‘Oh yes, I loved both of the horses. It’s been a real treat,’ Sage said truthfully.
‘Where’s my big brother?’ Louis said. ‘Have you lost him already?’
‘I’m not actually sure … He lost a shoe on Cobra and said he’d find another horse and come back.’ Sage was worried all of a sudden; she hoped he had not come to grief somewhere in the darkness.
‘Oh, there aren’t any more rideable horses at home, he was probably just being chivalrous so that you didn’t wait for him.’ Louis smiled at her, his eyes glittering in the dark. His horse plunged wildly as a pheasant flew out from underfoot and Louis laughed, not minding. Sage, irritated, watched him sitting easily, not shifting in the saddle. She thought that a good, healthy, ego-bruising dose of falling off would have done Louis no harm at all.
‘What happened to … what was her name? Veronica?’ Sage asked archly, feeling foolish for playing games.
‘Oh, her? I don’t know. I think she’s about somewhere,’ Louis said, unconcerned, and Sage wondered whether he’d even noticed that she had spoken Vanessa’s name wrong.If he was any more relaxed, he’d be horizontal on his horse’s back, she thought wryly. The string of horses began to trot when they made it onto the road and Sage was glad. Trotting, apart from warming her up, removed any need to make small talk with Louis. He unnerved her. She could feel his eyes on her and she looked studiously straight ahead. The sound from their horses’ shoes banging on the road drowned out Sage’s soft voice and Louis gave up trying to talk after a while, content to ride the five miles back in silence, jogging along easily beside her. As itgot darker and colder Sage was surprised to find herself glad of his company.
Back at the house, Rafe had already had a bath and changed and he was back in cords and a blue cashmere jersey; his hair was still damp and brushed back off his face, the soft stable lighting managing to highlight the distinct planes of his face, the aquiline nose and astonishingly handsome patrician features, and Sage fell into his safe, welcoming arms. He smelt of Pears soap and extract of limes and she breathed in his familiar scent hungrily. He rubbed her back for a moment, kissing the top of her head.
‘Are you hungry? There’s tea laid on in the house. Hal’s tucking into boiled eggs and soldiers.’
‘I’m starving!’ Sage realized, her stomach rumbling at the thought of food.
‘We have also been invited, or rather my mother has begged us, to stay another night. They have people coming for dinner and Mum would love us to stay. I haven’t committed though – it’s totally up to you.’
‘Can you manage another night away? Won’t the horses need you?’
‘I thought I could leave early. I’ll get Dad’s driver to take me back for about six in the morning and I’ll leave you the car. You can drive back in your own time with Hal.’
‘Yes, let’s stay. But we’ll come back with you in the morning. We can bundle Hal into the car in his pyjamas. My grandfather will want me back for Skylark anyway, she’s galloping tomorrow.’
‘Are you sure? Mum will be over the moon. I don’t think she wanted to relinquish Hal, they’re as thick as thieves.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Sage would gladly have stayed here for ever. She felt safe in the nucleus of this warm, generous family.
Rafe slung his arm around Sage’s shoulders as he steered her towards the dining room.
A sharp sound made Sage jump. Tapping across the polished floorboards, her stilettos carving into centuries of painstakingly applied floor polish, was Mary Dunbarton.
‘Hello, Rafe,’ she said, pointedly ignoring Sage.
‘Whatareyou doing here, Mary?’ Rafe asked in astonishment.
‘I bumped into Cousin Louis on the Fulham Road yesterday. Did Kestrel tell you? I’ll be changing postcodes. My detestable brother is moving me into some hovel in Parsons Green, just to save the ruin up in Scotland.’
Rafe choked back a laugh.
‘Mary, I’d hardly call Castle Dunbarton a ruin and yes, I have spoken to Kestrel. I found him the house in Parsons Green. An owner of mine was selling it. A completely refurbished four-bedroom house with a large private walled garden is hardly a hovel. Don’t be disappointing, Mary.Tryto be nice.’
Mary looked sour at this, her small mouth puckering in rage, and turning on her pointed heel, she stalked out of the hall towards the main staircase.
They heard her clacking up the wooden stairs.
‘Oh Lord,’ croaked Sage in horror, ‘don’t tell me she’s staying the night, too?’
‘It would appear so,’ Rafe said quietly as he wondered, silently, what on earth his cousin Mary was really doing there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a bit—I suppose it is some taste of the original apple that remains still in our mouths…
Bram Stoker,Dracula
Sage sank gratefully into a hot bath that Rafe had run for her, letting her cold body subside into the hot, arnica-infused bubbles filling the huge claw-foot tub. Hal had been put to bed after giving them a detailed account of his day that had lasted throughout tea, his bath and a trip down to the drawing room to say good night. Even after that, he had subsequently interrupted his bedtime story several times with further previously forgotten anecdotes. Finally, closingWinnie-the-Poohin defeat, Sage had kissed him in exasperation and the exhausted child had fallen asleep before Rafe had even turned off the lights.
