the following morning.
‘I wanted to accustom myself to this new habit,’ she told him as she waited for him to mount up. ‘The skirts are much wider than my old dress. I hope Brandy will not take exception to them if they billow out.’
‘She is used to it, having carried my sisters often enough.’
They trotted out of the yard and as soon as they reached the park Lord Adversane suggested they should gallop the fidgets out of their mounts. The exercise did much to dispel any lingering constraint Lucy felt, and her companion also seemed more relaxed. When they left the park he took her through the little village of Adversane, where she noted with approval the general neatness. All the buildings were in good repair and it did not surprise her to learn that most of the property belonged to the estate. They met the parson on his way to the church, whose square tower was visible beyond a double row of cottages. They drew rein, introductions were performed and the reverend gentleman smiled up at Lucy.
‘So this is your second week here, Miss Halbrook.’
‘It is.’
Her eyes flickered towards Adversane, who said easily, ‘I was away last Sunday, Mr Hopkins, and Miss Halbrook was reluctant to attend church alone.’
Lucy cast him a grateful glance. It was almost true. Mrs Dean had cavilled at taking her into the church and, as she put it, continuing the pretence of the betrothal in such a holy place.
‘We will wait until Adversane is here to escort you,’ Ariadne had said. ‘The Lord’s wrath will come down upon his head then. Not that he will care much for that!’
Mr Hopkins was directing a sympathetic look towards Lucy and saying gently, ‘Ah, yes, quite understandable, in the circumstances. You were afraid everyone would be gawping at you, Miss Halbrook. And they would be, too, I’m afraid. Perhaps you would like to come and see the church now? It has some quite wonderful examples of Gothic architecture. And I doubt if there will be anyone there at present—’
‘Thank you, Mr Hopkins, but next Sunday will have to do for that. We must get on.’
‘Ah, of course, of course.’ The parson nodded and stepped back. ‘And there is plenty of time for all the arrangements, my lord. You need only to send word when you wish me to come to discuss everything with you.’
Lucy knew not what to say and left it to Adversane to mutter a few words before they rode off.
‘He meant the arrangements for the wedding, I suppose,’ she said, when they were safely out of earshot.
‘Of course.’ His hard gaze flickered over her. ‘Feeling guilty?’
‘Yes, a little,’ she admitted.
‘Don’t be. Our betrothal has given the locals something to talk about, and when it ends they will have even more to gossip over. A little harmless diversion, nothing more.’
‘I suppose you are right, my lord.’
‘I think it is time that we abandoned the formality, at least in public.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You cannot keep calling me “my lord”. I have a name, you know.’
Lucy felt the tell-tale colour rising up again.
‘I do know,’ she managed, ‘but—’
‘No buts, Lucy. There, I have used your name, now you must call me Ralph. Come, try it.’
She felt uncomfortably hot.
‘I—that is, surely we only need to do so when other people are near—’
‘And how unnatural do you think that would sound? We need to practise.’
‘Of course. R-Ralph.’
He grinned. ‘Very demure, my dear, but you look woefully conscious.’
‘That is because I am,’ she snapped.
‘Which proves my point,’ he replied in a voice of reason that made her grind her teeth.
Observing her frustration, he merely laughed and adjured her to keep up as he trotted out of the village.
It was impossible to remain at odds. There was too much to see, too many questions to ask. The hours flew by and Lucy was almost disappointed when Adversane said they must turn for home.
‘We are on the far side of Ingleston,’ he told her. ‘It will take us an hour to ride back through the town, longer if we skirt around it. Which would you prefer?’
‘The longer route, if you please.’ Lucy recalled her meeting with the parson and had no wish to be stared at and pointed out as the future Lady Adversane.
They kept to the lanes and picked up the road again at the toll just west of Ingleston. Lucy recognised it as the road she had travelled when Mrs Dean had taken her to the town. She recalled there was a narrow, steep-sided valley ahead, where the highway ran alongside the river. It had felt very confined in the closed carriage, with nothing but the green hillside rising steep and stark on each side, and Lucy was looking forward to seeing it from horseback. She turned to her companion to tell him so and found that his attention was fixed upon something ahead, high up on the hills. Following his gaze, she saw the moors rising above the trees, culminating in a ragged edifice of stone on the skyline.
‘Is that Druids Rock, my lord?’
‘Yes.’
She stared up at the rocky outcrop. The sun had moved behind it, and the stone looked black and forbidding against the blue sky.
‘Your cousin told me that the old track to Adversane ran past there, before this carriageway was built.’
‘That is so.’
‘And can one still ride that way?’
‘Yes, but we will keep to the road.’
She said no more. His wife had died at Druids Rock and it must be very painful to have such a constant and visible reminder of the tragedy. She longed to offer him some comfort, at least to tell him she understood, but he had urged Jupiter into a fast trot, and quite clearly did not wish to discuss the matter any further.
By the time they arrived back at Adversane Hall Lucy felt that she had achieved a comfortable understanding with her host. Glancing up at the clock above the stable entrance, she wondered aloud if there would be time for her to bathe before dinner.
‘I have not ridden so far in a very long time,’ she explained.
‘You had probably forgotten, then, how dusty one can get.’
‘And sore,’ she added, laughing. ‘I have a lowering suspicion that this unaccustomed exercise will leave my joints aching most horribly!’
‘I shall tell Byrne to put dinner back an hour and have Mrs Green send up hot water for you.’ He helped her dismount and led her towards a small door at the back of the stable yard. ‘This is a quicker way,’ he explained. ‘A path leads directly from here to a side door of the house, which opens onto what we call the side hall, and from there we can ascend via a secondary staircase to the main bedchambers. It is much more convenient than appearing in all one’s dirt at the front door.’
‘I guessed there must be a way,’ she told him as she stepped into the house. ‘Only I had not yet found it. Does it lead to the guest wing, too?’
‘No. They have their own staircase, over there.’ He pointed across the side hall to a panelled corridor, where Lucy could see another flight of stairs rising at the far end. ‘My guests have perfect freedom to come and go as they wish.’
There was something in his tone that made her look up quickly, but his face was a stony mask. She began to make her way up the oak staircase, conscious of his heavy tread behind her.
‘How useful to have one’s own staircase,’ she remarked,