Catherine noticed Sebastian’s complexion turned a nasty shade of red. Thinking he was upset by the maid’s interruption, she said, “Thank you…”
“Belle, ma’am,” she said with a curtsy.
“Belle, I should like to try one.” She picked up a shell. “My mother is quite fond of these. Please see if she would like one.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She curtsied again. “Sir.”
The moment the maid turned away, Catherine saw Sebastian’s eyes narrow on the young woman’s back. “My housekeeper must have hired additional staff for today.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Besides Belle, I see two other unfamiliar maids and a couple new footmen.”
He sent her a sidelong glance. “Care to point them out?”
Feeling ill at ease with his request, Catherine located the older maid weaving through the guests. “The buxom maid striding by my mother.”
Steel-gray eyes followed her direction, his lips thinned. “Who else?”
“The distinguished footman with a queue helping Belle fill her tray with more delicacies.”
“Go on.”
“Near the bevy of young misses is a roguish footman with black-as-night hair eyeing Miranda Walker.” The gentleman glanced in their direction before turning back to his companion.
The earl nudged her in the opposite direction. “Any other foreign faces?”
“Only the tall maid, with the black hair and spectacles.”
Sebastian stopped and performed a surreptitious scan. “I don’t see a black-haired maid.”
Catherine followed his lead. “She looked to be taking care of refreshments and cleaning away dirty dishes. I do not see her now.” A thought struck her. “You don’t think those people work for Cochran, do you?”
“Doubtful, but I will look into it.” He resumed their stroll, halting a few feet behind the vicar and her mother. “You concentrate on making Sophie happy. I’ll look into the matter of the servants.”
“But—”
“Trust me,” he said. “I might be a failure in the area of finer feelings. But, when it comes to protecting those under my charge, I am unmatched.”
Emotion gripped her chest, and Catherine wanted nothing more than to kiss the man silly. She settled for a hand on his sleeve. “I have not found you lacking in either pursuit, my lord.” Something feral and very male entered his expression. Catherine swallowed and retreated with a pat to his arm. “Very well, my lord. See to the mysterious servants and I’ll take care of my daughter.”
His heavy-lidded gaze did not budge from her face for several heart-pounding seconds. Catherine began to fear he would do something embarrassing—and highly enjoyable—like kiss her.
Then he drew back a step and inclined his head. “Until later.”
Catherine forced her gaze to sweep over her guests, rather than follow Sebastian’s progress. Had she done otherwise, she would not have been able to mask the yearning burning in her soul.
***
Arm in arm, Catherine and Sophie strolled down the path leading from the barn to the house. Dusk was on the horizon, signaling the end to a memorable day. Catherine glanced down at her daughter’s bent head. “What’s the matter, dear?”
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I wish Teddy didn’t have to do chores.”
“Me, too, sweetheart.” Catherine hugged her closer. “But that’s the deal he struck with Carson so he could spend time with you today. He made a choice, one he seemed more than content with.”
“I suppose so.”
They entered the house and made their way to the nursery. “It was kind of you to include him on your tour of Lord Somerton’s stables.”
“Bastian’s horses were grand, weren’t they, Mama?”
“Very grand.”
“Did you see me ride Cira?”
“Indeed, I did. You were quite accomplished, young lady.”
Sophie beamed. “I thought about asking Eloisa Walker, but she would have complained about the smell the whole time.”
“Then it is good you didn’t extend an invitation.”
“She might be miffed at me.”
Catherine held back a smile. “I’m sure you will have no problem coaxing her out of her pout.” She pushed open the nursery door and found Mrs. Clarke pacing inside.
The governess swung around, her eyes red-rimmed and her hair askew.
Oblivious, Sophie ran to her faux governess. “Mrs. Clarke, you should have joined us. So many lovely horses.”
The governess rested her hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I missed your outing. Sounds like you had an exciting time.”
Sophie’s smile diminished. She reached up to trace a fingertip over Mrs. Clarke’s blotchy cheek. “Does your head still hurt?”
Fresh tears wobbled in the woman’s eyes. “Somewhat. Thank you for asking.” She grasped Sophie’s hand in both of hers, kissing her fingertip. “Now we must wash the barn from your body.”
Her daughter groaned.
“Perhaps we can hold off until tomorrow morning, Mrs. Clarke,” Catherine