He pushed back his chair with a loud scrape. “If you will excuse me, I’ve forgotten something I meant to take care of.” He bowed. “I will meet you at the site.” He turned before she could answer, nodding to the footman who opened the door and facilitated his escape. He knew his behavior was rude, but he did not wish to be trapped in the stables and forced to endure an emotional scene. Just the thought of facing such a situation made him feel ill. He realized he hadn’t eaten much and knew that might be part of it. He tended to forget food when either immersed in thought or some other interesting activity. How interesting that he’d forgotten about eating in the woman’s presence. He could not recall that happening before.

***

Serena half-expected Mr. Lockheart not to be at the dam when they arrived. She couldn’t help wondering if she had said something to drive him away. But she’d gone over her words a dozen times in the past half hour and had come up with nothing—at least nothing rude or offensive. And she knew he liked Oliver, so it couldn’t have been that he would be joining them. No, the man was an enigma.

The horses he’d brought for Serena and her son were by far some of the finest they’d ever ridden. Thanks to the generosity of his grandparents, Oliver had been riding since before he was breeched.

Serena had ridden a lot as a girl, mostly her mountain pony and astride. On a side saddle she was an adequate rider, but she took no great joy in the activity, only in the sense she was able to get from one point to another that much quicker.

And so they’d headed out, Serena and Oliver on their new mounts, followed by the nine young dogs they had found living in the stables on their arrival. The stable master, Horrocks, had told them Oliver was welcome to them—if he would train them. The dogs had gone from a half-mad hoard to reasonably obedient companions over the past five weeks and she was proud of her son. So when he’d asked this morning if he might bring them along, she had assented.

“You may take the dogs today, Oliver. But I want you to take them for a run and exhaust some of their enthusiasm before you come to watch the workers.”

Her son nodded, but she could tell his head was elsewhere—flying across the hillside on his new steed, which he had immediately named Starling because of his unusual mottled coat.

Her own horse, a pretty chestnut mare with a sweet disposition, suited Serena’s abilities to the ground. She must thank Jessup, who had apparently paid close attention to both her and Oliver to be able to make such a report.