her father had not become involved in something she knew nothing about.
‘Are you acquainted with Robert Catesby?’ Serena asked in an attempt to cover the awkward moment.
‘I am. As your father may have told you, I have only recently come into my inheritance at Thurlow on the death of my cousin. It was necessary for me to spend some time in London to attend Parliament until it was prorogued until November. The lodgings I took in the Strand were adjacent to Catesby’s.’
‘And what was your opinion of him?’
Kit smiled and his eyes twinkled at Serena. ‘He is certainly a popular gentleman.’
‘And handsome, too,’ chuckled Sir Henry. ‘At least my daughter thought so when last she saw him.’
‘Father!’ gasped Serena, hot colour flooding her cheeks. Wasn’t it enough Lord Brodie knowing she was involved with Thomas Blackwell without adding another to the list?
Kit laughed good-humouredly. ‘I’m not surprised. Robert—or Robin as he is called among his friends—in spite of his rather headstrong disposition is an irresistible charmer and very much admired. He left London for Stratford with some associates at the same time as myself.’
Kit had spent many long hours in the company of Robert Catesby, an ardent Catholic, whilst in London. He was a likeable man with a dominant personality, and deeply involved with religious malcontents. Kit had been present at several of their gatherings when they had met at the Mermaid or the Mitre Inn on Bread Street. A silent, curious observer, he had supped with them whilst thinking it prudent not to become too involved. Their conversations had been discreet, but he sensed a strong agitation manifesting itself, and felt that something might occur during the next session of Parliament.
‘You are to visit Dorothea, I understand,’ Kit remarked to Serena. Turning the conversation to more pleasurable topics, he thrust unpleasant thoughts of conspiracies, which were forever being hatched against the king, from his mind.
‘She is expecting me tomorrow afternoon. I am to stay at Carberry Hall for a few days. In the light of your betrothal we shall have lots to catch up on.’
‘Then you will still be there when I call on Dorothea and Sir William before I have to return to Thurlow,’ Kit said, a smile touching his lips and his eyes taking on a new gleam as her bewitching beauty fed his gaze. The light of the tapers illuminated her to advantage, and he found himself dwelling with a good deal of pleasure on the tantalising vision she presented across the table.
Having hoped that when he left for Woodfield Grange she would not have to see him again, Serena was disappointed and extremely vexed that she might. ‘Perhaps.’ She met his dark eyes with resentment, thinking furiously that even though he was aware of her dislike he was amused by it. Shoving her chair back, she intended leaving the gentlemen to drink their port in peace, but her father halted her.
‘Eliza informs me you that you intend riding early in the morning, Serena?’
Serena had decided to forgo her ride and have one of the servants go to the stables to tell John not to bother saddling her horse after all. Not even an early morning ride over her beloved heath could tempt her to ride in the company of Lord Brodie.
‘That—that was my intention,’ she said hesitantly, ‘but I—’
‘Then you can accompany Kit,’ her father said quickly before she could finish what she was about to say. ‘Forgive me if I don’t accompany you,’ he apologised to his guest, ‘but you will find that not only is my daughter an excellent horsewoman, but she also knows as much about the horses as I do myself. John will also be on hand to assist you and tell you anything you wish to know.’
Serena looked at her father in alarm. Usually he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to show off his horses. ‘What is it, Father? You’re not ill?’
‘Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t cure.’ Sir Henry laughed lightly in an attempt to allay his daughter’s concern—but the truth of the matter was that his joints pained him a great deal—especially now the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Unfortunately, his sufferings were a lasting legacy of the year he had spent in the Tower at Queen Elizabeth’s pleasure.
‘I fear that an early ride will put me out of sorts for the hunt later—and I have no wish to disappoint Lord Payne by not turning up. If you find a horse to your liking, Kit, try him out at the hunt—or you are more than welcome to take mine. He’s a strong, spirited brute, but I’m sure the two of you will get along.’
‘That’s generous of you, Sir Henry,’ Kit said, easing back in his chair, his heavy-lidded gaze speculative as his dark eyes leisurely watched the tension and emotion play across Serena’s expressive face, sensing she had been about to cancel riding out early to avoid his company.
He reserved little hope of establishing any kind of peace between them, for she glared at him as if it would be pistols at dawn and she contemplated a duel to the death, instead of a gallop upon the heath. A mocking smile curved his lips and he found himself looking forward to his ride with this intriguing young woman, although he told himself there was a dire need for caution.
‘I am honoured to have Mistress Carberry accompany me,’ he murmured. ‘It will be a privilege.’
The subtle way Lord Brodie’s smile changed was not to Serena’s liking. Irate sparks flared in her bright green eyes as she thought how easily she had been snared, and she lowered her eyes to hide her annoyance, standing up.
‘Very well. I will see you in the morning, Lord Brodie.’
Beset by emotions quite new to her, Serena went to her room. She was seized by a biting, raging fear at the knowledge that the marquess of Thurlow, having been privy to her degradation earlier, was enjoying every moment of her misery and was determined to play it out to the bitter end.
Chapter Three
When the light of dawn was struggling to show itself, Serena rose and went to the stables. The weather was blustery, cold and wet, which suited her mood. The sharp air sent shivers along her flesh, but the stables were a cheery glow of lantern light against the dark, unwelcoming exterior.
As the familiar warm smell of hay assailed her nostrils, she found the stables were already a hive of industry. Under the watchful eye of John, the stablemaster, on Sir Henry’s instructions the stable lads and grooms had been hard at it for over an hour to have the horses ready for the marquess’s inspection at first light. John hurried over to Serena, his shirt open down the front to reveal his barrel chest.
Pulling on her kid gloves and with her crop tucked beneath her arm, Serena paused beside a mare which had been led out of its stall and was being held by one of the grooms. She was vaguely aware that someone was on the other side of it, but because he was hidden from view she paid scant attention. ‘Good morning, John,’ she greeted him. ‘Such as it is. I’ve known better mornings for riding over the heath.’
‘Aye, the rain looks set in for the day, miss—but I know it’ll take more than that to put you off your ride.’ John chuckled. Having known Serena since birth, ever since Sir Henry had introduced her to the horses as a toddler, he was aware that riding had become her abiding passion.
‘I shall be leaving just as soon as our guest stirs himself. Is Polly saddled?’
‘She’s
