Chapter 178

Despite his determination to help make Caitlin's life easier and, most importantly, safer, it took Hugo until noon to find the time to look for Mr Darcy, there was so much to do in the stables with a house filled with visiting gentlemen. Colonel Fitzwilliam had arrived on horseback, and Earl Compton and Mr Bingley had sent for their own hunters, and of course every local farmer and every supplier needed to see the stable master today on some matter that was of great importance to them, but a terrible nuisance to Hugo. Didn't they see he had a real predicament on his hands? An admirable woman might be in danger at that very moment, and there was nothing Hugo could do to help her until he had convinced a sturdy middle-aged farmer that, as stable master, he could indeed request for more oats to be delivered to Mr Darcy's stables without Mr Brewer's permission.

'Yes, Mr Brewer decides with Mr Darcy which fields are to be planted with oats each year, but if we need more feed for the horses I have the authority to use as much as we need and sell less surplus to the markets. If you don't believe me, why don't you seek him out yourself? He will be in his study right now, busy as ever with important matters. Which is why he lets me handle the day-to-day business of running the stables, including payments and deliveries! I wouldn't advise you to disturb him about something that is not your problem if it goes wrong, but feel absolutely free.'

He knew his sarcasm and impatience wouldn't help his reputation among Mr Darcy's tenants, but somehow he didn't care. Why did he let Caitlin's plight bother him so much? He was helping her, wasn't he? These things took time, and she had promised to seek out a safer place for the night. But he couldn't help seeing her face as she calmly thanked him for saving her dignity and possibly her life. Somehow, he couldn't wait to tell her about his time in the French army, and hear the rest of her heartrending tale of abuse and flight. Did he feel so connected to her because he'd saved her? Or because she was so brave in the face of danger? Or maybe this was the effect of forcing himself to get to know the women he was considering as his future wife? Maybe showing an interest in someone inevitably made one feel concern for them, because knowing people forged a bond with them? But she had made it perfectly clear she didn't intend to marry a man to whom she might be a second choice, a man who wasn't in love with her but merely wanted a comfortable home and a companion for the rest of his life.

'You mean Mr Darcy won't blame me if the oats should have been sold after all?'

Forcing himself to sound perfectly calm and kind, Hugo replied, 'Exactly. If the oats should have been sold after all it will be my fault, for I ordered them delivered to the stables. Any anger Mr Darcy might feel will be aimed at the person responsible, and that is me.'

'In that case, I'd better go home and do some weeding, it's spring and I shouldn't be away from my fields for too long.'

'Thank you for the oats, then, and until next time!'

Mentioning Mr Brewer had given Hugo an idea, why didn't he pay the steward a short visit in his study and ask whether there were any houses to be let in some safe village belonging to Mr Darcy? Mr Darcy had given his permission after all, and he would delegate to Mr Brewer anyway.

Since everything was now under control in the stables for an hour or two, until the ladies and gentlemen of the house were going on their day's ride, Hugo decided to slip into the house immediately and see Mr Brewer in his study. It was adjacent to Mr Darcy's study and thus in the front of the house, but Hugo didn't hesitate even if he was wearing his working clothes. Neither did he wonder why he didn't feel in the least embarrassed to be caught in the front when he ran into Mr and Mrs Fielding in the hall, he merely greeted them as he would have anyone else, and they returned his greeting as they would have anyone else's.

Even if he managed to arrange a safe house for Caitlin and Ben today, how would they know? They were staying with someone in the village, some widow? Or maybe she'd just told him that to get rid of him? He should probably try her own hut first as soon as he had news, instead of asking random inhabitants in Ripley where the Irish herb woman might be staying. And what if the widow in question had refused and Caitlin and Ben had to stay by themselves regardless of the danger? Should he check on them tonight, just in case they weren't safe? What if that young farmer had incited the village against Caitlin? She was Irish, and an unmarried woman with a child, but they needed her for their ailments to be treated and their children to be born right, didn't they?

Sunk deep in uncomfortable thoughts he didn't notice Mr Darcy just exiting his own study as he passed it towards Mr Brewer's.

'Hugo, I didn't expect to see you here, did something happen? Were you looking for me? You look very worried.'

Well, he was worried, and though he hadn't been looking for Mr Darcy, in a way this was for the best.

