Winning the Gentleman (Hearts on the Heath #2) - Kristi Ann Hunter Page 0,86

a couple emerged.

Their clothing and confidence left no question as to whether they were the inhabitants of the fine house. “You made it,” the man said with a wide smile.

“I have been here before.” Mr. Whitworth dismounted, looped his reins over his arm, and approached to help Sophia down.

She did not want a scene like earlier, where she lost every thought in her head as soon as he took her in his arms. On the other hand, she also wanted to make a good impression on her new hosts.

Self-preservation won out. The likelihood of her maintaining the respect of these people was slim, and she had to live with herself far longer than she would live with them. She freed her foot and dropped to the ground.

Mr. Whitworth frowned.

The gentleman at the bottom of the stairs laughed.

The woman shook her head at the man, then sent Sophia a serene smile.

Lady Rebecca had smiled like that. Was there a school where wealthy women went to learn that skill, or was it something they inherited?

Mr. Whitworth sighed and swept his arm out toward the couple. “Sophia, I would like you to meet Lord Trent Hawthorne and Lady Adelaide.” He turned to the couple. “This is Miss Fitzroy.”

“How do you do?” Lady Adelaide inclined her head politely.

“Everything is taken care of.” Lord Trent rocked forward on his toes, grin still in place, hands clasped lightly behind his back.

Mr. Whitworth’s jaw tightened, and the tendons of his neck stood out for a moment before he nodded. “Thank you.”

Lady Adelaide frowned. “I’m not sure my maid was able to find everything.”

“If she found anything, she found it all.” Mr. Whitworth cleared his throat. “We’ll put the horses away, then come up to the house.”

“Pleasure to have you here,” Lord Trent called out as Sophia followed the retreating Mr. Whitworth and his horse. She glanced back to see the man waving as they left, his grin so wide it couldn’t possibly be real.

Was she staying with a madman?

Perhaps. But they seemed kind, if a little light in the attic. It was nice of them to at least pretend to be happy she was here. She took a deep breath. Everything would be fine.

She stepped into the stable and every worry dropped away as a familiar white tail, long and silky and perfectly combed, swished at her from one of the stalls. The moment a stable lad took Sophia’s reins from her, she rushed to Rhiannon’s side, squeezing into the stall beside her beloved horse.

She ran her hands over her smooth coat and hugged her tight. “I’ll be able to ride you here,” she whispered. “You and me on those open fields. It will be glorious.”

Once again she was confused by the man she worked for. Mr. Whitworth had arranged this, for her to be able to see to her horse and her obligations. She’d thought his dark mood was because he was angry with her, and maybe he was, but he’d still cared enough to include her horse in his arrangements. She needed to thank him. And perhaps offer a less frantic apology for the turmoil she’d created in his life over the past week.

He joined her in the stall, stepping in just enough to avoid being accidentally kicked by the horse.

“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet, though she didn’t know if it was an attempt not to disturb the peace of the moment, the reverence of her sincerity, or fear that her gratitude would be rejected.

Mr. Whitworth glanced at her before redirecting his attention back to Rhiannon.

Was that in acknowledgment or rejection? Her gaze dropped to the floor, where a scattering of hay seemed to shine against the dark wood floor. “Also,” she said, then swallowed hard and peeked her eyes up in his direction, “I’m sorry.”

His face swung toward her once more, and this time his eyes stayed fixed on her. “What for?”

She opened her mouth to verbalize her apology in greater detail, but then she wasn’t entirely sure herself. She was simply sorry she’d put him through everything.

He leaned a shoulder on the stall wall and tilted his head. “There are several options, don’t you think?”

The breath she’d taken in to voice a more detailed apology rushed out of her mouth in a huff. “Pardon?”

“For you to apologize for. You have a lot of options.”

She crossed her arms and lifted her chin to look him in the eye. Just because she’d had the same thought didn’t mean he needed to voice it out