Rexanne Becnel Read Free Page A

sojourn to Yorkshire,” she said. “I know why you are going. But why is Archie, Earl of Holdsworth, going? Aren’t his estates in Suffolk?”
    “Yes, but there is a horse race in Doncaster, Wednesday next, with a rather large purse, and a horse auction. All the sporting crowd attends, for it’s quite the thing, and Lord Holdsworth is said to keep a very fine stable.”
    Olivia toyed with a stray curl as she considered. She, too, would love to get away from town, for she’d had quite enough of the season, and last night’s ball had been absolutely the limit. But a week was not enough. She wanted to return to their country residence, only she knew her mother would never agree, especially if the Earl of Holdsworth remained in London.
    Then from out of nowhere came inspiration. “Mother,” she began. “Doesn’t the shooting season for grouse begin in Scotland soon?”
    “In Scotland? Yes, I believe so. Then after that there’s the partridge season. Why do you ask—Oh!” Augusta looked at her, and Olivia fancied she could see the wheels turning in her pretty head. “The shooting season in Scotland,” Augusta repeated. Then her fair face lit up. “Men do so love to shoot and tramp about in the woods. You’re thinking about Byrde Manor, aren’t you? We could host a country house party there. You’ve been wanting to go up to Byrde Manor these past several years anyway, haven’t you?”
    “And you’ve always found a reason to deter me.”
    “Oh, the countryside is so boring. Besides—well, never mind all that. Do you think Archie—Lord Holdsworth—would accept our invitation?”
    “Unless he has a grousing club of his own, I don’t see why not. We could get up a small party. I’m certain James would agree to play host. So what do you say, Mother? Shall we devise a guest list for a country house party? It would suit your purposes as well as mine.”
    “And what are your purposes?”

    “I am weary of all this matchmaking you do on my behalf. A few months of country life would do me a world of good.”
    “But you have to find a husband, Olivia. You know you do.”
    “And I intend to. But I’ve met no one this year who interests me, nor am I likely to. Besides, if you want to spend time with your Archie and soften Sarah toward him, this is a perfect opportunity.”
    Olivia could see the tug of war in her mother’s face. Though Augusta worried about her eldest daughter’s marital status, it seemed she worried more about her own. Augusta pursed her lips. “I know precisely what you are doing, Olivia. You’re trying to put off any decision on your own marriage.” Then she laughed, as delighted and eager as a child. “Let’s do it. Let’s invite Archie and whomever else he likes. We can have picnics and long walks, and entertain ourselves with music and cards and charades in the evenings. And maybe we might even find a wild Scotsman for you, since English gentlemen do not seem to suit.”
    Olivia gave her mother an even stare. “Someone like my father?”
    Augusta sobered at once and wove her fingers together. “Your father may have had his faults, Olivia. But he was not a bad man, no matter what tales Mrs. McCaffery tells you.”
    Olivia chose not to enter into that debate. “In truth, I hardly remember him.” But what little she did remember supported everything Mrs. McCaffery had let slip. Still, although she took no comfort from remembering her father, memories of her childhood home always brought her a sense of peace. Just the thought of spending autumn in the wild Cheviot hills around Byrde Manor filled her now with a nameless longing.
    She’d been back only once since her father’s death. Five years ago her stepfather, dear Humphrey, had insisted over Augusta’s objections, that Olivia reacquaint herself with the people of the country estate her father had left to her in trust. Since then she’d struck up a regular correspondence with the steward, old Mr. Hamilton. The estate