Free Come Be My Love by Patricia Watters Page A

hope you're not seeking other lodging because of my mother's comment the other night."
    Sarah glanced uncertainly at him. She couldn't even remember his mother's comment, so many things had happened since that night. "Oh, no," she replied, aware of their proximity, finding it necessary to walk uncomfortably close to Jon while negotiating the narrow pathway to the stables. "I assure you, it has nothing to do with your mother."
    Jon looked askance at her. "Then... me?"
    Sarah gave him a devious smile. "Why should I seek other lodging because of you? After all, you claim that in making things difficult for me, you're actually looking out for my best interest, my being a poor defenseless woman. The truth is, I'm seeking other lodging because I feel things could get a bit... cramped in a few days."
    Jon arched a brow. "Are you expecting more trunks?"
    Sarah touched her fingers to her lips to stifle a smile. "No," she said. "I don't mean things will get cramped for me, but rather, for you."
    Jon frowned. "Maybe you'd better expand on that. You've left me in the fog."
    Sarah realized she'd been baiting him, but he deserved whatever Mr. De Cosmos might write in his forthcoming editorial. However, she had no intention of giving Jon even the slightest hint of what was coming. Shrugging indifferently, she said, "Actually, what I meant is that once Mandi and I start unpacking the trunks with the bloomers and shirtwaisters, there will be garments spread all over the house." Switching subjects, she asked, "Have you any idea when the cottage will be available?"
    "Two or three days, maybe sooner," Jon replied. He guided her toward the stables where Peterson, the head groom and coachman, appeared from the darkened interior, leading a sorrel mare. The animal's head bobbed as it pranced along on white- stockinged feet.
    "She's a right lively one, m'um … loves a good run," Peterson said, leading the mare toward Sarah. "But if she knows ye're boss, she's as gentle as a lamb. Sure ye can handle ' er ?"
    "I'll look out for Miss Ashley and see that she has no problem with the mare," Jon said, taking the mare’s bridle.
    Sarah digested that statement. Well, she mused, Jonathan Cromwell would soon learn that not all women were helpless, hapless creatures, that there was at least one who was not in need of, nor desirous of, his male patronage. However, since he believed her to be helpless and hapless, that's what she'd give him... For the moment. "I'd appreciate that," she said, giving him a meek smile. "Horses can be so... unpredictable."
    "Don't let Peterson's comment about the mare frighten you," Jon said. “We would not put you on an unpredictable animal. But if she gets out of hand, I'll be right there."
    Sarah repressed a giggle. Jon's cavalier attitude was almost too much. She stroked the mare's smooth neck while admiring the animal's fine head and alert brown eyes, then she exhaled gently against the mare's flared nostrils, and the animal bobbed her head in response. Sarah propped her foot in the stirrup, and Jon placed his hands on her waist, and with a swish, raised her into the sidesaddle. "Thank you," she said, gathering the reins and positioning her leg around the leg horn. A gust of wind tugged at the hair creeping from her chignon and ruffled her skirt, sending it fluttering against the mare's withers. The mare began snorting and pawing the ground. "Oh, my," Sarah said, then gave a helpless little cry as the mare danced restlessly.
    "Peterson, hold her steady until I'm up," Jon snapped.
    "Yes, please do," Sarah said in a small voice, turning so Jon wouldn't see her grin.
    Jon swung into the saddle and moved his blood bay gelding forward, then leaned over and grasped the bridle of Sarah's mare to steady her. "We'll head out this road toward Cadboro Bay," he said, pointing. "The road's wide and well-graded so you should have no trouble. Peterson often exercises the horses at a full run. And where the trees are down, we'll leave the road