsover the cover. Would she and Harry share it? Or did he have hisown room? Her mind whirled and her heart thumped wildly in herchest. She climbed down, attempting to control her bafflingemotions.
Her trunk had been delivered, and shewas sorting through it when a knock came at the door. Heavens? Wasthat Harry?
A young maid with curly brown hair anda fresh complexion came in and bobbed. “I’m Merry, my lady. Shall Iunpack the trunk?”
“Yes, please, Merry. I’dlike to wash and change my dress.”
Half an hour later, Erina camedownstairs dressed in a favorite muslin gown woven in a dull greenand blue pattern. Merry had revealed a surprising skill with hair,securing Erina’s in a fetching topknot with a pinkribbon.
Harry rose from the chair as sheentered the drawing room. He had also changed his clothes and hishair looked damp. His gaze swept over her and he smiled hisapproval. “I like the pink ribbon.”
“Merry isgifted.”
A tray appeared, and they seatedthemselves to partake of tartlets, almond cakes and ham and cresssandwiches. She could eat little of it although Harry tucked in. Itwas on the tip of Erina’s tongue to ask what they might do with thelast of the daylight hours. But she was afraid she’d flush crimsonif she did, so she seized the teapot and poured them both anaromatic cup of tea.
Harry’s eyes twinkled. “We might takea walk in the park before supper,” he said, as if he’d read hermind.
“I’d like that,” Erinasaid. Heavens, she wasn’t usually this restrained. It was just thatshe wasn’t sure what Harry expected of her. Was this to be amarriage of convenience? A polite friendship with the occasionalvisit to her bed to beget a child? She would hate that more thananything. Her hand shook, and she spilled tea into the saucer whereit dripped onto the table. “Bother.”
Harry edged forward from his side ofthe table and placed a hand over hers where it fluttered uselesslylike a bird. “We need a good long talk after our tea,” he said inhis calm voice.
She began mopping the tea up with hernapkin. “We can have it while we walk.”
He shook his head. “I thinknot.”
She raised her eyes to his.“No?”
“I don’t believe it canwait.”
Chapter Twenty-One
When nothing was heard from Caindale,Jack headed north to Manchester. On the road again with Arion, hegained that sense of freedom he’d missed. It was almost a relief toremove himself from the intense situation which had surrounded theButterworth’s. Especially, when he hadn’t done as promised andfound the murderer. And there was no sense in thinking of Ashley,although he did, constantly, with a sense of frustration and deepyearning. It was for her that he persisted with this task althoughhe feared that what he might find could devastate herfamily.
Two days later, he rode through smokyManchester which was quickly developing into a large town. It tookhim another hour to reach the river Bolin where Caindale’s cottonmill was located. The estate was impressive. Farm houses had beenconverted for the mill workers, even a school and achapel.
As he drew close to the river, thenoise greeted him. The huge metal water wheel on the northern endof the six-story brick building was clanking and churning with therush of water. Jack dismounted and entered the mill floor which wascrowded with the spinning mules that produced the cotton. Thisshould be a hub of activity, but the workers were gone, themachinery driven by the belt attached to the wheel, chugging awaypointlessly. Beyond the open back door, the river flowed past, thedank smell seeping in. Someone had been here then. Jack’s neckprickled.
At the sound of running footsteps, hebolted toward the door at the far end. He skidded to a stop thendarted inside the counting house. Caindale was gurgling, strung upfrom a beam, his legs kicking uselessly in the air.
