She looked up at him when she’d finished reading, hoping her countenance didn’t betray her roiling emotion. “How did you learn of this gentleman?”

“He used to breed Dartmoor ponies, and…and sell them at the annual m-market on the moor. They know of him in King’s Abbot.”

“Tavistock. That’s not far, is it?”

“Forty miles.”

She frowned. It wasn’t an easy distance. But Tavistock was a market town, wasn’t it? There must be rail access. “Could you not simply go there? Call on him yourself? It may be more expedient.”

“No. I d-don’t—” He stopped. “It’s difficult.”

She didn’t enquire as to what he meant. Was it his speech that posed the difficulty? Was it the weather? She supposed it could be either. “What is it you’d like him to do? Do you want him to take the ponies?”

“Not take them, but…they’ll need to go back. To the moors.”

Her heart swelled. He wanted to return them to the wild. To their home. Hadn’t he said there weren’t many of them left? “Is it safe for them there? On Dartmoor, I mean? If their numbers are decreasing—”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I hope…my letter…”

“Yes, quite.” She folded it and handed it back to him. “Mr. Atkyns must have some advice on the subject. I shall pray he writes back to you directly.”

Mr. Cross returned the letter to his desk. She waited for him to say something more, but he seemed too preoccupied to continue their conversation.

“I must go,” she said. “Mrs. Bainbridge is waiting for her book.”

A notch worked its way between his brows. He stared down at her. “Will I see you again?”

Clara’s stomach gave a responsive quiver. With her imagination, she could almost believe his question to be romantic. It wasn’t, clearly. They simply had a few minor things in common. It had nothing to do with romance.

She moistened her lips. “I’d like to visit Betty again if I might.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t a moment to myself today. Mrs. Bainbridge requires me until luncheon. And this afternoon will be taken up with gathering greenery in the woods. Lady Helena hopes to take advantage of the brief respite from the rain.”

He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“To gather greenery?”

“Unless you—”

“I’d like that,” she said. “I shall look forward to it.”

It wasn’t an assignation. Most of the guests at the house party would be in the woods right along with them, cutting branches and gathering holly and mistletoe. Why then did Clara feel as though she’d just arranged to meet a lover?

Her heart pumped wildly as she exited the library. She had to stop a moment in the hall to cool her blushes.

Will I see you again?

It didn’t mean anything. And if it did, it was only the beginnings of a friendship. She needed a friend now, far more than a sweetheart. Someone she could talk to. Someone who would listen.