The Stanforth Secrets by Jo Beverley

completely improper for Chloe to exclude her from the evening.
    Chloe popped her head into the breakfast parlor. Both Justin and Randal were there. She asked Justin about the dinner.
    “I suppose I must,” he said with resignation. “Need it be so soon, though?”
    “As soon as I have you established,” Chloe said lightly, “I can be on with my life. Now, I am for riding. Do you want to come?”
    “I feel I should devote myself to duty,” said Justin with a grimace. Again, Chloe thought how unlike Stephen he had become. “I’ll spend the morning looking at the neglected correspondence. Can I not persuade you to assist me?”
    For a moment, Chloe felt an absurd temptation to say yes. “Definitely not,” she said, with perhaps a little too much fervor. “You’ll manage very well, I’m sure,” she hurried on, “and Scarthwait can always be found if you need him. This afternoon I will be at your disposal, but this morning is far too fine to stay indoors. Randal? I believe we have a couple of horses would do you if you wish to accompany me.”
    “With pleasure,” said that young man, rising. “If I stay here, Justin’ll try to drag me into his affairs, and there’s nothing I’d like less.”
    Chloe was relieved to make her escape before she fell into folly. She hadn’t, however, been able to ignore a bleak look on Justin’s face. She felt as if she had abandoned him. She hardened her foolish heart.
    As they walked down to the stables Chloe asked, “What on earth would you do, Randal, if Chelmly were to die and you became the heir?”
    “Put a period to my existence?” he suggested. “My dislike of managing things is only one of many reasons I wish to God my brother would marry and get himself a nursery full of boys.”
    “Surely you can find someone to suit him. After all, there is no shortage of ladies willing to marry the handsome heir to a dukedom.”
    “None at all,” said Randal with a laugh. “It’s Chelmly who jibs. Heaven knows what he’s looking for, but he ain’t found it yet.”
    They arrived at the stables and Chloe gave Garford, the head groom, the invitations.
    “I’ll send the lad with them, if that’s all right, ma’am,” said the man. “He’ll enjoy a jaunt on a day like this and he’s reliable.”
    “Very well. Mercury for me, Garford, and Dorset, I think, for Lord Randal.”
    While Garford saddled the gray, Frank, the undergroom, led out a rangy chestnut gelding for Randal’s approval.
    “He’ll do,” said Randal, eyeing the young man, who was decidedly surly.
    With a scowl, the groom took the horse off to be harnessed.
    “Pleasant individual, I’m sure,” remarked Randal.
    “Oh, don’t mind Frank,” said Chloe, feeding an apple to Mercury. “He’s a good worker—been with us since he was a boy, and his father worked on the home farm. But he’s some kind of connection of Belinda’s, and he’s been in a strange mood ever since she married George. It must have put his nose out of joint. Fortunately she doesn’t ride and they rarely have to deal directly.”
    Lord Randal looked at the sturdy, handsome young man. “Odd setup. I’m surprised he doesn’t find work elsewhere.”
    Chloe looked at him. “Find work elsewhere? Randal, really. These people have been here forever. They consider going to Lancaster a mighty enterprise. When I found a kitchen maid an excellent position as undercook in Carnforth, it took me weeks to convince her to take it up.”
    At that moment a fine Irish setter bounded into the stable yard and up to Chloe.
    “Hello, Pepperpot,” she said, pulling its ears as it gambolled around her. “Want to run too?”
    The dog clearly expressed its assent, then went over to inspect the newcomer. Randal allowed the dog to check him out and was soon accepted. “A fine dog,” he said.
    “Yes, Stephen gave him to me but he’s not a town dog, of course. He deserves to get more hunting than he does here, especially now. Perhaps Justin will