The American Bride - By Karla Darcy Page 0,36

blazing red hair who rides like the wind. I could swear I've never seen her around here before. She was up riding in the high meadow and then she vanished."

"What kind of a horse be she riding?" Glum asked with apparent interest.

"I don't know. It was gray but I didn't get a very close look at it."

"Well, I can ask some of the boys." Glum's lackluster tone indicated the probable failure of such a plan.

"Do that," Julian commanded. Then in a more offhand tone of voice, he continued, "It's not important. I just thought it was passing strange finding an unknown girl on my land."

So that's the way of it, Glum thought staring with foreboding at Julian's disappearing back. No wonder Miss Farraday was in such a lather. Almost caught. The worst of it was that Wilton had failed to recognize the mare. With his love and appreciation of horses he was able to spot and identify most animals at a great distance. Glum had to admit that Miss Farraday made a breathtaking picture when she was astride a horse. He could understand why Wilton had had eyes for nothing but the girl.

Shaking his head Glum stomped toward the stables. "There's always trouble when the stallions are in rut," the headgroom prophesied.

Julian, unaware of Glum's dire predictions, sat long over his breakfast coffee contemplating the girl in the woods.

Even at a distance Julian had recognized that the girl was gentry. She was mounted on prime stock. The gray had taken the fences on delicate legs and its lines were good. Julian had taken that much in unconsciously. No tenant's daughter had a horse of that caliber. But it was her ability to ride, jumping sidesaddle by God, that labeled her as a member of his own class. He wondered what had made the girl bolt. Perhaps she was staying at one of the estates, wandered too far afield and then had been frightened when Julian approached.

Sipping at the cold coffee, Julian thought it might be a good idea to become reacquainted with some of his neighbors.

After all, now that he was planning to spend more time on the estate, Julian felt that it would be politic to visit some of the other landowners to exchange ideas. It would be splendid if he could locate other children the same age as Belin and Richard, he rationalized. Perhaps during the visits he would be able to smoke out the girl in the woods. He ran through the names of his neighbors trying to remember if any of them had older daughters or young wives. There was something about the red-haired horsewoman that struck him as familiar. He hadn't been close enough to observe her features but he had the distinct feeling that he had seen her somewhere before. She definitely owed him an apology for dashing off as she had, Julian muttered, eyes narrowed to angry slits. He would find that girl if he had to visit every estate in the county.

He slammed his fist onto the table setting the china to trembling. Why now, when he should be contemplating the coming joys of marital bliss did this girl have to turn up. Even the brief glimpse that he had of the beautiful wood sprite promised a fascination he was loath to ignore. At any rate it would do no harm to find the girl, if only to appease his curiosity.

"Can we, Miss Farraday?" Belin asked. "Just for today?"

"I'm sorry, Belin. I'm afraid I wasn't attending." Cara sat up straighter and tried to bring her mind back to the breakfast table conversation.

"I just wanted to know if we could read today instead of doing sums."

Belin's voice was exasperated as she repeated the question. "It's started in to rain and it's too gloomy to do sums."

"Admit it, Belin. Even if it was sunny you'd rather do anything than sums," was Richard's brotherly observation.

Cara looked outside, surprised that the day had turned so rainy. It made a perfect compliment to her mood that fluctuated between fear of discovery and general gloom.

"Can we, Miss Farraday?"

"I'm sorry, Belin," Cara apologized again to the child. "I think reading would be a grand idea. In fact if you wanted to pick out a book I'm sure that Richard would read it to you."

"She always picks out baby books," Richard complained.

"I do not!"

"You do so!"

Cara settled the argument by picking out a book of Viking adventures with enough battles to keep Richard contented and yet with simple enough stories