Lord of Her Heart, a Regency Romance by Gail Eastwood

Author:Gail Eastwood
Format: epub

The problem was that more than five people were going on the trip to Abbottsdale.

As Tom’s day began he had been profoundly grateful for two things. One was that he had managed to drink half of an ale while actually in the taproom at the Four Feathers after he’d left Sally the previous afternoon. The second was that he had managed to sleep a little bit during the night, and he felt almost like a human being. He had dressed in his respectable London clothes, wearable again after being sent to Mrs. Meadows to launder. But walking down to the Four Feathers, which was the designated meeting place, he had encountered Cassie Tamworth and the curate, Mr. Pratt, also on their way there.

“Oh, Tom! Good day to you!” Cassie called, waving at him to join them. “Have you had occasion to meet Mr. Pratt as yet? I think you know he is my father’s curate. He will be joining us on the great shopping expedition to Abbottsdale—as are you, I was happy to learn.”

She truly did appear delighted, although why it should matter to her whether he came or not was beyond his ability to fathom.

“Mr. Pratt, please meet Mr. Hepston. I’m certain you must have heard how he has returned to us after fourteen years away.”

Pratt held out his hand with a smile that was at least polite. He appeared to be of a similar age to Tom and was also of a similar height. However, the fellow’s shoulders sloped, and his gentlemanly coat and waistcoat revealed a paunch that suggested a taste for high living or at least a healthy appetite. High living seemed unlikely on a curate’s salary. His hat was fashionably high-crowned but made of practical black felt that contrasted with the strands of blond hair that showed beneath it. His rather florid complexion gave the impression that he was flushed with excitement, although apparently that was not the case.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Hepston. As I hear it, you spent much of those years at sea with our Royal Navy. Congratulations.”

Tom wasn’t certain what the congratulations were for. His service? His survival? His removal? Or his success in finding a life outside of the village? The words were spoken with hardly an inflection or hint of emotion to give him a clue. He shook the hand extended to him, noting the grasp was not very firm. “Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you as well, Mr. Pratt.”

As they resumed walking down toward the inn, he began recalculating the allotment of space inside the Hammons’ traveling coach. Six people, not five, and that included Squire, who was a large man. As he pictured the coach interior, his heart began to pound. It would be uncomfortably crowded, especially for a journey lasting more than an hour. Too crowded for him. He would have to beg off.

He started to watch for Sally once they arrived in front of the inn. Only a minute or two elapsed before he saw her coming along the lane past the village green.

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