Free More Than a Stranger: A Sealed With a Kiss Novel by Erin Knightley Page B

intimates, locals, and Hertford staff are involved.”
    Benedict’s plans to avoid talking to Evie went up in a puff of smoke as he looked to her in admiration. Memories of their plans to race when she visited him that last weekend at Eton lifted a corner of his lips. The chance to see her in her glory in person was too much to pass up. “You must be quite a remarkable horsewoman, Lady Evelyn.”
    Pride and pleasure lit her crystalline eyes, and he felt as though he had just won a prize. “Actually, Mr. Benedict, just this once I will flatter myself and say I am indeed a skilled rider.”
    Richard scoffed. “Skilled, maybe. Bordering on crazy, definitely.”
    Evie seemed to take no offense. “Oh, pray do not listen to the protestations of losers, Mr. Benedict. Richard is merely jealous of my aptitude and flair for riding. Sadly, the Moore legacy of fine equestrianism seems to have passed over my dear brother. But what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in charm. Is that not right, Richard?” Her expression bordered on wicked as she verbally sparred her brother.
    “Very funny, but you are ignoring the true issue of the matter.” Richard’s hands went to his hips as he turned again to Benedict. “She always manages to be at the front of the field, which is really quite annoying for us mortals. The real problem arises when she is first on the scene. If she is the first to approach the cornered fox, she clears the way for the thing to escape while heeling the dogs. She claims since she is the ‘victor,’ it is her prerogative to do as she wishes with the prize. It is a wonder we do not have foxes positively blanketing the countryside.”
    “Oh, that is just stuff and nonsense, as you well know,” she countered. “First of all, I am not always at the front of the field; I am merely always ahead of you . Second, I call the dogs off only when the fox has gone to ground. It is not as if it happens often. And really, it is no fun to stand around while some poor terrier spends hours trying to dig the pitiable thing out. Call it a game of tag, if you will. Third, if you can look that poor, adorable creature in the eye and kill it, by all means, go right ahead.” She put her finger to her lips. “Of course, you do need to get to the fox first. . . . Well, that is a problem, is it not?” She laughed merrily at Richard’s comically sour expression.
    “If it makes you feel any better,” she said, apparently taking pity on her brother, “I suspect we will be drag hunting this time around. No foxes chased; therefore no foxes pardoned. It is the perfect opportunity to try out the hunter without involving dozens of people, and we can all be back in time for tea.”
    “Well, fox or no, Benedict will have the opportunity to witness the whole farce for himself, I am sure. Be nice; it is not polite to trump one’s guests, after all.” Richard smiled winningly to the room at large.
    Lord Granville merely shook his head at his two older children’s exchange. “Have no fear, Mr. Benedict. I am sure a pleasant day will be had by all.”
    The butler, dressed impeccably with every sparse hair on his head in place, came in at that moment and announced dinner. The group shuffled to relocate to the dining room. Each of the twins vied for the opportunity to be escorted by Benedict, then appeared crestfallen upon realizing the honor would go to Beatrice.
    As he offered her his arm, she looked up to him with sly eyes. “You’ve made my sister very happy, Mister Benedict.”
    He clenched his jaw for a second before responding. Dipping his head closer to hers, he said in a low voice, “It is all I’ve ever wanted to do, Lady Beatrice.”
    Her eyes widened the smallest amount. She was quiet for a moment as they entered the long dining room. Then she leaned toward him slightly and whispered, “I remember how happy she used to be when the post came.”
    “Oh?”
    “And how melancholy she was when it stopped.”
    As they