Winning the Gentleman (Hearts on the Heath #2) - Kristi Ann Hunter Page 0,12

cottage.

He poked his head into the small stable to check on Shadow and then entered his home. One room, divided into areas that suited all his needs. Situated as he was on a shielded corner of Oliver’s family estate, he never received visitors, keeping his tiny abode secure and safe. The door closed behind him, and he wrenched his cravat loose, breathing easily for the first time in over an hour.

Moving around the small space, shucking the trappings of polite society and making himself a truly awful cup of tea, Aaron’s muscles relaxed one by one. No more pretending was required of him tonight. Here, he was finally where he belonged. Alone.

Four

For two years Sophia’s life had been the circus and the fairs and amusements that surrounded it. Noisy. Crowded. She’d learned long ago how to sleep through the drunken revelries. Tonight, though, she lay on her straw pallet, listening for the world to quiet so she could slip away.

Jonas told her to sleep since she was riding a race in the morning, promising to wake her when it was time to go, but rest was nowhere to be found. She forced herself to close her eyes, drifting off for snatches of time here and there, but never truly easing into sleep. It was almost a relief when Jonas touched her shoulder, summoning her into the darkest part of the night.

No one but Notley was going to care about their departure, but that didn’t stop her from jumping at every noise and peering at every shadow. The eerie quiet scraped across her skin, joining her guilty conscience in slicing her nerves to ribbons.

Rhiannon plodded along between Sophia and Jonas, everything the twins owned in the world strapped to her saddle. Two pots wrapped in a thin blanket to keep them from clanging were draped off one side of the saddle, while the longe and other training tools hung off the other. Two small bags were strapped to the seat. Altogether, it was a lighter load than when the horse carried Sophia.

Pitiful, really, that it was all the siblings could claim after twenty-three years on this earth, but it made fleeing in the middle of the night somewhat easier.

Sophia glanced at Jonas, who was barely visible in the starlight as they walked steadily through the quiet marketplace. “You’ve scarcely said a word since I told you about the job.” What little he’d uttered had been in relation to their departure. He didn’t want to risk an outcry either, so they’d made this plan to creep away in the middle of the night. It also allowed them plenty of time to walk from Cambridge to Newmarket. Who knew how long that would take?

“Say something,” she hissed.

He turned her direction, eyebrows lifting slowly, and she knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth to say, “Something.”

She rolled her eyes to the dark sky. It would be a relief if his ability to crack a joke meant he was embracing this gamble, but the truth was Jonas was capable of being ornery no matter his mood. She bit her lip and dropped her gaze to the path in front of them. Should she push him for more? Try to convince him the idea had merit?

They reached the far end of the marketplace. Soon they’d be leaving the fair, the city, and their old lives behind them. The circus was scheduled to move on today, and she’d rather be far away when Mr. Notley learned he was moving on without them. While he wouldn’t delay the departure, he was sure to be loud about his displeasure.

The scent of food and animals gave way to the freshness of trees and fading cookfires. The space between the buildings grew. Soon they were at the edge of Cambridge, well on their way to Newmarket and new opportunities.

Jonas waited to speak until they’d rounded a bend in the road and a copse of trees hid the last vestiges of the town from sight. “I do believe this is a bad idea.”

The idea went beyond bad and into the realm of terrible, but it had been the only opportunity to come their way in years. Jonas seemed to thrive no matter where he was, but Sophia knew life could be much better.

There had to be a way for it to get better.

“We don’t have a choice,” Sophia said, crossing her arms to hug her middle. “The surgeon said your only treatment is rest. Constantly traveling, suffering the seat