Chapter Two

C assie studied the stranger. Until he spoke, she had been unaware of his presence in the crowd of gawkers, most of them village lads. He was no doubt on his road and must have taken refuge from the storm in the inn. He was tall, athletically built, and plainly in command of an expensive tailor and deep pockets. His handsome face was marked by an easy authority. His elegance made her conscious of the plainness of her cloak and the mud on her skirts.

His gaze was fixed on Hugh. Again, he offered the bank notes. He appeared to recognize Hugh's nature, but not how dangerous it was to provoke him.

Hugh was breathing hard. "One… does… not… apologize to one's inferiors."

"But I understand that Mr. Crockett here"—the stranger indicated Dick, as if he meant to include him in the conversation—"is your superior in at least one respect, if he is, indeed, the best farrier in these parts."

"You, sir, are meddling in an affair that's none of your business."

"Alas, your quarrel has impeded my business, or I would gladly let you continue to waste your breath defending the indefensible."

"Indefensible!" Red splotches bloomed in Hugh's fair cheeks. "This"—he pointed an accusing finger at Dick, then dropped it in the face of the stranger's forbidding countenance—"fellow has—"

The stranger held up his hand. "Spare me." He gave the bank notes a little shake. "Whatever the cause of your inconvenience, I suggest you cut your losses. Sixty guineas." He paused. "It's not difficult, really. A simple I beg your pardon will do."

There was a moment of frozen silence in the inn yard. Cassie realized she was desperately clutching her aunt's package, hoping that Hugh could behave with sense for once. She suspected that even the flies had suspended their buzzing waiting for his reply.

"Oh, very well then," Hugh said. He pivoted and executed a sloppy bow in Cassie's direction that slightly included Dick. "Cassie, Crockett, I beg your pardon."

He turned to the stranger with a smirk. "Satisfied?"

The stranger merely extended the hand with the bank notes. He let Hugh take them, careful that their hands did not touch, an insult that Cassie knew would not go unnoticed by Hugh, who stalked off, yelling at the yard boys to bring him a horse. The little drama ended, and the inn yard came back to life with ostlers hustling to hitch teams to carriages and bring saddled horses to their riders.

A tug on her sleeve made Cassie turn to Dick Crockett. His eyes were big with questions. The youth was deaf from an illness contracted when he was eight. His family spoke with him through signs they'd invented and through writing on slates. The boy was good at reading faces and doing sums. He knew how hard it was to come by ready cash.

Cassie tried to ease his fears. She had a little facility with the signs he used especially those that had to do with his work. It was harder to explain the role the stranger had played in pacifying Hugh. Dick mimed the counting of the bank notes. Cassie shook her head and told him not to worry. His gaze focused on her lips. She promised that she would talk with his parents later.

When she was able to turn her attention to the stranger, his chaise and four had been drawn up, and he was on the point of climbing aboard with another gentleman. Again, she got a sense of his wealth. Not only was he able to throw away what could be a year's income for the likes of Dick Crockett, he had a team of horses her grandmother would likely kill to possess.

"I fear you've made an enemy," Cassie told him, looking up into the strong, lean face. It was something to be the object of the stranger's intense gaze. As one of the neighborhood's eccentrics, she was used mainly to indifference from the male population around her. The stranger seemed really to see her.

"Will he bother you because of my interference?"

"Oh, I think not. He has little regard for my opinion."

"Yet, you've known him a long time?"

In the face of his alert, and she had to admit, admiring gaze, Cassie tried to return a light answer. "All my life. It's impossible to avoid knowing one's neighbors in the country."

"Ah," he said. A smile tugged at the corner of his fine mouth. "I'll have to remember that."

His companion stuck his head out of the carriage. "Sir Adrian, we must be going."

The stranger turned to her one more time. "You're sure Hugh will not be a problem for you."

"I'm sure," she said. "I haven't thanked you properly. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. You seem to have had Hugh under control."

"Oh, I doubt that Hugh is ever under control exactly, but you knew what would turn him from his anger."

"Greed, you mean?" One of his dark brows lifted. "I've met his like before."

For a moment they stood looking at each other.

Then he offered her a brief bow, and climbed into the waiting carriage. As it pulled out of the inn yard, Cassie shivered in the breeze. She had vanished from the stranger's thoughts. The brief warmth of his regard had passed. He had returned to whatever pressing business the storm had interrupted. She looked for Jenkins, the head ostler, to procure her a ride home in the inn gig. Honoria must be worried by now.