home of a man, not the seat of a scion. Only Katie, so solid in front of him, kept him from sliding off his horse to kiss the ground in thanksgiving. There’d been too many times when he’d thought he’d never see such a glorious view again, but he’d fought nature and overwhelming odds to return.
Not all of his men would have the same opportunity to experience this relief at coming home.
His hold on the reins eased as the intermittent trembles which had plagued him since Greenland weakened his grip once more. Thankfully, the darkness covered the shaking. It was bad enough Katie had sensed it before. He didn’t want her, or anyone, to know how deep the scars from his expedition ran, or how they continued to strangle his belief in himself and his abilities as a leader.
Conrad settled back down against the leather and guided the horse around the house to the stables behind, determined to allow the events of the past year to lie tonight. In the morning he’d get to the meat of them. He only prayed the damage wasn’t as bad as instinct warned, either to himself, his career or his future with Katie.
In the shadow of the stable lamp, a groom rose from where he sat whittling, curls of wood falling over his lap. His eyes went wide at the sight of Conrad before he tossed the stick and knife aside.
‘Captain Essington! Why, I don’t believe it.’ Mr Peet hustled forward on his long legs to catch the reins, his joy at Conrad’s return as bright on his face as the light from the lantern. ‘Mrs Peet will be so glad to see ya, everyone will be, well, excepting Miss Linton, she’s never happy to see anybody.’
‘It’s good to be home. You remember Miss Vickers.’
‘I do.’ He doffed his cap at Katie. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Vickers.’
‘And you, too, Mr Peet,’ Katie replied, although her voice lacked the same enthusiasm as the groom’s.
‘Oh!’ Katie breathed, as Conrad let go of the reins and slid his hands around her waist. It was smaller than he remembered and she seemed more fragile and vulnerable than when he’d left. She gripped his wrists tight as he shifted her off his lap and lowered her to the mounting block. As she stepped off it, she rocked as if she’d been on the deck of a ship for months, not on the back of a horse for a mile or two.
Gritting his teeth against the stiffness in his back, legs and hands, Conrad slid down on to the block. He turned to see Katie watching him, worry marring the small lines along the corners of her lips. She’d seen him wince, sensed the slowness of his movements and guessed he was weakened by the north. He turned to the saddle bag to retrieve her satchel, not wanting her or anyone’s pity, not even his own.
With the small bag in his hand, he stepped off the block, patting the horse’s rump as Mr Peet led it away.
‘Shall we?’ Conrad motioned to the house.
* * *
The rising moonlight glinted off the large bank of windows making up one wall of the conservatory jutting from the rear of the house. Katie didn’t want to go inside, especially with the light burning in the upstairs window. The flick of a curtain in Miss Linton’s room announced the spinster’s presence and her curiosity. Whenever Katie and her father had stayed here, she had gone to great lengths to avoid the thin, buck-toothed woman. More so after Katie and Conrad’s engagement had been announced. The woman, only a year or two older than Katie’s twenty-five, had always looked upon Katie with as little warmth as Lord Helton. However, they couldn’t stand in the mews all night and Katie accompanied Conrad up the walk and into the conservatory.
She tried not to look at the marble table in the centre as they passed through the moonlit room, her shoulders brushing the delicate fronds of the many palms filling it. It was too difficult to see the empty top of the table and not think of her father working on the strange tiger-like fossil there in happier times. Through the opposite door, they entered the dimly lit hallway and the scent of scouring soap and wood oil overwhelmed her. Surrounded by so many familiar things, it seemed as if she could reach out and take Conrad’s hand and the past year and a half would vanish. If it did, then all the optimism and faith she’d once possessed in him might return. She kept her hands at her sides, unwilling to expose herself to more disappointment and heartache. She’d spend one night here, then tomorrow she’d leave Conrad and their past behind.
The hallway opened into a tall entrance hall with a slate floor. In the moonlight coming through the window, she could see the scattering of ammonite fossils embedded in the flat stone. Then the dark imprints of curving shells caught the orange light of a candle from somewhere above them and Katie looked up to watch Miss Linton descend the stairs.
A plain house dress hung from Miss Linton’s scrawny shoulders and her lacklustre brown hair was pinned in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Unlike the groom, there was no wide smile to lighten her long face. She fixed her eyes first on Conrad and then Katie, her scowl deepening with each step until she was at last in front of them.
‘Conrad, what are you doing here?’ It was exactly the sort of dismissive greeting Katie expected from the shrewish woman.
‘Cousin Matilda, it’s a pleasure to see you as well,’ Conrad replied with a sarcastic bow.
‘Of course, I’m glad you’ve returned safely,’ she replied as if he’d been out in the fields, not presumed dead for nearly a year. ‘It’s certainly most unexpected.’
‘Is the guest room and my room as I left them?’
‘They are, but the linens haven’t been changed or the fires lit. If I’d received some notice of your arrival instead of being startled at night, things might have been better prepared.’
‘A man doesn’t have to send word to his own house.’
Miss Linton stiffened at the reminder of her place. Frustrated in her effort to enforce some control over Heims Hall, she turned to Katie. ‘Will she be staying here?’
‘You mean Miss Vickers?’ Conrad’s voice was low and warning. ‘Yes, she will.’
The little colour in Miss Linton’s face drained out, leaving her an unappealing shade of white. ‘But, Conrad—’
‘We’ll rely on you to serve as an appropriate chaperon.’
Miss Linton jerked back her shoulders in indignation, as if Conrad had asked her to walk down the high street of nearby Cuckfield naked. ‘I don’t think it’s appropriate for a woman like me—’
‘Thank you, Matilda.’ He cut her off, turned to Katie and held out his arm. ‘Shall I escort you to your room?’
Only the desire to vex Miss Linton prodded Katie to place her hand on the firm muscle beneath the wool coat. ‘Thank you.’
Conrad guided them around his cousin and they climbed the stairs. His solid form beside her was a welcome comfort against Miss Linton’s hostile stares burning a hole in the back of Katie’s dress. If only he had come back sooner, before Lord Helton’s lies had done their damage.
The staircase curved, taking them out of sight of Miss Linton and Katie removed her hand from Conrad’s arm, reluctant to encourage any intimacy between them.
Conrad didn’t protest, but continued to escort her down the short hall illuminated by the light spilling out of Miss Linton’s open bedroom door. It filled the narrow space with a wavering amber glow and