'Yes, Mr Darcy, on both counts. Actually, since I didn't dare disturb you I was hoping to speak to Mr Brewer, something did happen last night to make me fear for my friend's well-being, maybe even her life.'

That sounded serious, but it was.

'Well then, I was going to join the gentlemen at billiards but they can do without me a little longer, and Brewer undoubtedly knows what we need to help your friend find a safe house. For I suppose that is what you came for, whatever happened convinced her to accept my offer?'

As Hugo drew breath to tell him, Mr Darcy gestured towards the next door.

'You can tell us both at the same time, Brewer will need some detail to make a good choice. Sadly we have some vacancies, Witham especially was hit hard with the same lung condition that so nearly did for Mrs Reynolds.'

He let Hugo precede him towards the door, but when Hugo stopped to knock, the master of the house just opened the door and held it for Hugo to follow him inside. Then he closed it behind his stable master.

Mr Brewer had been working on some ledger or other, ink stand open beside him, pen still in hand, but the entrance of his employer cause him to look up from his task. To Hugo, it looked boring, but he knew different men preferred different employment. Ben, for instance, was as little suited to be a farmer as Hugo or Mr Brewer would be. The boy was smart and could have gone far, if he'd only been born in the right house, on the right side of the sheets. But he hadn't been, and therefore had to make the best of life as it was, helping his mother scrape up a living.

Mr Brewer was as surprised to see Hugo in this part of the house as Mr Darcy had been, but he didn't comment. He merely greeted both of them.

'Mr Darcy, Mr Hugo, what can I do for you?'

'You tell him, Hugo, and better start with what you told me, about the sod roof and the English gentleman's son. And then what happened tonight to make you voluntarily enter the front of the house, looking almost distraught, I'd say. I've never seen you this shook up, and it's not on your own account I'm certain.'

So Hugo told them everything, not emphasising his proficiency at fighting but not hiding it either, he'd decided some people could be trusted with his past and these two belonged in that category. Of course he didn't tell them about his wish to get married, and his unsuccessful attempt to find out Caitlin's views on that subject. Let them think he only valued her as a lover. Well he did, didn't he? He wasn't in love with her or anything, he'd just as soon or sooner marry Rose.

'So we're looking for a place for a woman who can heal general ailments with herbal remedies and who has skills as midwife, with a single child and in possession of a few goats and chickens. I suppose she'd want a kitchen garden and maybe a cow if there is room for one. Do you think her boy would be able to run a small farm in a few years?'

'He is only ten, Mr Brewer, and though he tends to the goats I think he is of a bookish nature. I'd sooner see him do what you do than work the fields. Though of course he'll do whatever is necessary to survive, like his mum.'

'I see. Old Jackson passed away this winter and his children don't want his cottage, it's too small and has too little acreage. But next door are getting on as well, on both sides, in a few years they might want to let some of their fields go to the neighbour, just in time for an ambitious young farmer to start expanding. Frankly, the size of the house and the lack of acreage are not the main problem with the place, it's the age of the house, really. It's quaint but very old-fashioned, though sound, Jackson's children kept it well. Most young people don't want an old house, though, that's why it's still empty. It's in Witham, not very close to Pemberley. Would that be a problem for you? Though I suppose once she's among civilised people your little lady might like to get married, and then it's perhaps for the best to have her well away from you.'

He was not rubbing in Hugo's failure last night, he didn't know and anyway, Mr Brewer was much too refined for that, but still Hugo felt a little pang at the thought of Caitlin marrying some villager. They'd never understand her complex character! The thought of her coming to live just out of easy reach wasn't pleasant and yet... if Hugo married Rose, it might be painful for Caitlin to attend the same church. As it would be for Hugo to see Caitlin with another man.

'I'm very much in favour of having a competent healer in Witham,' Mr Darcy said, 'they lost too many this winter, I'd be very grateful if there was someone to help prevent that this year. And I suppose the people in Witham will be more likely to accept a strange woman in their midst since they really do need someone to help the sick. It's a beautiful little village, Elizabeth loves it.'

Mr Darcy often referred to his wife by her Christian name, which Hugo thought was endearing, despite doing the same with his own lovers. But somehow the English gentry were so much more formal than the people he had grown up with. Fortunately, Mr Darcy wasn't like that anymore, though he had been before he met his wife. But now he was almost cheeky.

'And I'm certain that cottage has a barn or a stable, Hugo, if you want to visit to see how your friend and her son are doing you can take a horse.'

