The Secret Love of a Gentleman by Jane Lark

sucking on it.
    It meant their return ride was restricted to the pace of a walk as Drew cradled George on one arm and tried not to dislodge him with the rock of the horse.
    They were still about twenty minutes away from the house when Rob heard the sound of a single horse cantering along the dry mud track and the creak of a vehicle. Gripping the pommel of his saddle, Rob turned to look back, steering his animal off the track and out of its path. He recognised the trap, even though it was a distance away. It was the vehicle Drew had bought for Mary to drive when she wished to go out alone. He saw the two women.

    Mary wore a wide-brimmed straw bonnet and she was clothed in pink, while Caroline was wearing pale-lemon yellow, with an ivory shawl and parasol. The pair of them made a tableau from a ladies’ magazine.
    “Mary.” Rob stated, looking back at Drew, knowing that Drew would not have been able to look with George sprawled across his thighs. “You’re in for it now. She said you’d wear George out.”
    Drew laughed, but he pulled his horse to a halt as the trap approached.
    “Whoa,” Mary called to slow her horse. Obviously she’d recognised them from a distance too. She stared at Drew as she slowed the trap to a halt.
    Drew looked downward and gave Mary a devil-may-care smile, which dared her to challenge him if she wished to.
    “He is exhausted,” she said, her gaze shifting to George.
    “He is asleep,” Drew answered. “Because he had a wonderful time and needed to rest.”
    Mary clucked her tongue and made a face at Drew. She knew her husband well. There was no point challenging Drew, she would not win the argument.
    “He did have a wonderful time,” Rob assured her, “Everyone made a fuss over him and he spent his first hour laughing his head off with glee at the opportunity of such a long ride, and he has been given a dozen biscuits.”
    Mary frowned at him, reprimanding him for siding with Drew.
    “Don’t turn your wrath on me,” Rob stated jokingly, “I am not to blame. But George did enjoy it.”
    “Will you hand George to me, Drew? At least then we can get him home sooner, and securely.” Caroline stood. Of course she must know Drew best of all.

    Drew smiled at her, let go of his reins and lifted George, then leaned over. Caro put down her parasol to receive the sleeping child.
    Yellow suited her colouring. It gave her freshness and made her look younger. She sat, as though George was heavier than she’d expected, and settled him across her lap, cradling his head on her arm.
    When she’d been married she must have had to organise a huge household, the size of John’s probably. The other day Rob had sensed wounded pride within her distress. When she’d left her husband, she’d also left the position of marchioness, with respect and finery to the style that Katherine had, to then become a penniless dependent of her brother. It must have tilted her world upside down.
    Another hard, sudden feeling gripped at his gut as Mary pulled away and he watched Caroline. It was pity.
    What she’d left behind was another signal of how much she’d suffered. It would have taken a lot to make her choose to leave that life.
    But he was certain that Caroline would abhor pity. Perhaps that was a part of her discomfort, that she must be reliant on others, and therefore be in need of pity. Perhaps she was embarrassed by her reliance on Drew as much as by her husband.
    The pity in his gut swelled to admiration in his chest as Drew turned his horse off the track and kicked his heels, rising into a canter. Rob followed, racing the trap back to the house.
    The first night he’d met Drew, Rob’s family had applauded Drew when he’d entered the room, out of respect because he’d helped Caroline escape her marriage. They should have applauded Caroline because she had survived years of cruelty and then had the courage to leave Kilbride.
    When they reached the house Rob dismounted and handed the reins of his