“Good,” John said gruffly as he rubbed Leonardo’s forehead, then led him to stand beside the mounting block. “We were lucky on that score. Forgive me for saying so, my lady, but I don’t know what Lord Duffield was thinking, selling him like that to a man who rode heavy.”

I knew exactly what my brother had been thinking: How can I cause Augusta as much pain as possible? He had managed to do so, too, by selling the horse that had been my last precious gift from our late father. By God, I had been furious, and in truth I still could not forgive Duffy for such high-handedness. At least his perfidy, in the end, had not denied me my horse. Leonardo had been mysteriously delivered back to me. A gift—in absentia—from Lord Evan. Now my beautiful hunter was doubly dear to me: a gift from my father and my beloved.

“Have you had a chance to look over the gray?” I asked as I dismounted onto the block.

“I have,” John said. “Thomas told me what happened. It’s going to take some time to bring her back. She has a sweet nature, though.”

“Will she be sound again?”

“Aye. Although no thanks to the fool who nearly rode her into the ground.”

At the corner of my eye, I saw Thomas leading the limping gray toward the stables and, beyond him, two other figures, both female: one tall, bone thin, and swathed in shawls, the other smaller and in a print dress too fine for a maid. Good God, was that Lady Hester and Miss Grant? I gathered my habit skirts and hurriedly stepped down onto the flags.

What was Miss Grant thinking, bringing Lady Hester outside?

Over the last three weeks it had slowly transpired that Miss Grant was not only devoted to Lady Hester but also exceptionally stubborn, making our cohabitation increasingly strained. As I said to Julia more than once, if Miss Grant would just do as I asked instead of questioning me at every turn, then we would all be much happier. Julia had laughed and said that looking into a mirror could often be a discomfiting experience.

Miss Grant saw me crossing the flags and, with a reassuring touch to her beloved’s emaciated hand, hurried to meet me.

“What are you doing out here?” I demanded. “It is too dangerous for you to be wandering around. What if you are seen?”

Miss Grant bobbed into a curtsy but lifted her decided chin. “We are being careful, Lady Augusta. She just needed some air.” She looked back at Lady Hester leaning against the stable wall—sunken eyes closed, thin chest rising and falling in deep breaths—and lowered her voice. “In truth, now that she is strong enough to walk, she cannot abide being shut in a room too long. I think it brings back too much of the horror of her incarceration.”