'So you agree to let the Jackson cottage go to this young woman and her son, Mr Darcy? Which terms do you want to specify?'

'Well, let me see. She will be of service to the villagers and they cannot pay much for treatments. So why don't we make her assistance part of the lease? And from what you tell me she needs the forest to collect plants for medicine?'

'Yes, sir, and she lets her goats browse there.'

'The Jackson cottage has plenty of good grassland for those goats to stuff themselves sick without plundering my woods. But your friend will have permission to gather plants for medicine in the forest. We'll see about rent when she is settled, I'll be very reasonable since I want her skills and the place isn't in very high demand. And Nathan?'

'Yes, Mr Darcy?'

'Let it be known that the young lady is under my protection, no woman shall be hunted in my domain.'

'Of course, sir, I'll ask Mr Eliot to mention it in his sermons there, and I'll talk to the elders. And what about the boy?'

'What about the boy, Nathan?'

'Well, if he is smart, Sunday school won't be enough of a challenge for his learning abilities. I could include him in the lessons with my boys. It's not so very far away for a boy eager to learn something.'

'I'll leave that to you, then. Right now, I have guests to see to. I trust you will arrange matters to the young lady's satisfaction?'

'I will have the place checked today or tomorrow, sir, and once that is done she can move in at her convenience.'

'Does that settle your mind a little, Hugo?'

'It certainly does, sir, thank you very much. With your permission I will seek her out to let her know as soon as Mr Brewer has the details.'

'Very well, Hugo, and thank you! For adding to the village but also for your care for your friend. If all the regular horses are in use when you want to visit your friend to let her know about the cottage, you can take a cob. You're not ashamed to be seen on one, are you?'

'Not in the least, sir, but so far I don't even know where she is staying. Thank you!'

And with a friendly nod, Mr Darcy left. Mr Brewer took a good look at Hugo and asked, 'Can it be that the famous Don Jean Hugo has finally fallen for a woman? If you want a place closer to Pemberley for the three of you just say it, I'll see what I can do.'

He motioned for Hugo to sit down for a moment, and Hugo decided the steward's calm kindness was too much to resist. It was very confusing to be Hugo right now, and Mr Brewer was said to be very fond of his wife, maybe he could help him decide which woman to get married to.

'I'm afraid I spoiled that chance. But you are right in that I have had enough of chasing skirts. I'm lonely and I'd like to get married. I asked Caitlin whether she wanted to get married someday, and though she said she didn't want to be a man's property I had the feeling she would have made an exception for me. But then she found out I had another prospect, a woman from Clifton I've been seeing, and she got very angry. So I guess I'll have to work up the courage to ask Rose to marry me and hope she'll have me.'

Mr Brewer shook his head in disbelief, then had some kind of realisation.

'You mean the late John Kendall´s Rose? From Clifton? You've been seeing her and this Irish healer lady and now you want to marry one of them? Mr Hugo, I admit Rose Kendall is quite a catch, and if she'd have you you'd be a very lucky man. If her children accepted you, don't underestimate them, they have a lot of influence on their mother.

But how can you not know which woman you want to marry? Spending the rest of your life with someone is not easy, you know, you have to commit to them with all your heart. Do you love Rose?'

Under his intense gaze, Hugo felt like a criminal, though he had always been honest with either woman.

'I don't. But I don't think she is ready to love either, and I think we could be very happy together without love.'

Mr Brewer nodded but nonetheless stayed as intense.

'And this Caitlin, the lady healer? You are very concerned about her. Do you love her?'

'I don't think I'm the type to fall in love, Mr Brewer. And Caitlin has been very frank with me, she will not be second choice. She has a very strong will, you see, she is very brave. So I don't think I'll have the chance to fall in love with her.'

'And does that bother you?'

Strangely, it did. Hugo had not realised before, but Caitlin's rejection hurt much more than Elaine's. But that was because they had been through such an intense experience afterwards, wasn't it?

'I understand why she said that, I wasn't careful of my words and it didn't make a good impression. I've this reputation, you see. Before that happened, I thought she had some feelings for me, she said several things that implied she did care for me. But if she was in love with me she wouldn't have told me to leave, would she?'

'If she hadn't cared for you, would your confession have hurt her?'

Insult, yes, but hurt? Caitlin had been through too much to let mere words hurt her. He said as much. Mr Brewer nodded and replied, 'Exactly. Her reaction suggests she does love you. And her boy?'

