‘You don’t have to contend with Stephanie.’ Hattie wiped her hands on a towel. Her heat thumped loudly in her ears. She was going to go riding without a groom. She was going to escape from the Dower House and her responsibilities. One ride and that was all. She could stop any time she wanted to.
‘Let me find my riding habit. And my horse is a bit slow, but she gets there in the end.’
He touched her cheek. ‘That’s all I can ask.’
The horse auction was out near Yarridge and the Hexham race course hummed with activity. While Tatterstalls would have been Kit’s first choice for purchasing a horse for Hattie, he doubted if she would consent to a journey down to London. He refused to think about how much time they could spend together away from the watchful eye of her sister and housekeeper if she had a mount of her own. Even getting her to come here had been a trial. Mrs Hampstead had shared her carriage, but thankfully had decided to stay at the refreshment tent, rather than look around at the horses. A groom trailed at a respectful distance.
Yarridge and its selection would have to suffice … for now.
Kit ran a practised eye over the stock available for auction, picking out several which might do for Hattie.
‘Be careful where you step,’ he said, catching Hattie’s elbow and helping her around the pile of manure. A pulse of heat went through him.
‘I am well aware of what a stockyard is like. Have you spotted which horse I should bid on? Or am I allowed the privilege of deciding that?’
‘I am here in an advisory capacity only. Far be it from me to trample on your ideas.’
After their first ride, he had decided she needed something better so she could keep up with Onyx. He offered to get her a horse, but to his surprise and annoyance she refused, insisting that it was to be her horse. Gifts were not permitted. He wanted to spoil her, but she wouldn’t let him. Normally he liked to keep the women he was seeing out of his daily life, but he found himself thinking about her at odd times of the day and storing up little stories so that he could relate them to her on their rides, particularly about Rupert’s attempts to master newts and his sudden liking for the circulating library, a place Kit had never known him to visit before.
‘There are more horses than I had considered there would be.’ She clutched her reticule to her chest and skirted around a cart. ‘I want a horse which can ride, looks good and has a reasonable temperament but where do I start? Who can I trust?’
‘You can trust me.’ Kit tucked her hand in his arm. ‘Accept my verdict. Despite his many faults, my father did have good eye for horse flesh and he made sure I learnt. The patience he had with horses was amazing.’
Hattie merely raised an eyebrow at his words, but her face took on a fierce aspect. Kit shook his head. She looked like she wanted to do battle for the boy he’d once been.
‘I’m far too independent now to allow someone free rein.’ Her laugh sounded forced. ‘You tell me what to look for and I will see if the horse has it. What is wrong with that bay?’
She pointed towards a showy bay which was prancing about, definitely changing the subject away from his past. Kit frowned. Normally it was his choice to keep his past separate. He had wanted to share, but she refused.
He always said that he preferred independent women, but Hattie carried her independence that bit too far.
‘Can’t you see me on that horse? We would practically fly over the walls.’
‘You and how many other people? The owner means for that horse to be seen. It is the sort of horse that people buy for its beauty.’
‘I like beautiful things.’ Hattie developed a stubborn set to her jaw.
The horse reared up and pawed the air. All Kit could see was Hattie being crushed under the hooves. He shuddered and pushed the thought away. He turned, expecting to see Hattie cowering.
Hattie’s eyes shone with admiration.
‘That is a magnificent animal!’
‘You like untamed animals.’
A mischievous smile lit her face. ‘They have their uses. More than I thought.’
‘You need a decent mount, Harriet,’ he said, leading her away from the mayhem. ‘Something reliable, but with a bit of spirit. The horse you have been riding plods, but that one would throw you as soon as look at you.’
‘I’m amazed you can tell that with just one glance. High spirited, but I’m sure I can ride it with a bit of practice.’
Kit clenched his jaw. Not if he had anything to do with it. There was a balance to be struck—a horse who could keep up with Onyx, but not one which would harm Hattie.
‘See how she throws her head about? She hasn’t been schooled properly. Breaking your neck isn’t part of this exercise. A novice rider and an unschooled horse are a disaster waiting to happen.’
‘I doubt that will happen.’
In desperation Kit gestured towards the growing throng of people. ‘See how many people are interested in her? Do you really want to compete against them?’
She withdrew her hand from his arm. ‘I’ve no wish to pay over the odds for a horse. I want a horse with spirit, but not one that everyone else is competing for and therefore will cost me dearly.’
‘Practicality in all things.’
‘I learnt how to budget after my husband died.’ She lifted her chin with a proud tilt. ‘How can I tell the difference between a good horse and a bad one?’
‘Look for the little clues—how they hold the bit, place their hooves or react to small noises—as well as the big items such as the way they move or their teeth.’ He smiled down at her, preparing to be indulgent now that she’d agreed not to buy that horse.
She nodded seriously. ‘Anything else?’
‘My father used to say to look at the neck. You can tell a lot about a horse by the way it carries its head. It is probably an old wives’ tale, but it has held me in good stead. There is something about a horse’s neck.’
‘Do you judge people in the same way?’ She turned and Kit looked at her long swanlike neck. He wondered that he had ever thought her severe and lacking in beauty. Every time he saw her, he found something else to admire. Her charms might not be as on display as some, but he found himself thinking about her at odd times of the day, remembering different features.
‘I like your neck.’
She laughed, a tinkling sound that filled the air with light. He could listen to it all day. ‘I shall take that as a compliment.’
A horse crossed in front of them and he took the opportunity to move closer than strictly proper. ‘I intend to show my appreciation later.’
‘Is
