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Vane arrived early in the breakfast parlor the next morning. He served himself, then took his seat and waited for Patience to appear. The rest of the males wandered in, exchanging their usual greetings. Vane pushed back his plate and waved for Masters to pour him more coffee.

Coiled tension had him in its grip; how much longer would it be before he could release it? That, to his mind, was a point to which Patience should give her most urgent attention, yet he could hardly begrudge Minnie her aid.

When Patience failed to appear by the time they'd finished their meals, Vane inwardly sighed and fixed Gerrard with a severe glance. "I need a ride." He did, in more ways than one, but at least he could release some of his pent-up energy in a good gallop. "Interested?"

Gerrard squinted out of the window. "I was going to sketch, but the light looks flat. I'll come riding instead."

Vane raised a brow at Henry. "You game, Chadwick?"

"Actually"-Henry sat back in his chair-"I'd thought to practice my angle shots. Wouldn't do to get rusty."

Gerrard chuckled. "It was pure luck you beat Vane last time. Anyone could tell he was a trifle out of sorts."

A trifle out of sorts? Vane wondered if he should educate Patience's brother on precisely how "out of sorts" he was. A blue powder wouldn't cure his particular ache.

"Ah-but I did win." Henry clung to his moment of victory. "I've no intention of letting my advantage slip."

Vane merely smiled sardonically, inwardly grateful Henry would not be accompanying them. Gerrard rarely spoke when riding, which suited his mood far better than Henry's locquaciousness. "Edmond?"

They all looked down the table to where Edmond sat gazing at his empty plate, mumbling beneath his breath. His hair stuck out at odd angles where he'd clutched it.

Vane raised a brow at Gerrard, who shook his head. Edmond was clearly in the grip of his muse and deaf to all else. Vane and Gerrard pushed back their chairs and rose.

Patience hurried in. She paused just inside the room, and blinked at Vane, half-risen.

He immediately subsided into his chair. Gerrard turned, and saw him reseated; he also resumed his seat.

Reassured, Patience headed for the sideboard, picked up a plate, and went straight to the table. She was late; in the circumstances, she'd settle for tea and toast. "Minnie's better," she announced as she took her seat. Looking up the table, she met Vane's gaze. "She spent a sound night and has assured me she doesn't need me today."

She swept a brief smile over Henry and Edmond, thus rendering the information general.

Gerrard grinned at her. "I suppose you'll be off to the music room as usual. Vane and I are going for a ride."

Patience looked at Gerrard, then stared up the table at Vane. Who stared back. Patience blinked, then reached for the teapot. "Actually, if you'll wait a few minutes, I'll come with you. After being cooped up these last days, I could do with some air."

Gerrard looked at Vane, who was gazing at Patience, an unfathomable express

ion on his face. "We'll wait" was all he said.

By agreement, they met in the stable yard.

After scurrying into her habit, then rushing out of the house like a hoyden, Patience was mildly irritated to find Gerrard not yet there. Vane was already atop the grey hunter. Both rider and horse were restless.

Climbing into her sidesaddle, Patience took up her reins and glanced back toward the house. "Where is he?"

Lips compressed, Vane shrugged.

Three minutes later, just as she was about to dismount to go and search, Gerrard appeared. With his easel.

"I say, I'm sorry, but I've changed my mind." He grinned up at them. "There's clouds coming up and the light's turned grey-it's just the look I've been waiting to capture. I need to get it down before it changes again." He shifted his burden and continued to grin. "So go on without me-at least you've got each other for company."

Gerrard's disingenuity was transparently genuine; Vane swallowed a curse. He glanced swiftly at Patience; she met his gaze, questions in her eyes.

Vane understood the questions-but Gerrard was standing there, large as life, waiting to wave them away. Jaw firming, he gestured to the stable arch. "Shall we?"

After a fractional hesitation, Patience nodded and flicked her reins. With a perfunctory wave to Gerrard, she led the way out. Vane followed. As they thundered along the track past the ruins, he glanced back. So did Patience. Gerrard, slogging in their wake, waved gaily.

Vane cursed. Patience looked forward.


Tags: Stephanie Laurens Cynster Historical