'Ben. He is ten years old and kind of dreamy. I think he likes me well enough, but he never had a father so I suppose he is more willing to accept his mother being with a man. Rose's children didn't like a man from the village eyeing their mother, but they told me they didn't mind her and myself spending time. They knew, you see.'

'Mr Hugo, I don't know you that well, and I've heard a lot of stories about you. But when you talk about Rose, you sound like your reputation. When you talk about the Irish lady, and her son, you sound different. Please be very careful with what you ask and tell Rose until you know your feelings for Caitlin. Maybe it's the shock you shared, or your worry for her and her son, but to me it sounds as if you have feelings for her, which you either deny or don't recognise yet. But please don't create expectations in one woman and then marry another. It will break their heart, you are a very attractive man and I can imagine they both have feelings for you.'

Hugo wanted to protest everything the steward said, he had always been honest and he wasn't in love with Caitlin!

'Don't say anything yet, let me finish. I know you haven't broken any promises to either of them. Not yet. Will you please take time to sort out this marrying scheme? Wait until Caitlin is settled before you ask Rose? Before you do something you'll regret? You say Rose is not ready to love another man, but do you think she cannot grow to love you really quickly if she knows she can have you to herself? And how can a few weeks hurt when the happiness of all three of you is concerned? Please?'

He was right anyway, Caitlin's reaction proved it.

'I promise. Because you know more about real love and marriage than I do. I still think I'm not in love, or I should be devastated right now, shouldn't I? My hands should be trembling and I should be thinking of Caitlin all day.'

Now Mr Brewer laughed heartily.

'If I could imagine you doing so, I'd now accuse you of reading too many novels. You're not a boy anymore, Mr Hugo, you're a grown man. Can you imagine yourself ever trembling with love?'

Hugo couldn't help laughing at the very thought.

'I thought so. And you've had every excuse to think of Caitlin all day, she is in serious danger and you are right to want to help her as quickly as possible. Which is why I want you to wait until she is safe and happy. If you can let go of her then, by all means ask Rose to marry you, I think you will be a great husband and I am sure she will be a perfect wife for you if her children can accept their mother being with another man than their father. But if you marry one when you love the other that is setting yourself up for misery, and dragging two others along with you.'

His sincerity was real, and Hugo felt flattered and in a way, relieved. For part of him had realised it was wrong to calculate his way into a marriage, especially when Caitlin had reacted so… hurt, he realised now. She had been hurt, and in her pride she had reacted by lashing out.

'I think you are right, Caitlin may have feelings for me. But she is proud, she will not accept my hand without my love.'

'Then see to it that you know your own heart before you give your hand to someone else. I wish you good luck, Mr Hugo, and I am very certain you will solve this problem. As I will solve yours, if not today then tomorrow. Can I find you in the stables when I have news?'

'I will be there most of the day, yes. And if I have to leave I will let Peter or one of the others know where I am. Thank you, I will heed your advice.'

Even if he didn't think the steward was right about Hugo's feelings, he had made some strong points, and Hugo was not going to risk hurting Rose or riling up Caitlin even more. If she loved him she would have jumped at the chance to marry him, wouldn't she? But the way she'd looked at him yesterday and some things she'd said seemed to imply she did have some warm feelings for him.

Well, breaking his head over this wouldn't solve anything, he'd better get back to work and forget the whole thing until Mr Brewer had some news, which he then had to find a way to pass on to Caitlin. Most likely he could just ride out to Ripley, it was a small village, people would know soon enough if Caitlin was staying there.

When he returned to his own domain, Peter had a message for him.

'My father-in-law sent word, he wants us to drop by this afternoon because he has news to help your search for ponies, and since that is for Mr Darcy's benefit I promised we would come even though it's during working hours. We can be back well before feeding time.'

Already? Hugo hadn't expected Peter's proposal, that his father-in-law contact his local connections to find out who might have a team of elegant ponies for sale for Mrs Darcy's new phaeton, to bear fruit this quickly. But Hugo couldn't visit Mr Langley today, he'd promised Mr Brewer he would stay in the stables!

'You disagree? I'm sorry, Mr Hugo, I thought it was only reasonable we'd visit during the day since Mr Langley is getting on a bit and my missus says her father needs his evenings to rest.'

