'Then I shall make sure I dismiss any speculation I hear.'
'Aye, do, sir,' cried Annabelle, her cheeks burning, and not only with indignation. 'It is a poor thing if one cannot ride out with a neighbour!'
The exchange had left her feeling slightly uncomfortable. During their rides together Lucas never did or said anything untoward, but she was very much aware of his physical presence, of the warm note in his voice when he addressed her, and there was a curious lightness in her chest whenever she met his smiling eyes. It was nothing more than friendship, she told herself, but sometimes, in the dark reaches of the night, she hoped-dreamed-one day it might be more than that. Not that she could admit as much to Lucas, of course, so now she prevaricated a little.
'I fear I am taking you away from the building work.'
'You are not. I still make regular visits to the manor. To be truthful I think the builders are relieved that I am not on site all the time.'
'I know most of them,' said Annabelle. 'They are good men and do not require constant supervision.'
'I am aware, and it is not why I spend so much time there. I like to be involved, to get my hands dirty.'
Her eyes dropped to those hands, gloved in the finest leather and resting lightly on Sultan's glossy mane. Strong, capable hands. The memory of those same hands spanning her waist, lifting her down from Apollo, suddenly made her grow hot and she looked away.
'So will you be riding again tomorrow?' she spoke quickly, to defuse the sudden awkward tension she could feel around them.
'Not tomorrow. I would like to do something different.' He smiled at her enquiring look. 'I sent Rudd to fetch my curricle and he returned yesterday. I would like to take you out in it, if I may.'
She could feel the smile bursting out from inside her. There was no question of refusing such a tempting invitation.
'Oh, yes, if you please! I should like that very much. I have never been in a curricle and always wanted to do so. Sir John has a phaeton and it is very elegant, but a curricle-is it a racing one, sleek and low?'
He laughed at her enthusiasm. 'Yes, it is and tomorrow you shall have your wish and drive out in a curricle, Miss Havenham!'
Belle was waiting at the door when Lucas swept around Oakenroyd's curling drive the following morning. She did not come immediately to the carriage, but instead her attention was all on the matched bays pulling it.
'What magnificent creatures,' she declared as Rudd jumped down from the rumble seat and ran to their heads. 'May I?'
She would not approach until she had obtained the groom's consent, but once he had nodded she moved closer, murmuring endearments and rubbing each velvet nose in turn as she ran a practised eye over the bays.
'They are beautiful,' she said. 'Small heads, deep chests-I imagine they are very fast?'
Lucas was thankful she addressed her question to Rudd, for he was incapable of speech. He was looking at her, a slight smile playing about his mouth. She was wearing her olive-green riding habit with its military-style gold frogging, the one she often wore for riding out with him but now, as she moved gracefully around the horses, discussing their finer points with Rudd, her countenance beneath the stylish beaver hat was quite animated and she took his breath away.
'They are indeed fast,' he said when at last he handed her into the curricle. 'They are good for sixteen miles an hour on a fast road.'
'You will find very few highways of that standard here,' she told him. 'Except the new toll road at Dyke's Ridge.'
'Then we shall go there first and I will put them through their paces for you.' He saw Samuel standing in the doorway and turned to him. 'That is, if you have no objection, sir?'
'By all means,' Samuel replied. 'I saw you drive in and I do not doubt your ability. You have an excellent turnout there, my boy. If I were twenty years younger, I should like to try them myself.'
'Then go in my stead,' said Belle immediately. 'I am sure Mr Monserrat would take me another day … '
'No, no, my love, my racing days are over. We will enjoy a gentle ride together later, perhaps, but now off you go and enjoy yourself. Take care of my daughter, sir!'
'I will, sir, you may be sure of it.'
Driving off with Annabelle beside him, Lucas felt unusually exhilarated. It was easy to ignore the tiny pinprick of conscience he had felt when Samuel had adjured him to look after his daughter. He intended to do just that. He also wanted to impress her and he found himself reining in his own exuberance as well as keeping his horses in check. They skirted the town of Stanton, maintaining a steady pace through the rough lanes, but once they had climbed to the high road and left the old track to Oldroyd he dropped his hands. The bays leapt into their collars and sped away. The new road followed the curving ridge; to one side the moors stretched upwards, ending in a grey outcrop of rocks on the skyline, while on the other the land fell away, sharply at first, and the curricle swept around the first bend where the road came close to the edge of the ridge, with only a thin, grassy strip between the road and a steep valley. Once past the bend the land flattened out and a series of fields dipped gently to the old track which could be seen cutting through the valley, dropping down to the ford at Oldroyd Farm before snaking upwards again to meet the new road a mile or so past the toll house.
Instinctively Annabelle put her hand up to her bonnet. Lucas glanced at her.
'Frightened, Miss Havenham?'
'Not a bit of it,' she declared, laughing. 'I love racing along like this!'
They drew up for the toll, paid their fee and were off again. The bays flew over the ground, making short work of the last stretch of new road and all too soon they were dropping down to Holmeclough, from where they made their way back through the winding lanes towards Stanton. They passed few carriages, but there were several figures in the fields who straightened up to watch them race by and Mr Keighley's words came back to Annabelle.
'I fear we shall be the subject of some gossip, Mr Monserrat.'
He flicked a glance at her. 'Riding in an open carriage, with my groom perched up behind us? There is no impropriety in that.'
'No, of course not, but-'
'Are you not enjoying yourself, Miss Havenham?'
'Oh, yes, very much!'
'Would you like me to curtail our drive and take you home now?'
The very idea made her heart sink. 'No!' She put up her chin. 'As you say, we are doing nothing improper, and we have my father's blessing for this trip.' Having persuaded herself that no one could object, she settled herself more comfortably beside him. 'Where do we go now?'
'I am going to take you to Morwood, if you are agreeable. We have ridden around the land and you have seen the building work, but there is one improvement you have not yet seen. What do you say?'
Belle had readily agreed and soon they were driving along the tree-lined drive to the house. Not only was the road much improved, but the trees on either side had been thinned out and the undergrowth cut back, allowing sunlight to dapple their path. Instead of turning towards the house, Lucas kept his team on the path around the edge of the park, making for the Home Wood. As they approached Belle gave a little gasp.
'You have opened up the drive to the lake!'
'I have indeed. I set a team of men on to it after our first visit there.'
Where she had known only an overgrown track there was now a wide carriageway. Fresh gravel scrunched beneath the wheels as they followed the meandering route down through the trees to the lake. The new drive ended in a turning circle close to the water's edge.
'Eventually I want to extend the carriageway all around the lake, to rebuild the bridge and refurbish the boathouse, as it used to be, but for now this is as far as we can go.' He drew the curricle to a halt, facing the calm waters of the lake.
'An amazing transformation,' she declared, looking about her. 'Your men have worked so hard, but why, when there is so much yet to do at the house?'
'I have more than enough men working there. These were hired specifically to clear this path.'
Lucas knew he should not have done it, for it was outside the budget he had allowed for the rebuilding work, but Annabelle's reaction made it worthwhile.
'Extravagant, Mr Monserrat.'
She was smiling and Lucas felt the breath catch in his throat. She exuded happiness, her beaming smile, the bright sparkle in her eyes and the delicate flush on her cheeks. He wanted to lean closer, to soak up her radiance.
He returned her smile, holding her eyes, enjoying her innocent friendliness until he became aware of a subtle change. She was still smiling at him, still trusting, but anticipation filled the air around them. She was expecting something-that he would kiss her, perhaps? He wanted to do so, he wanted it very badly, but even as his head began to dip towards her, Samuel's parting words echoed in his mind.