Kestrel by Hannah Meredith

Author:Hannah Meredith [Meredith, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Singing Spring Press
Published: 2013-07-24T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Winter, 1814

The cold had long ago seeped through the layers of clothes that wrapped his body, and his gloved hands felt numb and unresponsive, but Joshua was warmed by a feeling of accomplishment. It was, nonetheless, good to be home. He brought Not to a stop at the stable door, and Toby, the boy who had initially greeted him, came scuttling out into the blustery day.

“Oh, good, you got her,” the boy said, taking the lead rope Joshua extended and guiding the pretty bay pony into the open stable door.

Joshua swung stiffly from the saddle and followed Toby into the relative warmth of the barn. “Mr. Daniels was right to suggest Hargrove’s farm, and this mare in particular. She has both a lovely temperament and a smooth gait. Do you think Quin will like her?”

“He’d have to be crazy not to,” Toby said, envy plain on his face.

Joshua had been giving Quin riding lessons on an old carriage horse, the Harkley stables containing no other animal remotely suitable for a novice six-year-old. While docile, the horse was hard-mouthed and stubborn and placed Quin entirely too far from the ground for Diana’s comfort. It was obvious a different mount was needed. His search for just the right pony had taken him longer than he’d anticipated, but he was confident that he’d found the right animal.

“What’s her name?” the boy asked.

“Caprice.”

Joshua saw Toby mouth the name and frown. “I’ll call her Cappy then.”

“Good choice.” Joshua busied himself with removing Not’s tack, wondering how a plain brute like Not had ended up being called Lover’s Knot and a graceful beauty like Caprice was christened Cappy. Life was filled with inconsistencies that made no sense.

“Excuse me,” said an unknown voice. “Is this estate Harkley?”

The open barn door framed a mounted man. A soldier, by the look of him, although his uniform was hidden by his greatcoat and scarf. Joshua assumed he was one of the returning soldiers who found their way to the house because of the pot by the gatepost. Joshua had been surprised at how often these men arrived, always in need of food and shelter. England would soon be awash with ex-military men. But most new arrivals had no idea of the name of the estate.

“You’re correct,” he said. “This is Harkley and I’m the owner, Lord Trent. How may I help you?”

The man dismounted and moved forward. In the gray light of a winter’s afternoon, he looked totally average, with a square face and light brown hair. “I’m Major Harold Cleese.”

Joshua stilled. Major Cleese? Could this be Amanda’s Major Cleese? He looked behind the man to see if a woman accompanied him, but there was no one else. Thank the Lord. He and Diana had been getting along so well—she was almost nightly in his bed, a wonder he didn’t want to disturb—and the arrival of his former mistress would definitely have led to a disturbance.

“What may I do for you, Major?” Joshua asked, but he didn’t move forward to greet the other man.

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