Portia met his gaze, shook her head as if to say it was all completely beyond her, then let him hurry her along.
They reached her room. Brushing a quick kiss on her fingertips, he urged her inside. The minute the door closed, he headed back to his room.
A pair of giggling maids forced him down the east wing stairs; safe enough—he could cut through the ground floor of the main wing and reach the west wing that way. Swinging down off the stairs, he stepped out—
“Well, well—what have we here?”
He halted, swung around—to face Kitty.
Clutching her peignoir about her, she locked her eyes, widening as full realization struck, on his face, then her gaze traveled slowly down, narrowing.
Simon inwardly cursed; he’d thrown on the same clothes he’d worn last night.
Kitty looked up, her expression brittlely arch. “A trifle late to be leaving Miss Ashford’s bed, but then no doubt you were entertained to the point of distraction.”
The fury of a woman scorned rang in her tone; he’d turned her down any number of times—the malicious gleam in her eyes suggested she remembered every instance.
“Not so distracted as to imagine the local gypsies normally call at dawn to consult with the lady of the house.”
She paled, then flushed, with temper as much as guilt. She opened her lips, met his eyes—and thought better of whatever she’d been about to say. With an icy glare, she gathered her draperies about her, turned, and swept up the stairs.
Simon watched her go, his own eyes narrowing, a sense of danger tickling his spine. Her footsteps died; he swung on his heel and strode for the west wing.
“Can we go riding this morning, do you think?” Cecily Hammond looked around the breakfast table, her blue eyes hopeful.
All those present knew exactly what she hoped—that by organizing such an impromptu event now, in Kitty’s absence, they could avoid her presence for the morning at least.
James looked at Simon. “I can’t see why not.”
“A sensible idea,” Charlie pronounced. He looked at the others—at Portia, Lucy, Annabelle, Desmond, Winifred, Oswald, and Swanston. “Where should we go?”
Numerous suggestions were made; while discussion raged, Portia looked down at her plate. At the mound of food she was steadily consuming. She normally had an excellent appetite; this morning, however, she felt hungry enough to eat a horse.
She didn’t, however, think she could sit one. Not for any length of time.
Quite aside from the discomfort—the twinges and aches she’d ignored at first but which had progressively made themselves felt—if going riding were to worsen her condition such that her recovery was postponed beyond tonight . . . she’d rather not ride than forgo tonight’s lesson.
Tonight’s opportunity to investigate further—something she was determined to do.
The others settled on riding south down the old Roman road to the Badbury Rings, to view the ancient Iron Age fo
rt. Chasing a forkful of kedgeree around her plate, she wondered what excuse she could give.
“I want to give my pair another run.” Simon spoke to James. “They’re eating their heads off, and after the last months, idleness doesn’t suit their temperaments.” He looked across the table at Portia, caught her eye. “I could take you up with me if you’d prefer?”
She blinked at him, then realized—as he already had—that no one there, bar Lady O who wasn’t about to hear, knew of her love of riding. No one would think it odd if she elected to be driven instead.
“Thank you.” She shifted slightly on her chair, realized he must have some inkling of her state . . . looked down before she blushed. “I would rather sit and watch the scenery.”
She didn’t look up to see if his lips quirked. A moment later, she felt his gaze leave her, and he spoke to James.
Fifteen minutes later, they all gathered in the garden hall, then set out for the stables. Sorting out horses and saddles took some time; Portia consoled the little chestnut mare while Simon’s bays were harnessed.
He came to fetch her, one brow rising as he walked down the aisle to her side. “Ready?”
She met his gaze, read the watchful concern in his eyes, smiled lightly and gave him her hand. “Yes.”
He led her out, handed her up, then climbed up beside her.