The Heiress's Homecoming. Regina Scott

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      Together they set off across the pastures toward Kendrick Hall. The air was still cool so close to the mountains, scented with damp earth and growing things. London never smelled this good. No country estate she’d visited matched the crisp scent either. She found herself drawing it in. It smelled like home.

      “You’re certain you’re fine,” he asked again, as if noticing her deep breaths.

      Samantha felt herself coloring. “I’ve taken a fall or two in my time, sir. There’s no need to fuss over me.”

      Immediately she regretted the tartness of her words, but he merely smiled. “Habit. It seems I’ve grown a bit too much into the fatherly role.”

      Just as Jamie was outgrowing it, she realized. She remembered how she’d had to accustom herself to her three guardians when her cousins had first arrived at Dallsten Manor on her father’s death. Lord Everard had kept his nephews in the dark about his wife and daughter. Certainly Samantha had never dreamed she had a family until her father had died and his will demanded that she work with her cousins to save her inheritance and theirs.

      The will had required her to be presented to the queen, to be welcomed in all the homes who had refused admittance to her scandalous father and to garner an offer of marriage from three eligible gentlemen. One had been from her old friend Toby Giles, one from her cousin Vaughn and one from the brother of the man who rode beside her. Only one requirement remained, and she knew she would never fulfill it now.

      “Still, there’s no need to apologize,” she told him as they crossed the stream, the horses’ hooves splashing in the sparkling mountain waters. “You were only trying to protect Jamie. I used to do the same thing when we were younger.”

      He held the reins lightly, but his gaze flickered over her. “Did you?”

      Could he not see her in that role? “Certainly. He was so cute when he was little, so earnest.” She smiled, remembering. “He would do anything I suggested. I had to be very careful, I promise you.”

      He seemed to sit taller in the saddle. “And now you’ve returned,” he said, and something simmered in his warm voice. “But not to stay, it seems.”

      The light of day made this conversation no easier than it had been last night. She said the lines she’d rehearsed. “I thought it was time I took a more active role in the summer party. It’s a family tradition, and it’s been years since I even attended.”

      “So I understand. Eight, isn’t it?”

      Did he think to upbraid her? She offered him a smile and said sweetly, “Less than the nine or more years you were away.”

      He grimaced, a quirk of his gentle mouth that reminded her of Jamie. “Your point. I should be the last one to question why someone would want to leave Evendale.”

      Or return. She knew why he’d come back, and though she was glad Jamie had been reunited with his father, the knowledge of the part she’d played was a weight on her heart.

      “And how go plans for the big event?” he asked as if realizing she was too quiet. Her—quiet! How her cousins would laugh if they knew. She certainly had no trouble talking to anyone else, and she very much feared it wasn’t her guilt that was keeping her tongue-tied.

      She could see Kendrick Hall rising ahead of them and directed Blackie to stop.

      “Well enough,” she answered him as he pulled his horse up beside hers. “There will be a puppet show, a whirligig and more pies than anyone should safely eat.”

      “And dancing in the evening?”

      She blushed at his tone and wasn’t sure why. “Certainly, my lord. That is tradition, too.”

      “And woe betide us for changing tradition,” he said with a chuckle. “As you did not favor me with a dance last night, I hope you’ll save one for me at the party.”

      A dance? With him? Ever since her father had instituted the annual summer party, she’d dreamed of dancing. When she’d left for London, she had been too young, in her governess’s eyes, to participate. The party had been held the past eight years without her as she’d attended one house party after another, from Cornwall in the south to Carlisle in the north, all to fulfill the last requirement of her father’s will. She’d had to delegate the party to her housekeeper and Mrs. Dallsten Walcott.

      Now at last and possibly for the last, Samantha was the hostess.

      “I will certainly see if I can find time for a dance,” she promised. “But I expect to be very busy, my lord.”

      He barked a laugh. “Well, that’s a leveler. I thought all young ladies wished to dance with eligible earls.”

      Did he consider himself eligible, then? She thought every lady within miles must be setting her cap at him. Funny. Given his history she’d somehow considered him immune.

      “I suppose they do,” she acknowledged. “But I no longer need to attach eligible gentlemen.”

      “Then you have an understanding,” he said, and once again she was all too aware of his green gaze as he studied her. She had an understanding all right, but not of the sort he meant. She had come to the realization that marriage was not for her.

      “Suffice it to say that I will not be marrying anytime soon,” she replied. “Thank you for your company, my lord. I should return home.”

      He looked ready to protest, eyes narrowed, head high. Still he nodded a farewell, and she turned the horse. She tried to look as calm, but she couldn’t keep herself from looking back. Once more he was watching her leave, yet this time the determination on his face told her that he intended to learn her secrets, whether she wished it or not.

      Chapter Four

      Unfortunately the Earl of Kendrick wasn’t the only person intent on discovering more about Samantha’s personal affairs. She had barely reached Dallsten Manor and was heading for her room to change out of her mud-encrusted riding habit when Mrs. Dallsten Walcott met her at the foot of the main stair.

      The house was much improved since she’d left, thanks to the vision of her cousin Jerome and judicious use of funds from her inheritance. Jerome had a reason to want to preserve the manor. He had fallen in love here with Mrs. Dallsten Walcott’s daughter, Samantha’s former governess, Adele. And Adele had been raised in the house, which had belonged to her family before hard times had forced them to sell to Samantha’s father. So it was no wonder Jerome and Adele shared Samantha’s fondness for the place.

      In the past eight years the Everards had rebuilt the crumbling pele tower that stood at the north corner and added fine wood paneling to the lower half of many of the walls. They’d also augmented the formerly spartan staff with footmen, gardeners and maids of every variety.

      Now their work was evident, for every wood surface gleamed, from the parquet floor to the banister on the elegant stair. Even the ancient wall tapestry of knights attacking a stag had been cleaned, the colors once more proud.

      But never as proud as the lady standing sternly on the stair.

      “Why am I not informed of your goings out?” Mrs. Dallsten Walcott demanded, face nearly as СКАЧАТЬ