Papa used to get when he sat alone in the library.”
An image of Jeffrey’s faraway expression materialized. Catherine knew it well. In the beginning, she had wondered about it, had often asked him about its source. But after so many evasions and insulting quips, she had stopped wondering and asking.
“I’m sorry, Sophie,” she said. “I learned this morning that Lord Somerton was not feeling well, so my thoughts had turned toward his progress.”
“May we take him some of the biscuits Cook and I made last night?”
Catherine smiled. How she loved this little girl. “That’s very thoughtful, Sophie. When we return to the house, I’ll send Mrs. Fox a note to inquire about his lordship’s welfare.” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “I have a surprise for you.”
Sophie lit with delight. “A surprise for me?” She tore off a piece of bread and tossed it into the water.
“Smaller bits, pumpkin. You don’t want the fish to mistake our toes for your bread.”
“Yes, Mama.” She followed words to action. “Do I have to wait until Saturday?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Her little face fell. “Oh, I wish you hadn’t told me. I will go mad thinking about my surprise.”
“In that case,” Catherine said, “I probably shouldn’t tell you that it has to do with Bellamere’s stables.” She still found Sebastian’s change of heart amazing. One day he didn’t want her daughter underfoot, and the next he’s inviting Sophie into his inner sanctum.
“The earl’s stables?” Sophie dropped the whole slice of bread in the lake and clambered up on her knees to squeeze Catherine’s face between her grubby hands. “Tell me about the stables, Mama. Please, oh, please, oh, please.”
Catherine laughed, hugging her daughter to her, but the horse-crazed girl was having none of it.
“Mama, this is serious.” Her daughter’s breath caught and her eyes widened in excitement. “Am I going inside?”
Nodding, Catherine said, “At Lord Somerton’s personal invitation.”
“You mean I don’t have to sneak in?”
“Have you?”
Sophie shook her head. “No, but Teddy and I have been plotting ways to see the earl’s horses.”
Catherine bit her lip and forced her features into stern lines. “No, young lady.” She gave her daughter a little shake to emphasize her point. “There will be no sneaking in anywhere. Lord Somerton will personally introduce you to his horses.”
Sophie whooped as she threw her arms around Catherine’s neck and pressed a dozen smacking kisses on her face. “Must I wait until Saturday? I will die with antishipation.”
“Yes, you do.” Catherine tweaked her daughter’s nose. “And where is all this drama coming from?”
“What do you mean, ‘drama’?”
She settled her daughter more comfortably across her lap and pulled a cucumber sandwich from the nearby basket. “You are experiencing some extreme emotions, my dear. Mad, serious, die. Quite unlike you.” More than normal, Catherine amended.
“Oh, that,” she said around a mouthful. “Eloisa Walker’s older sister is very sophishticated. She knows all the important words.”
“Well, if you’re going to mimic your elders, you must listen carefully. You will die with anticipation and Eloisa’s older sister is very sophisticated.”
She nodded her head. “Yes, exactly.”
Catherine’s smile was bittersweet. Although the Walkers had a penchant for gossip, they treated Sophie as one of their own. With four girls and three boys, the Walkers provided her daughter something Catherine never could. Brothers and sisters.
She had always wanted a large family, not as large as the Walkers, but three or four children would have brought her immense joy and, when the time came, many grandchildren. Being an only child herself, she knew the challenges Sophie faced.
“Mama, who is that man?”
Catherine jerked her head up, her thoughts going to Sebastian. Even though they had been apart for less than a day, she looked forward to seeing him again and feeling his strong arms wrapped around her. She examined one side of the lake to the other, but saw no familiar—or otherwise—masculine figure. “I don’t see anyone, dear.”
Sophie pointed her half-eaten sandwich at a cluster of trees and tall bushes to Catherine’s right. Pushing her daughter’s hand down, she tried to piece together greens and browns and pale yellows into a recognizable form. When she was on the verge of giving up, something stirred, and Catherine realized she was looking too high.
Adjusting her gaze, she concentrated harder until finally a face emerged. Bulbous, watery eyes, wide forehead, thin, greasy hair, and yellow, neglected teeth. Catherine’s blood froze in her veins.
The disgusting little man from the butcher’s shop had visited her thoughts often since their first encounter. Each time, her uneasiness