away and she’d refused. What did she expect?
‘Yes, it does. It did.’ Her chin was tilted upwards, not giving an inch. ‘I will look forward to your return then, Sir Christopher.’
‘As you wish, Mrs Wilkinson.’ Kit mounted his horse and did not look back. It was always best in these circumstances not to. However, he could not stop a hollow opening up inside him.
Hattie made it to her drawing room without crying. The ride back, alone, was one that she wanted to forget. Each time Strawberry’s hooves pounded the ground, she wanted to ask how long—how long had he planned this? He knew what her answer had to be.
‘Hattie, what happened to your dress?’ Stephanie’s voice pierced through her misery. ‘You look like you have gone through a hedge backwards. Hopefully no one saw you like that! People will talk, you know and it will reflect on the family. Everyone knows you are my sister.’
Hattie fumbled with the sleeve. Talk about bad luck. Why did Stephanie have to choose today to come over? And to be in such a terrible mood! Why didn’t Mrs Hampstead warn her when she came through the kitchen? ‘I tore it riding.’
‘Riding? You tore it riding?’ Stephanie came over and inspected the sleeve with a frown. ‘It is the first time I have heard of riding causing such a thing.’
‘I moved my arm far too quickly. The thread wasn’t very stout.’ Hattie shifted uneasily as Stephanie’s gaze grew more piercing. ‘It is the truth, Stephanie.’
‘And with whom were you riding?’
‘Sir Christopher,’ Hattie said without thinking. ‘We had a laugh about my ineptness.’
‘Since when have you been riding with Sir Christopher?’ Stephanie’s voice rose an octave.
‘We met accidentally.’ Hattie kept her voice even. There was no need to panic. She’d had a slight slip of the tongue. It was not as if she’d actually confessed to the affair.
‘I see … and how many times have you two met accidentally in recent weeks?’
‘I fail to see why that is a concern of yours.’
‘Often, I would wager. I can see it in your face.’ Stephanie collapsed down on the damask sofa and buried her face in her hands. ‘You are worse than Livvy, Hattie. Clandestine. You know what a man Sir Christopher is on about. How do you think you will force a marriage if you meet secretly?’
‘Is there some trouble, Stephanie?’ Hattie decided to ignore the remark about forcing a marriage. ‘Surely it is not against the law to go out riding. One must be civil to those one encounters.’
‘There is civility and then there is civility. Pray tell me that you have remained sensible in all things and that you have safeguarded your reputation.’
A cold sweat pricked at the back of Hattie’s neck. She knows. But why now when everything had ended? A sudden more horrific thought struck her. Had they been spotted? Was that why Kit had provoked the fight? ‘Something is bothering you, Stephanie. You might as well come out and say it. What am I supposed to have done?’
‘I heard you had gone to the Yarridge sale with Sir Christopher, but chose to overlook it.’
‘To buy Strawberry. I explained about that.’ Hattie leant forwards. ‘Sir Christopher is an acknowledged expert in horse flesh. He wanted to thank me for assisting him during the fair. Mrs Hampstead and Harvey the groom were in attendance.’
‘Hmmm, and now you just happen to be meeting him … accidentally.’ Stephanie held out her hand. ‘Think about what you are doing, the potential for scandal.’
‘You are creating a difficulty where there is none. In any case, Sir Christopher will be departing for London soon. No more meetings.’ Just saying the words out loud threatened to bring tears. Hattie blinked rapidly. ‘You are worrying unnecessarily.’
Stephanie shook her head. ‘You have been reckless, Hattie. I can see it in your eyes, your mouth and, yes, in your ripped jacket. Sir Christopher is an entirely different proposition to Charles Wilkinson.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You have had clandestine meetings with him. Goodness knows what some farmhand or milk maid might have seen or who they might tell.’ Stephanie’s face became serious. ‘You must not do anything that jeopardises Livvy’s chances. We don’t want a scandal.’
‘There will be no scandal,’ Hattie said tonelessly. Her entire body felt numb. Stephanie wasn’t concerned about her or her reputation, but merely what it might to do to Livvy’s prospects. She hadn’t even asked Hattie how she was. Stephanie had to have seen that Hattie was upset. Instead she went on and on quizzing her about unimportant things.
Stephanie’s gaze narrowed. ‘You say this with a great deal of certainty.’
‘Sir Christopher is returning to London. Directly after Mr Hook’s lecture.’
‘Will you continue to ride out once he is gone? Or will you start behaving normally?’
‘I enjoy riding whether I encounter Sir Christopher or not. I had not really considered the proposition.’ Hattie forced her voice to stay even. ‘You are worse than a dog with a bone, Stephanie. What are you trying to tell me?’
‘All I can say, Hattie, is that you are being selfish and extremely short-sighted.’ Stephanie rose from the sofa in a huff. ‘I need you now more than ever, Hattie. Stop being selfish. Livvy keeps making excuses about going to the circulating library. I can’t have my eldest turning into a bluestocking. You will speak to her for me, won’t you? She will never get a man that way.’
Hattie balled her fists. Stephanie wasn’t really interested in her or her affair with Kit. She was simply inconvenienced. ‘There is nothing wrong with the circulating library. I presume she takes Portia. Reading is a perfectly respectable occupation.’
‘There is no need to be like that. They never meet anyone of import. Portia would tell me if they did.’ Stephanie put her nose in the air. ‘If Sir Christopher is departing, then it is all I have to say on the matter. I look forward to having the old Hattie back. You used to be so helpful, Hattie. What happened?’
‘And what if I like the new Harriet?’ ‘That is your choice, obviously.’ Stephanie sniffed. ‘But don’t come crying to me when you lose everything.’
Mrs Reynaud’s face was a beacon of welcome as Hattie entered Pearl Cottage, carrying a basket of various jams, jellies and tinctures, the next morning. Moth immediately jumped out of the basket and ran over to Mrs Reynaud to demand a biscuit.
‘I feared you had forgotten about me, Mrs Wilkinson.’ Mrs Reynaud handed Moth her treat. ‘Moth has been very bad not to insist on you coming here. And here I’d thought you and I had an arrangement, young Moth. Biscuits in return for your mistress’s company.’
Moth gave a sharp bark.
‘Your maid said that you have been under the weather.’ Hattie kept the basket in front of her. All the way here she’d debated—did she confess to Mrs Reynaud about her relationship with Kit and ask her advice or not? Mrs Reynaud was the one person in the village who had experience