'No, you're right to want to go in the afternoon, I'm very thankful that Mr Langley is willing to help us find those ponies. It's just that I promised Mr Brewer to stay in, waiting for some important news he is gathering for me. But I work is more important than a private matter, and I don't suppose our business at the Langley farm will take very long at this stage of the process. Let's find out what he has to tell us, and I'll ask Bob to tell Mr Brewer why I'm not in, if he shows at all. I suppose his business also takes time to arrange, I shouldn't be this impatient.'

As Peter looked at him curiously, Hugo realised he was indeed acting and feeling different than normal. He should really get a hold of himself, bothering others with one's worries wasn't seemly at all here in England. Here, a man was measured by his ability to stay totally unaffected under any circumstance, and Hugo was lucky to have been taught to control his temper from an early age or he would have had real trouble winning and keeping the respect of his staff.

'Never mind my ramblings, Peter, thank you for arranging this for me, it has already saved me a world of trouble. Do you want to leave immediately?'

About an hour later, Peter and Hugo were riding Mr Darcy's least impressive horses towards Mr Langley's farm, not a good look when visiting a horse breeder of some renown, but with most of Mr Darcy's guests borrowing their host's horses for the almost-daily riding tours, these cobs were all that was left for the staff to use on errands. The cobs were very versatile, they usually drew the cart the stable staff had at their disposal for fetching and carrying, and hauling, but they could also be ridden when the need arose. Their sturdy build and great strength made that each could easily carry two men, but that didn't make them any faster or more elegant. Still, they were faster than going on foot, and though very obedient, would undoubtedly benefit from being ridden by an accomplished rider for once.

'We'll make quite an entrance on these cobs, Mr Hugo,' Peter echoed Hugo's thoughts.

'Maybe we should ride in standing or sitting backwards to distract from the horses. But I suppose I feel a need to make a good impression because Mr Langley is my father-in-law, and a man can never seem to be good enough for another man's daughter.'

'Do you think you're not good enough for your missus?'

Hugo was very surprised, to him Peter was the ideal husband, faithful, openly admiring of his wife and a loving father to their little boy.

'Well, even if we were to ride over on a couple of outstanding hunters, they wouldn't be my own, would they? I earn a good wage but I don't own my own house. I'm certain Mr Langley would have wished something better for his daughter than to have her live as a tenant on a rented farm. With a man who has to obey a master, when he has always had only himself to please. No offence, Mr Hugo, I like working for you.'

'None taken, Peter. I understand what you mean, and will remind you that I haven't got a fortune or a house of my own either, even though you have to take my orders. And remember, you are married to the heir of Mr Langley's stud farm. Your son at least will be his own master. But I am very certain your missus is very happy to be married to you, and isn't love the only thing that really counts?'

Peter seemed impressed by Hugo's observation and replied daringly.

'You're the last man in the world I'd expect to say something sentimental about love, Mr Hugo. Though I hope, and think, you are right about my missus. She seems happy enough. The boys and I used to imagine you owning a manor in France, with bloodthirsty revolutionaries forcing you to flee and leave everything behind. You look like a gentleman, you see, though you're the only Frenchman we've ever known so maybe all Frenchmen do. But of course you're too good with horses and stubborn boys to ever have been a rich nobleman looking down his nose at common men, so I guess it was just something we made up to make you seem more interesting.'

'Well, you're not too far wrong, except I'm the second son of a second son, and the grounds belonging to my uncle's chateau are only the size of Mr Darcy's park. I was much like the lot of you, a stubborn boy, and my uncle's stable master taught me manners without being allowed to lay a hand on me or give me dirty chores to do as punishment. I suppose you might call him my first teacher in how to handle boys, and his most challenging project, myself. Ha! I see I've managed to surprise you!'

And he had. Peter's horse betrayed him, by turning its ears towards its rider. Peter's body hadn't been as controlled as his face, and the horse wanted to know what he meant with that small squeeze of his legs disturbing his otherwise totally balanced seat. Probably without noticing, Peter scratched the large neck to apologise for the miscommunication, and the horse directed its attention back to the road ahead, keeping one ear on Peter to make certain not to miss any real instructions.

'You're still the best, Mr Hugo, it's impossible to fool you. You did surprise me there, you've never told anyone anything about your past, and now you voluntarily give me such a staggering bit of information? And you think love is the only thing that matters? If you don't mind my asking, what has happened to you, you didn't bump your head or anything?'

