Crispin said defensively. ‘It doesn’t matter who told him. What’s important is that you don’t go charging into town and live up to their expectations. They’re ready to think the worst of you and ranting at Mackey will only prove it.’
Aurora looked out over the fields, away from him. ‘I haven’t a choice. If I don’t confront him, it will only serve to encourage him and others. They will think they have power over me, that they control what I do.’
Crispin stared at her. Had she not heard what he’d said or understood its importance? ‘I hardly think it’s a question of supply and demand. It’s larger than that. Someone means to see you run out of business and out of town if possible.’ He related what he’d heard at the inn.
Aurora snorted and fixed him with a baleful stare a lesser man might have shrunk from. ‘Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think this is the first time something like this has happened to me?’
The weariness in her voice cooled Crispin’s anger. ‘If you know what people are up to, what will shouting at the blacksmith solve?’
She didn’t have a ready answer for his question. ‘It will make me feel better.’
Crispin nodded. ‘Breakfast might make you feel better too.’ He was starting to feel the chill in the air now that the heat of emotions had been banked. He turned the horses in the direction of the stables.
Aurora put up one last effort at resistance. ‘Breakfast won’t solve the problem.’
Crispin grinned. ‘No, it won’t, but I always think better on a full stomach. I imagine you do too.’
Crispin stood at the hearth, making breakfast, intent on the cast-iron frying pan he held over the fire and presenting Aurora a glorious view of his backside encased in tight, buttock-hugging riding trousers. This morning was her turn to do the perusing, but the opportunity was lost on her. She might have found the sight arousing if she hadn’t been so angry. Empirically, there was something positively alluring about a man cooking breakfast. She was just too upset to appreciate it at the moment. Her mind was reeling with questions and conclusions. The battle had begun. She knew this pattern well, but what had provoked it? Crispin was wrong about one thing—it did matter who’d told Mackey.
Aurora drummed her fingers on the table, trying to follow the twisting paths of her thoughts. Who had spilled the secret to Mackey? On his own, Mackey wasn’t ambitious enough to care what went on at her stables.
‘Someone’s behind Mackey, using him,’ Aurora spoke her thoughts out loud.
‘A phantom puppeteer?’ Crispin asked.
The very notion gave Aurora chills. ‘It’s the most likely reason.’ She shrugged, trying not to let it show how much the idea bothered her. ‘Mackey has no reason to know such a thing or to share it. Someone has given him a reason and the information.’
‘Any ideas who might want that information spread around?’
‘None comes to mind,’ Aurora said quickly. It wasn’t true. One did come to mind, but surely he had come to terms with her rejection long before this? Surely he would not stoop to such levels?
Crispin turned towards the table with the frying pan in hand. ‘I’ve managed a fry-up of sorts.’ Crispin scooped eggs and sausage from the pan and popped them on to two wooden plates. ‘There’s toast too.’ He reached for the slices of bread he’d placed on a rack in the hearth, juggling them so as not to burn his hands as he placed them on the plates. ‘And coffee.’ He retrieved the tin coffee pot from the embers of the fire where he’d left it to heat.
‘Delicious.’ Aurora took a bite of the eggs, more than half-expecting they wouldn’t taste as good as they looked, but they did. ‘Where did you learn to cook like this?’ It was better talking about food than potential enemies.
‘The military,’ Crispin said between bites. ‘Most useful skill a soldier can have besides knowing his weapons. A soldier can’t fight on an empty stomach, although most quartermasters I’ve known have been hard-pressed to believe it.’ Crispin winked. He bit into his toast and sobered, returning to the earlier conversation.
‘You should tell Peyton.’
Aurora shot him a hard look. ‘If I went running to the earl every time someone troubled me, I’d never convince anyone I was anything more than the earl’s lackey. How could people take me seriously as a horse breeder, a horsewoman, if I couldn’t manage my own business? I would think you of all people would understand why I won’t mention it. You don’t strike me as the type to let your brother fight your battles.’
‘Touché.’ Crispin tossed her a wry smile. ‘Still, don’t let pride get in the way of your security.’
Aurora sensed a stalemate and tacitly returned to her eggs, but Crispin wasn’t content. ‘Are you sure one of the girls didn’t let it slip?’
Aurora shook her head. ‘I am sure.’ She gave him a hard stare. ‘It is unconscionable to doubt my students.’ Even as she said it, an uneasy suspicion crossed her mind. Her students would keep the secret to the best of their abilities, but she didn’t expect them to withstand extreme punishments or worse in order to protect it. They were gently bred young women after all and had little experience with the darker side of life. Except for Eleanor Windham. The poor girl! Could Gregory Windham have extracted such a confession from her, his own daughter?
Crispin leaned across the table, answering her with equal steel. ‘In my experience, Princess, secrets are leaked by those on the inside. Very rarely does an outsider stumble upon a secret and expose it. Don’t be naïve, Aurora. In all likelihood, one of your girls told someone. Don’t ignore the reality simply because it is unpalatable.’
Aurora rose from the table, pushing her unpleasant thoughts to the back of her mind. ‘You presume too much on too short an acquaintance, I think, Lord Ramsden.’ She gathered up the plates. ‘Thank you for breakfast. I am sure you have responsibilities elsewhere that demand your attention.’
His hand seized her wrist. ‘I will not be dismissed so easily.’
‘Unhand me.’ This was how it had all started last night; a quick touch, a little flirting, and she’d talked herself right into bed with the earl’s brother. Now she had Sir Lancelot in her kitchen wanting to do good deeds.
‘We’re not finished. If you won’t talk about the potential danger you’re in, then we can talk about last night.’
Aurora groaned. The only thing she wanted to talk about less than the stables was last night. Conversations that began with ‘about last night’ never went well.
‘What is there to mention?’ Aurora sat down hard on the bench. ‘I thought we were doing rather well not mentioning last night at all.’ That was the way she preferred it at least, which was one reason she so seldom took a man to her bed. Worthy men always wanted to complicate matters afterwards with feelings of obligation. With feelings of obligation came feelings of ownership. Aurora fought back a shiver. She did not belong to any man. Not any more. Not ever again.
‘What is there to mention?’ Crispin repeated coolly. ‘Surely it hasn’t escaped your notice that we didn’t take any precautions.’
Aurora looked him firmly in the eye, her tone
