“Good Lord, no.” Haroldshuddered. “I’d rather hunt lions than come between twowomen.”
Erina headed for the door. “Therewould only be one who was serious, sir.”
“Right now, I fear thereare none.” Harold walked beside her to the breakfast room. “Doesterrible things to a man’s ego.”
After breakfast Harold and Erinaentered the path which lead to the gate opening onto the meadow. Hestrode beside her making little comment.
She breathed in the scent ofsun-warmed earth, the tall grasses tickling her legs above her halfboots. “We don’t have to go all the way up there if you’d rathernot, Mr. Feather.”
“Call me Harry, seeing aswe’re almost related. We’d best go right to the summit. I suspectyour father or mine, or both of them are up in that tower with atelescope trained on us.”
Erina laughed. “You may well beright.”
“I don’t mind a good trek.”Harry strode along toward the hill in the distance. “But you walkvery fast.”
“It’s the way I’m made, I’mafraid.”
“Nothing to apologize for,”Harry said. “A good friend of mine, Jack Ryder is exceptionallytall and far more athletic than me. Rides like the very demon. Westill rub along well enough together.”
“Captain Ryder? I have methim.” Erina pictured the large man who’d given her a crick in herneck on the dance floor. He had a wonderful low chuckle and thebluest eyes. “I remember that he had all the ladies in aflutter.”
“Handsome chap. He’s a goodfellow. A brave soldier. But restless.”
“I heard his father, theduke died.”
“Yes. Hit Jack hard. He’sgone off on his horse. I’ll miss him.”
“Where is hisdirection?”
“Northern England, but he’sheading for Ireland first.”
She frowned. Men had such freedom. Ifonly she was able to go to Ireland, she could helpCathleen.
Erina led the way up the narrowwinding track through the magnificent aged oaks of Epping Forest.Above them, Hangman’s Hill waited. A steep hour-long trek. Sheglanced at Harry, but he seemed to be keeping up well. He might beslim and declare himself lazy, but he was quite fit, not evenpuffing. “Now, about Florence Beckworth,” she began.
“No point.” Harry stoppedand turned to view the landscape they’d left behind. The complexroofline of the family mansion rose above the trees with itsturrets and chimneys reaching for the sky.
She frowned at him. “Surely youhaven’t given up?”
“I’m afraid I have,” Harrysaid. He didn’t appear too heart broken. “Miss Beckworth drew measide after breakfast and confided in me.”
“Confided what?”
“She is in love with thevillage vicar. Her father opposes the match, but she’s determinedto change his mind.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Erina’sheart sank. She liked Harry, she really did. But not to marry. Andit was clear he felt the same.
“Yes, she has a yen to be apastor’s wife. There’s something about sermons and bible studieswhich appeals far more than I ever could.” Harry shrugged. “Comeon, Erina. Step up, or we won’t be back for luncheon. Is that akestrel I see soaring above us?”
Erina cast a glance at his setprofile, and wondered how much Florence’s rejection had hurt him,before watching the magnificent bird swoop down to itsprey.
Chapter Four
The inn’s parlor was in an uproar.Guests crowded into the room where a man lay on the settee. He bledheavily from a chest wound. An older lady leaned over him,trembling, and sobbing, and patting his cheek.
“What happened to thefellow?” Jack asked the innkeeper, Joe Peck, who stood silent andconcerned beside him.
“Lord and Lady Butterstoneand their daughter, Lady Ashley were returning home to Ivywood Hallfrom London when they were attacked by a highwayman,” Peck said.“His lordship resisted and was shot. I’ve sent for thedoctor.”
