Free What the Duke Doesn't Know by Jane Ashford

ache.
    â€œWell, this is the finest time of year,” Ariel said. “If you’d come in November, you’d have had more than your fill of rain.”
    Ariel led her beyond the college buildings to a square filled with market stalls and bustling with townsfolk examining the wares. They joined the streams of shoppers and strolled up one row and down another, surrounded by color, scent, and the din of sharp bargaining. “There are so many things in England,” Kawena commented.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Ariel asked.
    Kawena gestured at the stalls. “Ribbons and thimbles and teapots and tools and furniture. All these ‘made’ things. Everywhere.”
    Ariel looked around as if noticing the merchandise in a new way. “You aren’t used to so many.”
    â€œNo.” She smiled. “There wouldn’t be room for all this at home. You English are so busy—inventing and building and making. I used to be amazed at all the cargos filling ships’ holds, but they were nothing to this.”
    â€œYou say ‘you English,’” her hostess replied. “But you’re part English.”
    â€œBy blood, I am,” Kawena agreed. “But by feeling…” She shook her head. “Perhaps if I’d visited as a child, it would be different.”
    â€œMany Englishmen who are posted abroad send their children back here to school. So they’ll know the country.”
    â€œI can see why they would.”
    â€œDoes it make you sad?” Ariel asked, gazing at her from under the brim of her bonnet.
    Kawena thought about it. She was certainly sad about her father’s death, and her connection to this country had always been through him. But mostly she was thoughtful. Her long journey had shown her so many fascinating things and ideas. “No,” she said. “It’s an adventure, seeing a new part of the world.”
    â€œI can well imagine.”
    Ariel bought a few small things, useful and frivolous. They shared a small apple pie still warm from the oven and stopped to watch a pair of jugglers keep a dizzying array of objects in the air. The sun was well past the zenith when they started back to the house.
    â€œThis was very agreeable,” said Kawena as they walked. “Thank you.”
    â€œNo need for thanks,” her hostess replied. “It was a pleasure to have a friend along.”
    In perfect harmony with each other, they left the streets of Oxford behind and entered the lane that led to the house. Halfway there, Kawena’s eye was caught by movement on the left, and she turned to see a dappled gray horse running across the field. The grace of its gait stopped her in her tracks. “Oh, it looks like it’s floating over the grass!”
    Ariel paused as well. “She’s lovely, isn’t she? She’s our neighbor Mr. Fletcher’s pride and joy.”
    The horse came closer. Kawena stepped toward the fence, entranced by the creature’s beauty. “We have no horses at home. I’d seen pictures, but it’s only since I’ve been here that I’ve been close to them. It’s strange that so large an animal can be not at all frightening.”
    The gray approached the fence. She seemed to examine Kawena with one liquid brown eye.
    â€œShe likes you,” Ariel said. “She’s never come so close for me.”
    â€œIs it all right to touch…?”
    â€œShe’s quite gentle, I think.”
    Kawena stepped nearer and set a hand on the horse’s forehead. Her caress was accepted with regal complacence.
    â€œIt’s too bad we don’t have an apple for her,” Ariel remarked.
    â€œThey like apples?”
    â€œVery much.”
    Moved by a sudden whim, the horse tossed her head and trotted off. Kawena watched her go with regret and admiration. “Do you ride horses?” she asked Ariel as they resumed their walk.
    â€œI can,” was the reply.