Free Elisabeth Fairchild by The Love Knot

realize he existed.
    Aurora sighed. “I shall be at the archery range beside the Greek temple, if you should need me.”
    “Yes,” he said absently.
    She turned in the doorway to look back at the brother she thought of as a three-legged cat. Was her pursuit of Lord Walsh equally pitiable? Rue still gazed distractedly at the remotest of possibilities, a wounded mouser who dreamed of downing a swan. Aurora wondered how long he would stand, tail twitching, transfixed.
     
    Half an hour later, Aurora strode into the stable yard of the remarkable barn where Thomas Coke housed his horses and prize cattle, her manner subdued. No such magnificent, Palladian style housing for her stock. It took an investment of money, time and the belief that both were well spent to erect such splendid quarters for animals. Even the pens for the sheep scheduled for shearing were remarkable for their trim neatness, their roomy, well-planned layout. Aurora had not the money for such extravagant accommodations. Her brothers saw no value in such things. All save Rupert. What money came into their hands was wasted on women, wine and cards. Rupert gave her a share of his stipend, for the upkeep of the land and livestock that brought in the monies to begin with, but it was not enough, even combined with her own meager share.
    So blighted was Aurora’s mood by such thoughts, that she did not pay attention to her surroundings as she stepped from morning brightness into the stable’s twilight. Her eyes, not yet adjusted to the change, went temporarily blind and so she plowed, quite unaware, into Lord Walsh, who was exiting the door even as she entered.
    His hand shot out to catch her by the shoulder. “Miss Ramsay. We meet again.”
    Aurora laughed, completely flustered by the unexpected encounter. He was a bull, she decided, and she was an indifferent toreador trying to bring him down. “So sorry,” she apologized. “I did not see you.”
    “No harm done,” he said with jovial sarcasm. “This time we did not land in a heap on the ground.”
    She blushed.
    He saved her from the struggle of responding. “A fine morning,” he said conversationally. “You mean to ride?”
    “Yes.” Tongue-tied, she could think of no more response than that.
    “I have just been for a gallop myself.” He stepped back from the door that she might pass. “Enjoy!”
    It was a dismissal. Aurora acknowledged it with a nod and passed him with the thought plaguing her that she would like to have said something more substantive, more scintillating, more self-assured. She could not always answer the man in monosyllables and expect him to fall on his knee to propose!
    Her already disheartened mood was even more downcast as she made her way to the area within the stables where she was to meet Miles Fletcher.
    In direct contradiction to her mood, Fletcher was whistling a happy tune when she found him. He stopped when she appeared and directed his sparkling gill flower blue gaze in her direction along with a sunny smile.
    “Good morning. My sister has gone on ahead,” he fairly chirped. “Everything is arranged. Are you ready to set off?”
    Fortunately, their saddled mounts were led out at that moment. Aurora was not required to respond to this allo cheerful greeting. Her lack of smiles and enthusiasm could not quench Miles Fletcher’s sunny mood one jot. He made merry remark on the beauty of a bird’s song and the quality of the morning air. He demonstrated he came prepared. Longbows had been obtained from Coke’s store of equipment and provisions arranged in baskets on each side of his horse.
    “Sustenance,” he said, when she raised her brows.
    She laughed, unexpectedly lifted from the valley of her unhappy thoughts. With so many baskets to accommodate his tastes, this gentleman’s queer idea of sustenance far exceeded hers.
    Swinging onto the horse that stood saddled and waiting, she put heels to the animal. “Come then,” she called out as the gelding bolted