would wiggle under her a little, that’s all. It wasn’t supposed to break.”
Hunter held back his growing—or regrowing to be precise—anger. “And what was supposed to happen with Mr. Potsbottom?”
It was only a guess that Miss Willory had been involved in what had transpired outside the music room, but the coincidence of her showing up with two friends just moments after a typically good-natured man had been pawing at Kate made it an educated guess. A good one, by the way Miss Willory’s eyes briefly widened before she pasted on an innocent expression.
“I’m sure I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re referring to.” Her tone turned wheedling. “Did something unsavory occur between Mr. Potsbottom and Kate? I’d not be surprised. Everyone knows she’s been hoping for a kiss.”
“A notion you fed him along with drink, no doubt. And you brought the ladies around in the hopes of finding the two of them in a compromising position, is that it?”
“I’ve no idea what you mean—”
“Tell him what else you’ve done,” Lizzy demanded. “She’s done something else,” she informed him before Miss Willory could answer. “She was giggling in the stables as Kate left and I know she’s done something nasty.”
Kate had gone for a ride instead of her room? Fear, cold and painful, seeped into his bones. “What did you do, Mary Jane?”
Miss Willory gasped at him. “You haven’t permission to call me by my Christian name. I—”
“What did you do?” he barked.
She took a step back, but tipped her chin up and pressed her lips together in a thin, mutinous, and very guilty line.
“Bloody hell.” He could argue with her all day and not receive an answer. He spun and took off down the hall at a dead run.
“I’ve not done anything!” Miss Willory shouted after him. “I was only in the stable for a—ow!”
Aside from dancing and playing the piano, riding was one of the few physical activities Kate was able to perform with some grace. The sound of hoofs hitting the ground and the feel of the horse moving beneath her had a similar effect as the sea, except that it didn’t silence the music in her head, it simply gave it a rhythm to follow. Knowing an abrupt change in that rhythm sometimes caused her problems, Kate had learned to take extreme care in how she handled her mount. After all, a fall from a horse could be so much more than just embarrassing. It could be deadly.
Not that she hadn’t ever embarrassed herself by falling from her horse. She had, but those few occasions had occurred when she’d let her mind wander while her mount meandered around at a leisurely walk and admittedly, once while her horse had been standing perfectly still.
But Kate was not in the mood to walk her mount for long. She wanted to race. She wanted to feel the wind blow past her face and see the earth fly by beneath her feet. She wanted…
She groaned. What she wanted was to march right back into the house, find the nearest liftable—and if at all possible, pointed—object and hurl it squarely at Hunter’s irritating head.
Blithely stroll into danger, indeed.
Kate stopped her mount, Whistler, when she reached the edge of Pallton House’s grounds. It wasn’t all that far to the bluffs, she thought with a wistful sigh. Pity she couldn’t go. She imagined it would be safe enough. Smuggler’s Beach itself was another quarter mile away from where she and Mirabelle had stood and looked out over the English Channel. And she knew for a certainty that there would be no smugglers about until night.
With another sigh, she turned Whistler about, intending to have him walk a bit longer, until she was sure his muscles were warmed, and then race him back to the house. She nudged him forward with her knees.
He balked.
She tried again and added a verbal command. “Walk.”
He moved, but only in a series of prancing side steps.
“Good heavens, horse, whatever is the matter with you?”
She backed him up three paces to remind him who held the reins, and then turned him in a circle to do the same. “Now then, are you quite done misbehaving?”
He shook his head and snorted, which she might have found amusing, if he hadn’t been acting so strangely. His ears were twitching back and forth, and he was swishing his tail as if annoyed. She scanned the ground around them, wondering if uncertain footing or a small animal might have frightened him.
Finding nothing amiss, she