Joan Wolf Read Online Free Page B

and a half we were cantering easily. By the time we reached the point where I could pick up the path that would take me home, Elf was trotting.
    The sky had turned a deep cobalt, with a few high white clouds sailing with infinite grace across an endless expanse of blue. I pulled Elf up and together we looked out across the small and sunny valley that was our home.
    Weston Hall and Park occupied almost all of the eastern part of the valley. I could see the great stone house quite clearly, as well as the stables, the horse pastures, and the lake.
    I could even make out the fishing pavilion on the lakeshore and the icehouse as well.
    The village of Weston lay to the west of the park. From my vantage point on the Downs it looked like a mere cluster of trees and houses amid the spreading farmland. The church lay on the outskirts of the village, and its spire jutted up toward the blue heavens with graceful authority.
    To the north of the village, nestled right up against the Downs, lay the second most import ant house in the neighborhood: Stanhope Manor, the home of Sir Matthew. I could see the beginning of the park, but the house itself was hidden from my view.
    The rest of the valley comprised rich farmland, most of which was owned by the earl of Weston and leased out to tenants. I could not see beyond the ridge that formed the southern wall of the valley, but I knew that on the far side of that steep, wooded hillside the land sloped away for several miles before it reached the Channel and the small port town of West Haven. It was this ridge of land that sheltered the valley from the Channel winds and made it one of the most clement places in all of England.
    After a few minutes, I sent Elf forward and we made our way downhill over the turf until we reached the dirt path that would take us back to Weston Park.
     

Chapter Three
     
    When I reached home, Hodges, ourbutler, met me at the door to inform me that Gerald’s cousin, Jack Grandville, had come to visit. Hodges had put him in the library.
    “He came with a portmanteau, my lady, but I have not yet sent his bag upstairs.” Hodges had a great beak of a nose, which had fascinated me ever since I was a child. It was a perfect indicator of his moods, and at the present moment it was quivering with indignation.
    Jack had been visiting Weston for as long as I could remember. He was the only son of Gerald’s father’s only brother, and as such, he stood next in line after Giles and Stephen to inherit the earldom. As the son of a younger son, Jack was chronically short of money, and he had long made a habit of coming to stay at Weston when he needed to live cheaply for a while. I didn’t understand Hodges’s sudden disapproval.
    “Why haven’t you sent his bag upstairs, Hodges?” I inquired as I stripped off my gloves.
    “He is an unmarried gentleman, and he should not be staying in the house with you while you are alone, Miss Annabelle,” Hodges said. His slip into the old childhood name was the measure of his distress.
    “Nonsense,” I said. “Mr. Jack is family.”
    The beak veritably quaked with outrage. “It isn’t proper, Mi... my lady. If he stays here, there will be talk.”
    As I regarded Hodges’s nose, it occurred to me that I did not particularly want Jack underfoot from morning until night. I slapped my gloves thoughtfully against my riding skirt, then said, “I suppose he could stay with Mr. Adam.”
    The beak stopped quivering. Hodges smiled and said, “I will have Mr. Jack’s portmanteau sent to the Dower House immediately, my lady.”
    “You had better check with Mrs. Grandville first,” I warned.
    “Of course, my lady.”
    I tossed my gloves onto a delicate Louis XIV table and said, “Have some lemonade sent to the library, Hodges, will you? I am rather thirsty from my ride.”
    He was as pleasant as he could be now that he had gotten his way. “Of course, my lady.” He gave me a benign smile. “It is good to see you with some color in