“Are you in the habit of lying to your friend?”
Because he asked in a tone that was academic rather than accusatory, Evie found it difficult to take offense. As she found it even more difficult to actually answer the question, she adopted a curious tone of her own instead.
“Are you in the habit of passing judgment?”
“No.” He smiled oddly, as if laughing at himself. “It’s an entirely new experience for me.”
“Well, being a pawn in someone else’s game is a new experience for me.” She fiddled a little with the reins. “Divulging all to Mrs. Summers would only serve to upset her. She’d be horrified to learn their ruse put me in any real danger.”
“You’d lie to spare her feelings, then?”
“You do sound unconvinced,” she muttered.
“I am.”
“I assure you, I am quite willing to engage in some minor dissembling in order to avoid discomforting Mrs. Summers.”
He said nothing for several long seconds, which was ample time for her conscience to weigh on her. In a bid to relieve it, she lifted her arm as if to rub at her cheek and mumbled into her hand.
“And to avoid the certainty of a lecture.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Nothing,” she chirped. She’d said it, hadn’t she? No need to repeat herself.
“Something about a lecture?”
Damn it, the man’s hearing was too good by half. Resigned, she slumped in the saddle. “Mrs. Summers has a tendency to lecture.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No, but there will have been something I could have done better or something I can learn from in the experience or something I should think upon.” The possibilities were limitless. “It would be a worrier’s lecture.”
“I see. Isn’t your acquaintance with Mrs. Summers relatively new?”
It was. She’d met Mrs. Summers only two years ago, when she’d become friends with Sophie Everton, now the Duchess of Rockeforte. But the older woman had become rather like an honorary aunt as quickly as Sophie had become an honorary sister. Evie wasn’t certain McAlistair would understand such a rapid attachment, so she merely shrugged and said, “It’s the governess in her. I don’t think she can help it.”
Seventeen
Evie’s first impression of Mr. Hunter’s cottage was that it was no cottage at all. Two stories and dormered attic of stone and wood sat in a field not a hundred yards from the shore. It was much smaller than Haldon Hall, certainly, and gave the appearance of being taller than it was wide, but Evie suspected it held at least a half dozen bedchambers, with more room for staff in the attic. Though it was not what she had expected, it had a sturdy, substantial look that was both reassuring and, in its own way, rather charming.
They rode up to the front of the building just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Evie dismounted just in time to see Mrs. Summers dispense with decorum and come running out the door in a swirl of green skirts.
She was quick for a woman of advancing years. Evie had no more than righted her gown and handed the reins to McAlistair before finding herself enveloped in a surprisingly fierce hug. “You’re here,” Mrs. Summers cried. “I was so terribly worried, but here both of you are, safe and sound. Christian saw you coming and…why are you damp?” She drew back and held Evie at arm’s length. “Is it raining to the west?” She cast an accusing glare at McAlistair. “Did you make her ride in the rain?”
Evie laughed, shaking her head. “The skies were clear all day. It’s a very long story.”
“It is one I should like to hear.”
McAlistair mumbled a comment about seeing to the horses.
“You will find Mr. Hunter in the stables,” Mrs. Summers said to his retreating back. “And Christian in the kitchen.” She turned back to Evie. “You are well, aren’t you? And Mr. McAlistair?”
“Yes, perfectly. And you?”
“I am much better now that you have arrived.” She sighed happily and patted Evie’s cheek. “You must be quite done in.”
“Rather,” Evie admitted, taking Mrs. Summers’s hand and leading her toward the house, “but the journey wasn’t entirely terrible. After a bath and change of clothes, I might go so far as call it…memorable. It’s not often one has an adventure such as this.”
Mrs. Summers eyed her with suspicion. “You enjoyed yourself?”
Realizing it was too late to feign distress, Evie mentally winced and hoped she might be able to pull off bravery with a hint of indignation. “Better that I should have been miserable?”
“Best that you be sensibly alarmed.”
Evie stepped in front of Mrs. Summers to the front door, and used the opportunity to discreetly roll her eyes. “I assure you, there is little about this business I do not find alarming.”