Regency Affairs Part 2: Books 7-12 Of 12. Ann Lethbridge

      ‘I will try my level best.’

      She clicked her fingers and Moth trotted along behind her. Kit watched until she had gone into the house and lit a lamp in the drawing room. He saw her speaking to Mrs Hampstead and laughing. She was safely back in her world without a stain on her character. He’d kept his word.

      Kit leant against the doorway and closed his eyes.

      ‘I wish you had come to dinner at the Dents. Doctor Hornby was there and everyone wanted to hear about your exploits. You are quite the heroine,’ Stephanie said when Hattie stopped by Highfield the next morning.

      In the depth of the night, Hattie had resolved to continue about her routine as if nothing had happened. She had determined that today would be making jam and doing things about the still room. She found making the preserves, flavoured vinegars and chutneys ultimately satisfying. She had discovered a real talent for the enterprise when she came up to Northumberland. Her elderflower cordial might be prone to exploding, but she knew her damson gin was some of the best in the county.

      Above all, she wanted to avoid visiting, in particular seeing Mrs Reynaud. If anyone was going to guess about the affair, Mrs Reynaud was the most likely candidate. Her eyes were so sharp. She’d even guessed about the kiss at the Roman ruins. And everything was far too new and precious. Hattie needed to decide if she wanted anyone else to know, but for now she wanted to hug the news to her chest like some glorious secret.

      ‘I take it that Sir Christopher and Mr Hook were absent?’

      ‘Obviously.’ Stephanie rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘A fight like that is not something you simply get up and walk away from. Mrs Dent agrees that you were reckless, but did what you did out of pure Christian spirit. If your reputation wasn’t so spotless, questions might be asked, but you have been on the shelf for so long, there is little danger of anything untoward happening.’

      ‘I don’t very much care what Mrs Dent thinks.’ Hattie crossed her arms. On the shelf, indeed! ‘She has a mouth like the Tyne and speaks before she thinks.’

      ‘Hattie, what has got into you today?’ Stephanie frowned. ‘You are not usually rude. Of course you care about what Mrs Dent thinks. She is our close neighbour and a powerful force in Tyne Valley society.’

      ‘She is looking to marry off her eldest daughter.’

      ‘Livvy is more than a match for her.’ Stephanie tapped a forefinger against her mouth. ‘Come to think of it, Mrs Dent was awfully curious about Mr Hook and his habits. She has heard about the proposed lecture.’

      ‘I thought you were not interested in Mr Hook for Livvy. Livvy must have a title and all that.’

      ‘Mr Hook has asked Mr Parteger if he will help with the final preparation. Mr Parteger is reluctant. There is no good encouraging him, Mr Parteger says, as there is no title.’

      Hattie leant forwards. She had been racking her brain all morning as she picked strawberries about how she could go about contacting Kit and the answer lay before her—the lecture preparations. ‘But it was your scheme.’

      Stephanie heaved a long drawn-out sigh. ‘I swear my husband does not appreciate any of my schemes. I have had to ask the Colonel.’

      Hattie glanced over to the firmly closed library door. ‘I believe he likes a bit of peace, Stephanie. He doesn’t see the same urgency as you and he has never been terribly social.’

      ‘You know I was pregnant with Livvy when I was just a bit older than her. It scarcely seems possible.’ Stephanie put her hand on her stomach. Her face crumpled. A single tear ran down her cheek.

      ‘What is wrong, Stephanie? You are practically in tears.’ Hattie covered Stephanie’s hand with hers. ‘Was Harold cruel? He doesn’t mean to be cutting. He does want the best for Livvy.’

      ‘I fear it might be happening again. I have been ill every morning for the last week. If it had not been for the fair, I’d have stayed in bed, but someone had to support dear Mr Parteger. He expects me to be there for him on that day of all days. Then you went and recklessly endangered your reputation with rescuing Sir Christopher after that dreadful fight where you needlessly exposed yourself. No one cares about my nerves.’

      Hattie closed her eyes. Stephanie pregnant. Again. She had half-hoped to suggest to Kit that they travel or arrange to meet abroad. And she’d even toyed with going down to London next spring for the entire Season … if their affair lasted that long. However, if Stephanie was pregnant, it would mean a baby in the late spring, and she knew how much Stephanie counted on her help.

      ‘We shall cross that bridge when it comes.’

      ‘But Livvy and her Season. It has been promised. Livvy is over the moon with excitement.’ Stephanie dabbed the handkerchief to her eyes and gave a rather pathetic sniff. ‘I will need you here. No one understands me and my babies like you do. But I dislike the thought of Livvy being without support and guidance.’

      ‘I could go.’

      ‘Of course you could go, Livvy respects your opinion, more than mine. But … how am I going to run the house? You are my sister and the only person that Harold truly tolerates.’

      Hattie sighed. She knew that she had to stay, if only to ensure her brother-in-law’s sanity. It did make things easier. If Kit asked, she’d explain. And if he didn’t, she was safe in the knowledge that she could not have gone anyway. She curled her fists.

      ‘Mrs Hampstead could stay with you. She is far more useful than I on such matters,’ Hattie said more in hope than expectation. The colour drained from Stephanie’s face. ‘But Joyce should be willing to sponsor Livvy. Livvy and Joyce’s eldest niece are close in age. It will give her someone to have as a friend. These affairs can be awfully daunting if you have to go alone.’

      Instantly Stephanie’s countenance cleared. ‘You are right of course. It is about time our sister-in-law did something for this family. It is not as if they are troubled by us much.’

      Hattie squeezed Stephanie’s hand. Remorse washed over her. Stephanie always dreadfully suffered in the first few months of a pregnancy. What she was asking was not too difficult. It was simply that for once she wanted a little time to live her own life. She pushed the thought away.

      ‘You must concentrate on the new life. I will make sure everything runs smoothly.’

      ‘You are so good to me, Hattie. I couldn’t ask for a better sister.’

      ‘I try.’ Hattie nodded towards where the baskets of strawberries stood. ‘I have an appointment in the still room. It is that time of the year. Jams, jellies, tinctures and a wide variety of gins await preparation. It gives me an outlet for my energy.’

      Stephanie put her handkerchief to her face. ‘I can’t bear the thought of the jam bubbling, particularly not now.’

      ‘You always did prefer the eating of jam to the making of it.’

      Stephanie had the grace to blush.

      Kit rode his new stallion, Onyx, hard. He enjoyed the freedom and excercise after weeks of inactivity.

      When he woke up this morning with the memory of Hattie’s mouth moving under his, he resolved that he’d stay away for a little while. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in her life or for her to start to depend on him. He knew what women could be like. The rules of engagement were strict and developed after years of practice.

      He reached the ridge above Pearl Cottage. He looked down at the little house with its curl of smoke. Something struck in the gut. His tenant, Mrs Reynaud, was down there in that cottage but her identity remained a mystery.

      He had spent the majority of the day going through his uncle’s papers while he tried not to think about Hattie and what she might be doing. As he suspected, the woman who had rented the cottage did not go by the name of Reynaud, but another name altogether: Smith. The tenancy agreement was odd to say the least and his