Of One Heart - By Cynthia Wright Page 0,114

can you recognize each one from such a distance?"

He gave a light shrug. "Instinct, I suppose. I've known most of those men all my life."

Finally they reached the curving brow of a hill and Sandhurst reined in his horse. "There it is," he said with feeling. "That's your new home."

Below them, in a deep, rounded valley, lay Sandhurst Manor. Micheline could see only that it was rose-colored, rather than golden, and sprawling, with lots of chimneys. Smooth, well-tended gardens spread out to the edges of the hillsides, and there were beechwoods to the north.

"Some people call it Sandhurst-in-the-Hole," he said with a wry smile. "You can see why."

Micheline was already mesmerized. "It's perfectly lovely."

As they rode down into the vale, Andrew explained, "the manor house was rebuilt during my youth. Due to my bold mother, brick was chosen instead of limestone. As for the rest... I've never been certain who was responsible. If it was Mother, then she was more imaginative than I ever realized. At any rate, this house is exactly my own taste. It could have been created with me in mind."

Their horses slowed to a walk as they passed a lily pond and clipped yew trees. Ahead, an eccentrically splendid manor house of salmon-pink brick rose up, charming in its irregularity. The house was tall, turreted, and gabled, with decorated chimneys rising haphazardly above the battlemented parapet. The half-timbered gables were of different sizes, as were the turrets crowding to the east of the front. The porch was not in the center of the facade, and even the spacious, square-headed windows seemed scattered at random.

Micheline stared, speechless, for a long minute, then turned toward Sandhurst, beaming. "I feel as if I am having a dream! Can this really be your home?"

"Our home," he amended. Andrew followed her gaze and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. "Rather odd, isn't it!"

"Rather wonderful!" Micheline corrected him adamantly. "I love it."

"Then we're of one mind again."

"It's a happy-looking house," she decided.

"Happy in its oddity," Sandhurst agreed. In spite of his offhand manner, he was immensely relieved by her reactions, not just now, but all day long. With some women, he might have suspected pretense, but never with Micheline. Since the moment she'd owned up to her ill-concealed feelings for him, he'd never had reason to doubt her word.

"I think it is very beautiful in its oddity." She was rising up to defend the house as if it had always been her own and Sandhurst were the newcomer.

"Pardon me." Laughing, he reached out to catch her hand. "Don't take me to task! I'm on your side."

As they drew nearer the manor, Micheline finally noticed the long-legged horses silhouetted against one hillside, while sheep covered the rest of the valley. Dry stone walls separated the two kinds of animals. There were extensive stables to the west, and a long-suppressed thrill leaped inside Micheline at the thought of so many magnificent steeds. Surely paradise itself could not be better suited to her tastes!

Andrew himself was becoming distracted by the various elements of homecoming. He could sense the house coming to life, and, meanwhile, he was wondering if the horses had been tended properly, if the gardens had thrived in his absence, and if anything had changed within the manor.

Stableboys were rushing forward to take the horses as they neared the entrance to the house and dismounted. Sandhurst had no sooner lifted Micheline lightly to the ground than a plump, middle-aged lady with light brown hair drawn back tightly into a hood came flying out of the manor, arms outstretched.

"My lord, my lord!" she cried, tears dripping onto her pink cheeks. "Is it really you?"

"Of course it's me, Betsy," he assured her, holding her close. When the woman drew back to gaze at him, he reached out a hand to Micheline. "I've a surprise for you. This is my wife, Lady Sandhurst. Micheline, I want you to meet Betsy, otherwise known as Mistress Trymme. She's kept this place running smoothly for years. I couldn't leave in good conscience if Betsy weren't here."

"A wife!" Mistress Trymme ejaculated. "Our Lord has answered my prayers."

Micheline extended her hand, instantly drawn to the older woman. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Trymme."

"Oh, no, my lady, the pleasure is mine!" Looking up at Sandhurst, she nodded approval in a way that indicated a long-standing closeness between the two. "You've picked a marvelously lovely marchioness, Lord Andrew! And now you must know none of us will rest until

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