[Previously: the Earl has been called away to London just as he and Lavinia were about to take their usual morning ride. He orders Cedric to take her instead.]

Cedric wasn't sure whether to be pleased or panicked about this unlooked-for opportunity. He'd wanted to spend more time with Lavinia ever since the first time he'd met her. Their one short dance together had only increased that desire. But current circumstances, as Jacques had pointed out, made that unwise.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Lavinia. No! What he'd told Jacques in the tunnel the previous evening had been true--he believed her to be not only unaware of, but also completely innocent of, any involvement in Lucius' schemes. This growing certainty made it that much harder to maintain his pretence of the industrious, but subservient and awkward Cedric when he was with her. He'd found himself slipping back into his true character whenever he was in her company, which meant there was a possibility that she might, because she couldn't know what a menace his uncle was, endanger them if she noticed something and then inadvertently let it slip in Lucius' presence.

Last evening, when Cedric had asked to be granted another dance with her sometime in the future and had given in to the impulse to kiss her hand he'd seen, behind the delight and the relief, also surprise and speculation in her eyes. He knew he wasn't acting as she expected Cedric to act, but it was almost impossible to do otherwise. Even if he hadn't acknowledged them to her at the time, he'd noted the worried glances she'd sent his way throughout the evening, and he'd felt compelled to reassure her. He loved, and therefore trusted her, and to have to deceive her was nearly insupportable ... even for a just cause, as he knew his to be.

In some ways it might be easier to do as Jacques had suggested, and stay away from her as much as possible, until he could get this business about his uncle taken care of, but--! Not to see her, or hear her voice! His heart grew heavy at the mere thought of it. He would, he reminded himself sternly, just have to be more careful when he was around her, that's all.

So, it was with mixed feelings that he approached her now, still leading his horse. He bowed, wished her a good morning, and asked her where she would prefer to ride.

"Merci, monsieur. I should enjoy a ride on such a beautiful morning, but not if I am discommoding you."

"Not at all, mademoiselle. I am at your service, always."

At his words she again felt that unconscious pull, and wondered that he could have that effect upon her. He broke in on her thoughts, however, begging her pardon, and asking permission to return something to his office before they set off.

She noticed for the first time that his satchel was strapped to the saddle and realised he must have been working.

"This ride, it will interrupt your work, n'est-ce pas? Why cannot I accompany you to wherever you are going? We will be--how does it go--throwing two stones at the same bird, yes?"

He laughed, in spite of his concerns, amused at her version of that old adage but shook his head, saying that his uncle would not like to have his orders disobeyed. "He bid me take you riding, and told me my work should be done another time."

Now Lavinia felt she knew the reason for the earlier tension between Cedric and his uncle! Cedric was trying to be conscientious about his work and Lucius had autocratically ordered him to take her riding instead. "Well, monsieur, the Earl is not mon oncle, and I say I wish to ride with you as you do your work. D'ailleurs," she added, "if I say I want to ride with you, and you take me, then you are only following orders, oui?"

An appreciative grin spread across his face. It was impossible not to respond to her--his heart was too light when he was near her. "Yes, mademoiselle," he replied, his tone doubtful, but amused. "I guess I would be."

"Bon," she responded with a smile, determined to get her own way. "As you may know, my father inherited our estate, and I became la gerante for it. It was work I enjoyed very much. I have asked your uncle questions when we ride together, but there is much about the land or the crops or the animals that he could not tell me."

He appeared to be giving grave consideration to her request, but there was a twinkle in his eye, so she knew she'd won.

"Very well, Mademoiselle Lavinia, it shall be as you wish. I had planned to visit the cottages at the end of Rose Lane this morning, to check on the progress of the new roofs. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Parfaitement, monsieur."


*

It was noticeable that the further they rode from Kentham House, the more relaxed Cedric became. He spoke of the land and its people as though he loved them; a feeling that was reciprocated, apparently, since everyone they met had a smile or a friendly greeting for him and his companion. Lavinia couldn't help but contrast this ride to the ones taken in the Earl's company, when the common folk had not ventured to do more than curtsey or touch their forelocks.

It was intriguing to see these various sides to Cedric's personality emerging, to compare them against those of other men she'd known, and to speculate how much else there might yet be to discover about him. Ever since she'd met him, she'd had to continually reassess her opinion of him, and she found that fascinating. The Earl was all too willing to talk about himself, but Cedric had to be drawn out. He'd spoken readily enough about the estate or his management of it but, if she tried to steer the conversation around to more personal matters, he would politely turn the topic away from himself.

The first time she was able to get him to drop his guard was when she complimented him on his horsemanship, and on his horse; a beautiful thoroughbred chestnut. She was frankly surprised, although she didn't say as much, that Cedric owned such a fine animal, because she hadn't seen anything that would lead one to believe he could afford to own a horse like that.

Cedric leant down to pat the animal's glossy neck, affection and pride plain on his face. "He was a gift from my grandfather. One of the last things he gave me before he died."

Curious about his past, especially since seeing that painting in the gallery, she led Cedric on to talk about his grandfather, and in this way she was able to learn something of his childhood and young adulthood. In amongst all the reminiscences of his life at Kentham, Lucius' name was conspicuous by its absence. Cedric talked glowingly of his grandfather, reticently of his parents and vaguely of another uncle by the name of John, who had died of wounds received in the Battle of Yorktown in 1781, but there were no memories voiced of his Uncle Lucius.

She didn't question it, however, preferring not to interject a topic that would surely cause Cedric to stop talking. It gave her to think, though. Perhaps the reason Lucius had been so abrupt about his younger brother's death was not due to grief after all?