Well, that wasn't just daring but plain cheek. And yet, Hugo felt like talking to Peter, he lacked the brawn Hugo tended to admire but he wasn't anyone's fool either, and he knew what love was.

'I want to get married, Peter, but I don't think I'll ever fall in love. Some people seem to think it's unwise to get married without being in love, and it's certainly confusing. For which of my lady friends should I ask, and if I cannot ask them at the same time, who do I ask first? I suppose it is much easier when there is only one person in your life you can even think of getting married to.'

This time, the ears of Peter's horse didn't move, nor did his face show any surprise. Had he expected this answer? That couldn't be, could it?

'I think it's a very wise decision to get married, Mr Hugo. And I think most people marry for love, but those that don't can be happy, too. Not if you do it to please your parents or for money or an inheritance, but if you marry someone you really like, someone you like to spend time with, why not? But forgive me if I don't believe you saying that you cannot love someone, sir, for to me you show every sign of being in love. You may be sickening with something instead, but I don't think so, you look healthy enough. You're absent minded, self involved, you didn't even scold Bruce when he'd left a rake lying about where someone could have broken their neck tripping over it. It's just not like you.'

Another man who thought he knew Hugo's heart better than he did himself? Probably something to do with being married, it was reputed to give men an air of importance, even towards their direct superior apparently. Changing the subject towards his companion was the only thing Hugo could think of to make himself less uncomfortable with what he didn't recognise at all.

'Even if Mr Langley may at first have felt his daughter was marrying beneath her, I'm certain he no longer does. You are an admirable man, Peter, and an outstanding horseman. If I wasn't attached to my position, I'd say you'd make as good a stable master as I do.'

Peter's horse registered his pleased surprise before Peter's face did.

'You think so? No, I may be as good a rider, and I can handle a few lads, but your driving skills are out of my reach and you have this sixth sense to appraise a horse's soundness. I couldn't possibly do that.'

'I don't think you'll ever need to be able to drive a team of four thoroughbreds through London, as future owner of a horse farm, but my sixth sense as you call it is not a miracle gift bestowed upon me: it's an instinct honed by experience, knowledge and skill, and you already have a large part of it. Why don't we spend some time sharpening yours the coming months, you'll see. If your father-in-law is indeed 'getting on a bit' he may want to get your missus and yourself more involved in the family business soon.'

By now, the horse had gotten used to Peter's restless seat and no longer reacted to his enthusiasm.

'You really think I could do that? Judge a horse's soundness without fail? Ten out of ten times?'

It really was to his credit that he seemed to care more about his skills with horses than inheriting a fortune in real estate and a generations-long respected line of quality hunters.

'I'd say you can do seven or eight out of ten already, and who knows, I may yet be wrong one day to even the score.'

Peter didn't believe that at all, and neither did Hugo. But by now they had reached the Langley farm, an ancient but magnificent cross between a castle and a cottage. It was obvious the owner was well-to-do and very fond of horses, for there were plenty of sleek, highly bred examples in sight. One, no, two, already had spindly new foals by their side, and plenty of others were clearly still carrying. For a moment, Hugo felt a stab of envy at Peter's luck to marry into this, but then an image of Caitlin appeared before his mind's eye and his jealous thoughts were replaced with shock.

Was it true then? Was he in love with an Irish refugee with a past of abuse and a child to make sure she never forgot?

'I don't know whether to look at this place with different eyes, or fear to disappoint my father-in-law even more, to be honest,' Peter said with a laugh, 'it never occurred to me before that Sarah would inherit all this, it always seemed like Mr Langley would live forever.'

'And maybe he will, but he will need someone to help him run it when he grows old, and with your missus already involved why shouldn't it be you? I really don't know a better horseman, Peter.'

'What about Bob?'

'He is the best driver I know, and I'd trust him with any horse, even a very nervous stud. But would he enjoy having to keep farmers and suppliers to their schedules, or discipline stable hands? I don't think so, but I think you would.'

A thoughtful nod was Peter's response, after which he took the lead towards a large wooden barn close to the house, where they both dismounted onto a cobbled yard. There were plenty of horses and people about, and Peter greeted them jovially. The response to his greeting was as Hugo expected, more how Mr Darcy would be received at the Pemberley stables if he were as outgoing and informal as Peter, not as stable hand to stable hand. Peter might not have calculated his chances of becoming an independent horse breeder through marriage, Mr Langley's staff treated the amiable man as the owner's son-in-law, not a fellow stable hand.

