Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

and a large Chinese vase looked familiar. ‘Is this near your rooms?’

      ‘Yes, Kat, next door.’

      Her gasp was cut off as he flung open a panelled door and let her step through. ‘Less modern than the lakeside wing where you were before; this is an older part of the house and you should be more comfortable here until we can move into the Dower House.’

      Restrained by the discovery that not only Jenny but another maid were in the room, Katherine could not retort that neither sleeping next door to him nor the prospect of moving into the Dower House made her feel the slightest bit comfortable.

      Both young women were sitting on the bed, a garment with long flowing skirts spread out between them. The unknown maid was industriously whipping stitches along the hem and Jenny was just biting off her cotton, having done something to the waist.

      They both jumped to their feet and Jenny said, ‘I think it will be a very tolerable fit, my lord, now we have taken the skirt up an inch and narrowed the waist.’

      Not only was a very handsome riding habit being shaken out before her eyes, but a pair of boots and a dashing veiled tricorne hat were also on display.

      ‘And where did these come from?’ Katherine enquired dangerously.

      ‘Cousin Augusta. I thought there was sure to be something somewhere in the house, but I did not expect anything quite so à la mode.’ Nick flicked the intricate frogging with one finger. ‘Gussie apparently had this made, convinced that, even after presenting Lord Pickforth with a petit pacquet six months ago, she would still retain exactly the same waist measurement. Apparently this was not the case and she discarded it while visiting last month. The boots might be a little large, but nothing to worry about. I will see you in the front hall in an hour.’

      It was tempting to pick up the boots and throw them at his retreating back. Instead Katherine smiled pleasantly at the maid. ‘I am sorry, I do not yet know your name.’

      ‘Eliza, my lady.’

      ‘Well, thank you, Eliza, it seems that you and Jenny have done an excellent job. You may go now.’

      The minute the girl had shut the door behind her Katherine swept across the room, tossed the tricorne off the dressing table stool on to the bed and sat down with a thump. ‘Oh … bother the man!’

      ‘Who, Miss Katherine?’ Jenny caught Katherine’s smouldering eye. ‘Ah, the master.’

      ‘Everything I want to do he forestalls and everything I don’t want him to do he just goes ahead and does,’ Katherine grumbled. ‘He has paid my debt, and Philip’s debts and given me an allowance. At least I can pay you and John. And now he says I must learn to ride, if you please.’

      ‘That’ll be nice, Miss Katherine,’ Jenny said, a quaver of what sounded suspiciously like laughter in her voice. ‘You’ll see John then, I expect he’s down at the stables.’

      Katherine allowed herself to be buttoned into the habit, which, although a little large over the bust, was a tolerable fit. It was certainly a flattering colour. The boots, as Nick had predicted, were slightly large, but the hat was delightful. Jenny bundled her hair into a coarse net at the nape, set the tricorne at a rakish angle, secured it with a large pin and lowered the veil.

      Katherine stood up and practised walking up and down with the long skirt looped over her arm. ‘Cousin Augusta, whoever she is, certainly has excellent taste.’ She was looking forward to discovering what Nick thought of this fine outfit; it was almost enough to distract her from thinking about having to get on to a horse.

      He was certainly appreciative as she walked down the great staircase. ‘You look very dashing, Kat.’ He walked round her, studying the effect, which made her blush. ‘Come along and meet your new mount.’

      The stable block was magnificent with carriage houses, rows of loose boxes, its own farrier’s shop and numerous open doors through which Katherine could glimpse racks of saddles and bales of hay. Horses were standing looking over the doors of many of the boxes and Nick stopped at one of them.

      ‘My father’s new bay hunter, if I’m not mistaken.’

      ‘Aye, my lord, and his Grace’s pride and joy,’ the groom who was just sliding the bolt across the door confirmed.

      ‘He always had a good eye for a horse.’ Nick leaned on the door for a moment, running his eye over the animal. ‘What have you got for me and her ladyship, Durren?’

      ‘Lightning for her ladyship.’ Katherine swallowed hard. ‘Her ladyship’s man is saddling him up. His Grace thought you might like to try Xerxes, my lord. He’s a bit of a handful.’ He nodded towards a large grey in the middle of the yard, which was attempting to bite the unfortunate stable lad who was holding him. ‘He likes to see how far he can go with a rider,’ he added laconically.

      ‘Hmm.’ Nick eyed the animal, who was now rolling his eyes and lashing out with his hind legs at the stable cat who was crossing the yard. ‘I see his Grace has not lost his sense of humour. This looks like your mount, Kat.’

      John was leading out a middling-sized blue roan, which, much to her relief, appeared to be content to follow him placidly. ‘John!’

      ‘Miss Katherine—your ladyship, I should say.’ He waited until she reached his side, then added quietly, ‘You all right, Miss Katherine? Jenny says you’re in clover, but I wanted to ask you myself.’

      ‘I am fine, at least for a week or two. How are you? Have they given you a comfortable room? And I have your wages at last.’

      ‘I’m suited fine, don’t you be worrying about me. Now, what’s all this about you learning to ride?’

      ‘His lordship is set on teaching me, so I thought it churlish to refuse.’

      ‘You’ll be all right with this beast, then.’ John slapped the roan on its neck. ‘It’s like a sofa with legs.’

      ‘Good,’ Katherine breathed, then followed John’s gaze to where Nick had mounted the grey, which was doing its level best to unseat him. ‘He’s a good rider, isn’t he, John?’

      ‘That’s an understatement,’ the groom agreed. ‘Bloody hell … sorry, Miss Katherine, but did you see what that brute just tried?’ They watched in silence until the grey subsided and stood, its neck flecked with sweat, its ears flicking back to listen to what Nick was saying to it.

      This appeared to be a lively description of its habits and character, delivered in a style that had the audience of grooms cackling in appreciation. Katherine closed her ears firmly to the several choice adjectives that her husband was employing and waited patiently. Hopefully he would feel he had had sufficient challenges for the day and would decide against teaching her to ride. But no. Nick swung down, tossed the reins back to the reluctant stable boy and walked over.

      ‘John.’

      ‘My lord.’

      ‘Will you have a word with Durren and get me something else saddled up? That’s not a safe animal to take out with her ladyship.’ He watched the groom make his way across the yard and remarked, ‘Good man, that. Now, then, we’ll get you up.’

      Katherine managed a bright smile. ‘How?’

      ‘I’ll give you a leg up. Now, stand like this, and hold the reins like that …’ He patiently sorted the reins out for her, then cupped his hands. ‘Right foot in here. One, two, three, up.’

      Katherine found herself seated sideways on a moving, slippery surface. ‘Now, then, you put this foot in the stirrup. Hold on, just let me lengthen it a little.’ Competent hands moved against her leg, doing something, then her foot was pushed into a stirrup. ‘Now, the other leg goes here, over one pommel and under the other. Yes, like that. Now shift so you are sitting square on the saddle: from the back it ought to look as though you could have a leg on each side.’

      How she was remaining