At the stables, one of Nicholas’s young grooms stood dumbstruck, the saddle he’d been polishing clutched to his chest as Carrie walked past him. Nicholas smiled to himself. Apparently, the effect she had on callow youths was just as Bella had described.
He gestured to the groom. “Fetch my horse, Richie.”
“Yes, milord.” The boy paused at the stable door and glanced back at Carrie, fetching in her rust-colored habit and black hat. If she noticed the lad, she didn’t reveal it.
Suitable mounts were chosen after Nicholas dissuaded Jeremy from riding the colt, Prince, which tried to unseat Nicholas the last time he’d ridden him. Jeremy’s attempt to argue was silenced at a shake of Nicholas’s head.
With Jeremy mounted on his second choice, a young gelding, they rode out of the stable yard and down the drive with Chester racing ahead. They took the bridle path through the woods and emerged from the trees beside the river, where they crossed a bridge. The estate unfolded, paddocks and meadows gave way to roads leading to the village and the tenant farms.
Nicholas told them he would first call to inspect Crumpton’s newly thatched roof.
As they rode up to the farmhouse, the farmer rushed out to greet them, his dogs milling around Chester with tails wagging. “It’s a thing of beauty, m’lord.” Crumpton beamed at them. “Not a leak to be found during yesterday’s rain. Mrs. Crumpton is pleased as punch.”
Nicholas introduced Carrie and his wards as Mrs. Crumpton emerged from the doorway, untying her apron, bringing with her the delicious smell of bacon frying. She curtsied. “May we offer you and your guests something to eat or a cup of tea, m’lord?”
That was Crumpton’s breakfast Nicholas could smell. “Thank you, Mrs. Crumpton. Another time, we might partake of your excellent scones. I enjoyed those sent to me very much. Lord Leeming is eager to see more of the estate.”
Mrs. Crumpton’s cheeks grew pink, and she bobbed.
Nicholas tipped his hat, and they rode on.
They rode up a steep rise. From the top, the view stretched for miles like a patchwork quilt of meadows and plowed fields. Smoke from the wanderer camp wafted in the air, and farther north, a smoke spiral drifted from an encampment. That would be the unwelcome visitor Nicholas was keen to visit.
Jeremy angled his horse alongside Nicholas’s and pointed to a gray-stone edifice some miles away. “Is that the ruin of a house I see over to the west?”
“That ancient pile of stone is the home of my ancestors. Nothing much to see there. A wall still stands, and what’s left of stone steps leading to the cellars. They flood when the river’s high.”
Jeremy swiveled to look at him, his eyes keen. “Perhaps we could…”
Nicholas laughed. “I neither have a wish to venture into the cellars, Jeremy, nor discover what occurred there hundreds of years ago.”
“Are there any Roman ruins, hereabouts?”
“A Roman villa in Great Witcombe and another near Chedworth,” Nicholas said. “We can ride over and visit them sometime if you wish.”
“Could we, sir? I should like it above anything.”
“Then we shall. Time to go,” Nicholas called to Carrie and Bella, who were chatting together.
Their mounts followed Nicholas’s horse down the slope to level ground. Nicholas drew rein and pointed. “Race you to that fence, Jeremy.” He’d seen enough to know the boy was a good rider. He’d make a fine equestrian one day.
With an enthusiastic shout, Jeremy took off. He spurred the speedy gelding forward, but the young horse was no match for Aquilo. Nicholas allowed the boy to move ahead and then, to make a fair race of it, urged his horse on. They were neck and neck as they reached the fence.
Jeremy’s horse edged ahead by a nostril. “I won!” he yelled to Carrie and Bella, who came trotting behind them.
“You did, indeed. I prophesy you will win many such races in the coming years,” Nicholas said with a chuckle. “But a winner never boasts, Jeremy.”
The boy’s eyes widened, and he nodded.
“Why must men always have to race each other?” Bella asked when she and Carrie joined them.
“That’s quite a serious question, Bella,” Nicholas said with a wink at Jeremy. “But we don’t have time to discuss it. Shall we ride on?”
Jeremy and Bella urged their horses into a canter, while Nicholas continued at a slower pace, falling in beside Carrie.
She turned to him. “Good of you to let Jeremy win.”
“How do you know I did?”
She scoffed. “You let Bella win at cards, too. But you did not let me beat you at chess.”
“Would you have liked me to?”
Her gaze beneath the brim of her hat was questioning. “No. I wouldn’t have.”
He wasn’t about to patronize her. Nicholas was totally captivated. He admired her independence and hoped no husband would try to rein her in. “Then you have your answer.”
“You believe you can see through me so easily?” she asked, laughter lifting her lips.
“Impossible, Carrie. But that is part of your charm,” he said truthfully.
They rode on.
“Are you still worried about Jeremy?” Nicholas asked her.
“He is a great deal better. He has many distractions here, and putting some distance from Leeming Hall has helped, too. Have I told you how grateful I am, Nicholas, for taking us in? No one would have criticized you had you set up a house for us with a chaperone somewhere.”
Might she have preferred it? He shot her a swift look, wondering what lay behind her comment. It was impossible to read her expression beneath the brim of her hat. He knew her to be a fierce mother hen concerning her brother and sister’s welfare.
His solicitor had suggested establishing the children in London with a suitable woman, perhaps
