Lord Harry's Daughter Read Free

her with an intensity that was almost palpable, as though the man were trying to read her mind and her soul as well as remember her face.
    Slowly Sophia gathered her things and put them in a satchel. She would have to ask her stepfather's batman about the major. Speen knew everything there was to know about everyone, or if he didn't, he could be counted on to find out, though it might be rather difficult with no name to go by. She could hardly expect Speen to know or discover anything about a man whose only definitive characteristics were that he rode like the devil, intruded into people's private moments, and analyzed their paintings with a skill and sensitivity beyond the grasp of almost anyone she had ever known.
    Sophia thought back over their encounter, trying to recall other details that might identify this particular officer. He had been mapping the fortifications at San Sebastian, so it was clear that he was someone important enough to be trusted with a reconnaissance mission, which only narrowed the field to a choice of a hundred or so. And what reason was she going to offer Speen, who would naturally be suspicious, of her sudden interest in a man whose name she did not even know?
    “The senhorita is ready to go now?” Luis sprang to his feet to take Sophia's satchel and help her onto Atalanta's back. The bay mare pricked up her ears and snorted in eagerness to gallop after her afternoon of inactivity. Sophia trotted her through the tall grass to the rough road down which the major had disappeared. “Now, my girl, let us show anyone who cares to see us that the major and his horse are not the only ones who can raise a cloud of dust.” She touched the horse's flank with her heels and they flew off down the road with Luis following at a more rational pace.
    “The senhorita will get herself killed one day riding like that. It is not normal. If the Good Lord had wanted man to fly he would have given him wings instead of legs,” the servant muttered to himself as, trying to keep his mistress in sight, he urged his own mount to greater speed.
    Oblivious to Luis's efforts to keep up with her, Sophia leaned over Atalanta's neck, glorying in the speed and the sense of freedom she always felt with the wind in her hair.
    Now that the sun was setting she had removed her bonnet, tying its ribbons securely around her neck so that it bounced on her back as she rode, adding to the sensation of having cast off all restraints, for the moment at least. Once they came in sight of the pickets she would slow to a more sedate trot, replace the bonnet on her head, and conduct herself like a properly brought-up young lady and the stepdaughter of General Sir Thornton Curtis, but for now, she wanted to stretch her cramped muscles and loosen up after the hours of concentration in front of the easel. She wanted to revel in the wind and the sky and become part of the restless energy she had been trying to capture in her picture.
    The road widened and its surface became somewhat smoother. Up ahead Sophia caught sight of an oxcart, laden with provisions, lumbering toward Lesaca. Pulling on the reins, she halted Atalanta, adjusted her bonnet, and then urged her into a ladylike trot. Glancing behind her, she could just make out the dark speck that was Luis. Poor Luis. Sophia grinned. She knew she was a constant trial to him, and she did feel sorry for the worry he suffered. She had told him times out of mind that he had no cause for concern, for she had practically been born on the back of a horse.
    One of the few times that Lord Harry Featherstonaugh had paid attention to his infant daughter was the day when in a fit of desperation, he had taken her—a screaming, squalling bundle that refused to sleep—and trotted off down a country road so that her mother could get some rest. The motion of the horse had lulled Sophia into slumber almost immediately and won for her her father's respect, if not his continued attention.
    After that, whenever