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beside the chestnut gelding. "You have
    it exactly right, Bess." She stuffed the little packets of herbs into the
    pockets of her habit.
    "Nonsense,”' Bess exclaimed. "I can't believe Lord Dorring is so muddle-brained
    as this. He knows you'll never get another offer this good if ye live to be a
    hundred."
    "I'm not so certain of that,” Sophy said dryly. "It depends, of course, on your
    definition of a good offer."
    Bess's gaze narrowed thoughtfully. "Child, are ye doin' this because yer afraid
    of the Earl? Is that what's wrong? I thought ye were too sensible to believe all
    the stories they tell down in the village."
    "I do not believe them all," Sophy said as she swung herself into the saddle.
    "Only about half. Does that console you, Bess?" Sophy adjusted the skirts of her
    habit under her legs. She rode astride, although it was not considered quite
    proper for a woman of her station to do so. In the country, however, people were
    more casual about such matters. In any event Sophy was convinced her modesty was
    well protected. With her habit carefully arranged this way only her tan
    half-boots showed beneath the skirts.
    Bess caught hold of the horse's bridle and peered up at Sophy. "Here now, girl.
    Ye don't truly believe that tale they tell about his lordship drownin' his first
    wife in Ravenwood Pond, do ye?"
    Sophy sighed. "No, Bess, I do not." It would have been more accurate to say she
    did not want to believe it.
    "Thank the lord, although it be God's truth there ain't none around here who'd
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    have blamed the man if he had killed her," Bess admitted.
    "True enough, Bess."
    "Then what's all this nonsense about ye refusin' his lordship's offer? I don't
    care for the look in yer eyes, child. I've seen it before and it don't bode
    well. What are ye up to now?"
    "Now? Why, now I am going to ride old Dancer here back to Chesley Court and then
    I am going to set about storing these herbs you have so kindly given me.
    Grandfather's gout is acting up again and I have run out of his favorite
    decoction."
    "Sophy, darlin', are ye truly goin' to refuse the Earl?"
    "No," Sophy said honestly. "So you need not look so horrified. In the end, if he
    persists, he shall have me. But it will be on my terms."
    Bess's eyes widened. "Ah, now I believe I take yer meanin'. Ye've been readin'
    those books on the rights o' women again, haven't ye? Don't be a fool, child.
    Take some advice from an old woman. Don't be about playin' any of yer games with
    Ravenwood. He's not likely to indulge them. Ye might be able to lead Lord
    Dorring around by a piece of string, but the Earl's a different sort o' man,
    altogether."
    "I agree with you on that point, Bess. The Earl is a vastly different sort of
    man than Grandfather. But try not to worry about me. I know what I am doing."
    Sophy collected the reins and gave Dancer a nudge with her heel.
    "Nay, child, I'm not so sure o' that, ' Bess called after her. "Ye don't tease
    the devil and expect to come away unharmed."
    "I thought you said Ravenwood was not a devil," Sophy retorted over her shoulder
    as Dancer broke into a lumbering trot.
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    She waved at Bess as the horse headed into a stand of trees. There was no need
    to guide Dancer back toward Chesley Court. He had made the trip so often during
    the past few years that he knew the route over Ravenwood lands by heart.
    Sophy let the reins rest lightly on Dancer's neck as she considered the scene
    she would undoubtedly discover when she got back to Chesley Court.
    Her grandparents would be distraught, of course. Lady Dorring had taken to her
    bed this morning, an array of fortifying salts and tonics arranged nearby. Lord
    Dorring, who had been left to face Ravenwood alone, would probably be consoling
    himself with a bottle of claret by now. The small house staff would be quietly
    morose. A