Название | Conspiracy Of Hearts |
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Автор произведения | Helen Dickson |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | Mills & Boon Historical |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474017237 |
‘Of late I have not seen Dorothea,’ she replied quietly, on a more serious note. ‘I wish you both every imaginable happiness. You are indeed fortunate in your choice of bride, sir.’
Kit looked at her thoughtfully, curious as to the sudden change in her. ‘I couldn’t agree with you more. In the short time I have known Dorothea, I find her to be an exceptional woman.’
‘I know she is,’ Serena agreed.
Kit held the heavy, high-backed chair as she slipped into it. As the meal progressed and Sir Henry conversed about political matters, Serena was aware of his guest’s unrelenting stare. Meeting his gaze, she found in his black eyes a glowing intensity and a slow, brazen perusal that brought the colour mounting to her cheeks and ire to burn through her.
Having him so close was agonisingly distasteful to her. Bestowing on him a cool stare, she tried her best to ignore him, but it was difficult when he sat directly in her sights. The man bedevilled her. He was insufferable and doing his best to antagonise her. Clenching her teeth in irritation, she tried concentrating on her food until she was drawn into the conversation by her father.
‘You know Kit is here to look over our horses, don’t you, Serena?’
‘Yes.’ She smiled, glancing at her father at the end of the table.
‘It’s my intention to purchase three or four of your finest mares available to replenish my stable at Thurlow—if they are as magnificent as they are reputed to be,’ Kit said.
‘I don’t think you will be disappointed,’ Serena told him, ‘although, had you come two weeks ago you would have had more to choose from.’
Kit glanced at her sharply. ‘Oh?’
‘Yes. Several are promised to Mr Grant and Sir Robert Catesby—isn’t that so, Father?’
Sir Henry suddenly looked discomfited and coughed nervously, causing Kit’s brow to become furrowed with a deep frown as he contemplated his host. No comment was made, but Serena had a peculiar feeling that her father would rather she had kept quiet about the matter. She also sensed that Lord Brodie had taken particular note of what had been said and that he would not forget it.
At the time she had been curious when Sir Robert and Mr Grant from Norbrook—Mr Grant’s home at nearby Snitterfield—had come to look over the horses, purchasing twenty of a strong and heavy breed. When she had inquired of her father afterwards the reason for the purchase, he had told her that Catesby was to form a troop of horse to enter the service of the archdukes in the Spanish Netherlands.
Knowing this was legal since the peace with Spain the previous year, Serena’s curiosity had been appeased. But, as she recalled Andrew’s words of warning, a feeling of disquiet settled on her. She prayed 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