“We don’t want any gossip to be spread about. And servants tend to talk.”
What did he expect to find? Still questioning the wisdom of going after them, Lucy rode with him through the trees and onto the parkland. She could find no sign of Lady Sarah or Lord Cardew.
They continued their search for several minutes, following a well-worn path through the grass. In the daisy-strewn meadow, two horses grazed, their reins looped over bushes.
They heard voices from somewhere behind a thicket of dense shrubs. Their words were impossible to make out, but the man’s voice was cajoling, and the lady’s appeared to be entreating.
Mr. Beaufort glanced at Lucy, his eyebrows raised, and urged his horse on. He rounded the trees, with Lucy riding close behind.
Lady Sarah stood against the trunk of a majestic chestnut tree. Lord Cardew leaned over her, a hand resting on the trunk above her head. The other at her waist. Lucy could see she was upset.
Mr. Beaufort dismounted. When the two failed to see him, he coughed.
Lord Cardew spun around. “What on Earth…?” His weak, indulgent features pulled into a scowl. “Do you not respect a person’s privacy, sir?”
Beaufort calmly walked over to him. “My concern is with the lady.”
Lady Sarah pushed away from Lord Cardew and rushed over to Lucy, where she sat on her horse. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long,” she said, appearing shaky, yet determined to keep some modicum of good manners.
“I hope you don’t mind me coming,” Lucy said. “I had to know if you were all right. I confess to growing a little worried.”
Mr. Beaufort led Lady Sarah’s mare to her. “May I help you mount, my lady?”
Lady Sarah blushed vividly. “Thank you, sir.”
Lord Cardew went to his horse. Mounted, he turned back to stare at Lady Sarah. When she made no move to speak to him, barely acknowledging him, he galloped away.
Watching Lord Cardew disappear among the trees, Lady Sarah murmured her thanks to Mr. Beaufort. She looked at Lucy, her blue eyes shadowed. “Let’s return home.”
Mr. Beaufort accompanied them back to Rotten Row, where the groom waited. When Lady Sarah attempted to thank her rescuer again, he shook his head. “I did nothing that warrants your thanks, Lady Sarah. I suspect it was Miss Kershaw’s fierce stare that sent the gentleman on his way.”
Lady Sarah smiled, and Lucy couldn’t help grinning.
He lifted his hat, then rode away to join his friends.
“I hope I did the right thing coming to find you,” Lucy said again, aware that Lady Sarah had suffered some embarrassment. “I thought you looked uncomfortable with Lord Cardew.”
“I must explain,” Lady Sarah said, her voice trembling.
“Not if you don’t wish it.”
“Lord Cardew is an old friend. Robert promised to marry me on a number of occasions over the last two years, but there was always something to prevent it. I waited because I loved him and would have accepted him, despite Hugh’s disapproval of him.” She shook her head sadly. “But that is no longer of any importance.”
Lucy gazed at her with concern as two ladies trotted down the row with their grooms.
Seeing the women, Lady Sarah turned her horse toward the stables. They rode on for several minutes before she spoke. “Robert said he loved me. He doesn’t want to give me up,” she said, sounding bitter.
“Well, that must be a good thing, must it not?”
“No, it isn’t. He is about to become betrothed to Lady Gwendolyn, the Duke of Kendal’s daughter.”
Lucy’s heart ached. She turned in the saddle to observe her miserable friend. “Then I believe you have had a fortunate escape,” she said gently.
Lady Sarah raised her eyebrows. “You think so?”
“I do.” Lucy believed Lord Cardew was jealous. He’d looked furious when he saw Mr. Beaufort at the card party, and again today. “Did he propose marriage again?”
Sarah slowly shook her head.
