Her father patted her arm gently. “I shall look after Abigail.” He shot her a sidelong knowing look. “And Hattie.”
“Hattie should be easy enough to keep track of. Just seek out the quiet corners where she might be reading.” They both laughed. Hattie had her nose permanently in a book, which made her easy to mind. Her biggest rebellion was sneaking off to read a novel when she was supposed to be studying or doing her chores.
Sally turned to her father again. If she stayed, would he speak to her of whatever it was that Roger had said to concern him so?
Likely not.
His lips twitched and she was certain he could feel her gaze. “I can practically feel your pent-up energy, Sally, dear.” He nodded toward the wide open expanse behind them. The snow had not yet started to fall but the grass was brittle and dry...and inviting.
She was already hitching up her skirts as her father chuckled. “Best to get your running in now. I can’t imagine you’ll have much chance at the great manor.”
The thought made her chest tighten and her lungs drew in great gulps. How she’d survive weeks at a place where she could not run or swim or explore or tend a garden...the thought made her too frustrated for words.
This frustration could only find one outlet.
“I’ll meet you at home,” she called to her father, already moving as he waved her off.
The thought of the weeks ahead had her blood pumping harder than ever and her legs worked as if she could outrun the dreadful fate to come.
A manor. With lords and ladies. She snorted and she moved her arms, falling into a rhythm that cleared her mind as her skirts swooshed about her. It sounded like a nightmare.
She drew fresh air into her lungs as her limbs warmed and her belly caught fire, the tension finally leaving her as she raced the wind toward her home.
The thought of the estate and the weeks to come might feel like a prison, but this?
She grinned as wind whipped her hair about her head.
This was freedom.
Chapter 3
Did the Jones girls absolutely require Sebastian’s escort to the manor the following day? No. Definitely not. But he would escort them all the same.
Sebastian took a winding path that led from the main thoroughfare in Billingham to the seaside house where the Jones family resided. The fort loomed in the distance, even more intimidating and hulking in the gray afternoon light than it had been the night of the ball.
In the dark, the torches had given some hint of the massive size of the old stone frigate, but here and now it seemed to be a living breathing monster, hovering at the edge of the cliffs like it might dive back in at any moment and gobble up whatever stood in its path.
Sebastian had informed his father that he would come to Billingham himself to ensure the girls’ safe arrival but it was likely a secret to no one that his trip to the seaside town was for his own sanity more than the girls’ safety.
He’d been desperate to escape the prison the manor had become. The mundane conversations and idle afternoons not only bored him to tears, they gave him far too much time to think. To stew, even. What was his purpose at Hampton Manor? What was his future to be?
Without military life to keep him occupied and give his days meaning, and with his status as the spare making his presence at his father’s home an afterthought, at best, he was left with too much time to dwell on these questions.
The answers were often too depressing to ponder.
The sight of a ship out on the horizon caught his eye and he kept his face turned toward the sea as he strolled.
He was in no rush to reach the captain’s residence and the stroll was good for his constitution. Daily exercise was one of the things he missed most about military life.
No. No, that wasn’t quite right.
He paused and turned near the hilltop’s edge to take in the sight of the fort from this new angle.
Truth be told, he’d had his daily physical regimen even at the manor. He’d gone riding and hunting every day. He’d taken long walks under the guise of checking the property’s fences and property lines. But leisurely rides and hunting with men who were in their cups was not the same as waking each day with a purpose.
He crossed his arms with a sigh, stopping entirely now to face the onslaught of brisk, salty air as it whipped around him. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there, basking in the sight and sounds of the seaside before he finally turned and—
Oof!
He fell over.
Nay. He was knocked over. Toppled by a whirling dervish in skirts and landing him flat on his back.
“Oh! Oh my goodness, are you all right?” That low, melodic voice above him made him freeze. The weight of her was still on him and it took all his might to keep his hands at his sides when they wished to reach for her, to hold her still.
For one heartbeat he thought about wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. But then she was sitting up, her backside resting on his stomach as she scrambled upright.
“I am sorry, my lord.” Sally’s eyes were wide as she scrambled and fell onto the dirt beside him.
Sebastian supposed this could go one of two ways. He could stand up, help her to her feet, brush himself off, and tell her to forget this awkward incident ever occurred. Or…
He threw his hands over his chest with a groan, squinting
