Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

“Then tell Tom he has to come with me, if it’ll make you happy, though I’m sure it hardly matters what society has to say about me, don’t you think, as long as Derry’s prepared to marry me and prove that his devotion is stronger than the credence he gives to society’s opinion of me.”

“You’re being too dramatic, Katherine—”

But Katherine was out of earshot to hear the rest. Within twenty minutes, she was dressed in a stylish dove-grey riding habit and smart, high-crowned hat, the energetic Stargazer restless beneath her. Urgency, excitement, and terror mingled in her veins, but at least her mission—terrible though it was—promised her some release. No more languishing in the drawing room dwelling on her disappointed hopes. No more passive acceptance of Jack’s choice to prioritize Odette’s happiness over Katherine’s own, simply because to do anything else rendered Jack less than the man he wanted to be to the woman he chose as his wife.

She waited for Tom to leap into the saddle of his own mount, and then they were off, galloping up the northern road in the direction of Patmore Farm a little over an hour’s journey away when the weather was fine, but probably closer to two, today, due to the fact the rain had not eased and parts of the road would be churned to mud or washed away by river or stream.

Katherine didn’t care about the discomfort posed by the weather. The wind that lashed the heavy hanks of wet hair that had escaped from her bun across her face was welcome for making her feel. She cared nothing for the pain that spasmed across her lower back due to the hectic jolting she’d become unused to. Freddy had forbidden her from riding in public after she’d been admired for her ‘dash and spirit’ and speculation as to whether she’d been sewn into her habit in one of London’s scandal sheets.

After he’d sold her horse, Katherine had done only a little riding, though Lord Quamby had given her the use of Stargazer whenever she wished. The risk hadn’t seemed worth it since she knew Freddy would question the servants about whether she’d kept her promise to stay out of the saddle.

Now she felt freer than she could remember. Freer than she had during her seemingly endless marriage. Freer than she had since Freddy had died, for by then Derry had made it c

lear he was there to fill the breach.

And she had owed him a very large debt.

Thanks to Freddy.

Before they were even halfway, the road had become a quagmire, and the horses were tiring. Tom slowed, and Katherine drew to a halt beside him in the shelter of a small beech forest.

“Do not suggest we turn back because we’re closer to Quamby House than Patmore Farm,” she warned him, channelling her pain into anger. She was still panting from the exertion of negotiating terrain far more difficult than she ever had before. Although she’d always been considered a good horsewoman, she had little experience of riding in such adverse conditions.

“I’m yer servant, ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Tom had been Lord Quamby’s retainer for as long as Katherine could remember. She’d always liked the way his eyes twinkled in his ruddy face as he pulled at his whiskers when he addressed her. He’d been doing so since Katherine was a child. Now the whiskers he pulled were greyer and bushier and his cheeks weather-beaten to brown as he went on, “But I am thinkin’, ma’am, that it’s reckless ter fight the elements like this when yer could secure a post-chaise in the village over yonder.” He pointed to a small hamlet nestled in the lee of a hill.

Katherine shook her head. “I know we’ve been journeying an hour, and we still have some distance to go, but a carriage is far more likely to become bogged or held up by rising waters than we are on horseback.” She emphasised this with a scornful look, just as she had done when she was a child and teasing him. “Are you getting too old for such discomfort, Tom? Shall I find another groom in the village who can keep up with me?”

He didn’t respond in the bantering tone of the old days. Instead, his brows knitted and he sucked his gums before saying, “With the greatest respect, it is ye who are tirin’, ma’am, an' that ain’t b’cause yer not a mighty fine horsewoman. This kind of ridin’ needs practise, however, else yer likely ter come a cropper.”

Katherine bit her lip. She knew she was out of practice, but she was not giving up. “We’re going on, Tom. Just another hour and we’ll be at Patmore Farm. Jack is injured, and I won’t rest until I know how badly.”

“Ah, but it ain’t no surprise, all this madcap ride.” He made a sweeping gesture with one arm. “Ye and Jack were always thick as thieves. ‘E’ll be mighty glad ter see yer at ‘is bedside, I don’t doubt. Well, we’d best get on wiv it, eh?”

The rest had been much needed, even if they hadn’t dismounted. Katherine was relieved Tom hadn’t exercised his stubborn streak, though she knew he disapproved. Strangely, not as much as she’d expected for he seemed to fully endorse Katherine’s mission, even if he was less enthusiastic regarding her means of expediting it as quickly as possible.

With relief, they crested the last hill before reaching Patmore Farm and stared down at the familiar house nestled in the valley. Now her breath came in even sharper bursts, hurting her side. She closed her eyes as she dug her hand into the pain as if to slice it in half.

“We’re nearly there, Tom,” she said, watching a gaggle of geese waddle across the lawn of the pretty farmhouse in the distance. “Fifteen minutes down the hill and across the river.”

He shook his head. “We can’t cross there, miss. Water’s too ’igh. We’ll need ter go upstream ter find someplace safer ‘an narrow—if it can be done at all in this weather.”

Katherine squinted as she bit her lip. They were too close to allow a diversion.

“We can find us a boat, miss. Leave the horses ’ere. Aye, mayhap that’s safest.”

But the idea of searching for a cottager who might have a boat he was prepared to lend them was too much in the way of delay for Katherine.

“We’re too far away from the water to tell for certain,” she said, urging Stargazer forward. The current was flowing strongly, and it was much higher than it usually was.

“With enough speed, I think Stargazer can jump it.” She had to talk herself into it as much as Tom, and her mouth felt numb.

“No, miss.” He shook his head. “Stargazer may jest as easily not make the distance ‘an then where would yer both be? I’ll not be responsible fer draggin’ yer corpse from the river when the current finally abates.”

“What a morbid turn of phrase you have, Tom,” Katherine managed to quip. It was easier to revert to banter than to acknowledge the very real danger that concerned Tom.

“Come, miss; let’s go back up an’ follow the road. See if it takes us ter a more fav’rable crossing.”