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Nowit was Althelia’s turn to blush. “I know, Mama.”

Shehadn’t changed after her morning ride.

Itwas wholly unfair that men enjoyed the comfort and convenience of trousers while compelling women to wear confining stays and cumbersome gowns.

“I hope you enjoy your stay at Hefferwickshire, Mr. Lockington,” Papa said. “Have you need of anything, you’ve but to ask. Our home is yours.”

Likea panther unfolding from an afternoon snooze, Mr. Lockington had risen when Mama stood.

Altheliacouldn’t fault his manners, even if he were as aloof and unapproachable as a RussianCzar.

“Thank you, YourGrace, but I am a man of few needs.” He clasped his hands behind his back, the picture of docility, but she suspected he held himself in check.

Aman of his size and strength had probably learned to do so lest he hurt someone unintentionally. He reminded her of the great, gentle draft horses in the stables—stunning, muscular creatures capable of great feats but also capable of immense destruction if angered.

Papawrapped an arm around Mama’s still slender waist—a wonder after she’d borne eight children—and guided her to the door. “We shall see you at supper.”

“I need to respond to letters from Mama and Mynna too,” Eva said, grabbing two ginger biscuits to take with her.

Mynnawas Eva’s younger sister.

Aseveryone filed toward the doorway from which hung a mistletoe sprig, Althelia lingered behind. She glanced at the fern-green Wedgewood ormolu mantel clock, surrounded by Christmas greenery, holly, and ribbons.

Justa quarter past five.

Yes, she had time to peek in on the puppies and still bathe and dress for dinner.

Inez, her favorite Dalmatian, had given birth to seven wriggling, mottled bundles of wonder a week ago. Althelia planned on making one of the litter her very own. It might help her loneliness when Eva left at the end of March.

Therewas just the matter of convincing her parents to allow the dog in the house. And, if she could persuade one of her brothers to let her travel with him for a year or two, the dog would provide company and protection. However, she still hadn’t figured out how to convince her parents or a brother to agree to her scheme.

Afterstraightening the richly appointed drawing room and stacking the tea service on the tray for a servant to return to the kitchen, she collected a cloak from her chamber and donned it as she exited the mansion through the back stairs.

Thesun had sunk below the horizon, and twilight tinged with shades of orange and crimson hovered over the estate.

Thiswas her favorite time of day when night settled onto the land like a lover’s embrace, protective and warm. The gentle coo of the turtle doves as they sought their nests, and the occasional glimpse of a rabbit or fox scurrying to its cozy den to snuggle with its family, warmed her heart.

Altheliaoften sat on her window seat in the wintertime or on the terrace in the spring and summer, welcoming the shadows as they caressed the trees and buildings into slumber.

Oftheir own volition, her feet carried her along the well-maintained gravel track to the stables. A golden glow seeped beneath the closed doors where the horses, barn cats, and dogs slumbered.

Shepulled the door open, the hinges’ familiar creak and groan announcing her arrival.

Foras long as she could recall, the doors needed oiling. She believed it wasn’t as much the servants’ failure to maintain the hinges as deliberate neglect to alert anyone inside of a new arrival. Rather like bells atop a shopkeeper’s door.

Pushingher hood off, she stepped inside and inhaled the tangy aromas: horseflesh, fresh hay, liniment, and leather.

Comfortingand familiar scents today, but that was not the case just a few short years ago.

Howcould it be that she used to fear horses but now adored them?

Because you changed, AltheliaByronyElizabethWestbrook.

Yes, she had and didn’t regret the transformation from quivering mouse to unconventional—mayhap a trifle headstrong—woman a jot.

Adog’s whining and a puppy’s squeal of terror or pain drew her attention, and she sprinted to Inez’s stall. A hulking form loomed over the dog and her pups. Fear clogged Althelia’s throat, and she shoved her way inside the enclosure without a thought for her safety.

Suspicionand fright made her voice rough and accusing.

“What are you doing?”