Oblivious to this and without calling anyone over to help or for instructions, Peter led his horse around the building to a small paddock in the shade of the barn. Once inside the paddock he tied it to the railing with the reins, then carefully removed the saddle and hung it over the railing. Hugo followed suit with his own horse, after which they removed the bridles to let the horses loose in the paddock.

'We can take the saddles inside with us and lay them in the hall, Sarah does that all the time, her mum is used to it. Or do you think we should bring them to the tack room? To make a good impression?'

'Let us keep them where they are suppose to be kept, Peter. We're not the daughter of the owner after all. You as good as are, but I dislike saddles laying about outside the tack room.'

Again, Peter nodded, he was probably already reconsidering his position in this household, he used to feel slightly inferior but right now he was aware that he might one day be to the staff here what Hugo was to the Pemberley stable hands. And of course that meant giving an excellent example even when it wasn't convenient.

The tack room was almost as impressive as Mr Darcy's, except that there was less evidence of a carriage team. Saddles and bridles neatly put away, Peter finally addressed a middle-aged man coming to greet them.

'We're not going to be long, Gilbert, we've put a pair of cobs in the small paddock and our tack where Mrs Norman keeps the spares. Have you met Mr Hugo, my boss? Mr Hugo, this is Gilbert, my father-in-law's first stable hand.'

They shook hands and said the usual polite things, and then Peter led Hugo across the cobbled yard to the house. Using the back door without knocking first, they entered a large, homely kitchen where Peter was received heartily by what Hugo guessed was the lady of the house. Mrs Langley was small and as thin as her daughter, though brunette rather than red haired. She was around fifty, Hugo knew from what Peter had told him, and she indeed had some wrinkles and a few strands of grey in her hair. Still she looked younger because of her trim and upright figure. Her dress was practical but well-made of expensive looking material. She seemed very kind, maybe a little less decided and firm than her daughter?

By the time the introductions had been made, Mr Langley had entered as well, he was tall and very broad shouldered, though also a bit wide around the waist and soft in his face. He looked as if his daughter had inherited his temper, but that might be a prejudice because his hair was as fiery red as hers, and only slightly thin on top though with quite a bit of grey. He did not look that old to Hugo, but he knew Peter's father-in-law was considerably older than his wife at a little over sixty. Which was possibly old enough not to want to do much straining labour, if one could afford to avoid it.

'Mr Hugo, I'm so pleased to see you! Peter and Sarah have told me a lot about you, and Peter has so much respect for everything you've taught him! Will you join me in my study? I think I have some good news for you, though of course we will have to visit to be certain. Will you join us as well, Peter?'

The next half hour they drank tea and talked of nothing but horses. Mr Langley had received a letter from one of his contacts, who had a team ready for sale that seemed to fulfil all Mr Darcy's wishes.

'I know your master would have preferred a rarer colour, but I think greys are always a pleasure to look at, and these are available almost by accident: my friend saw the first gelding on a livestock market he was attending without any plan to buy, but he just couldn't let such a handsome creature work itself to death in the mines, so he bought it, thinking to school it as a riding pony for a child. But when the friend he was with remarked it would make a nice pony for a small carriage, the farmer selling it mentioned he had a sibling just like it, another gelding but a year younger. So he bought that, too, and had them schooled together. Mind you, this friend of mine is a trader and these will not come as a bargain. But if he says they're suitable for a lady to drive you can be certain they are.'

That sounded almost too good to be true, and since the money wasn't his own, Hugo felt relieved the potential price spoiled the perfection just enough to make it actually possible: a horse trader chancing upon a pretty pair of ponies and having them schooled to make a good profit.

'Do you want Mr Darcy to come with us on our first visit?'

'I was hoping to take Peter, my friend has been wanting to meet my son-in-law, and I may have bragged a little about his accomplishments with horses.'

'And you want him to prove it. Well, I've just convinced Peter that the only way to improve his driving is to do more of it, so I guess we can use the occasion to let Bob teach him the finer points.'

'That would be perfect, I used to be all for riding, I only kept a little carriage for my missus, but these days I find cushions more comfortable than a saddle, and having a really superior driver in the family would make me feel more inclined to invest in a real team. Frankly, I would love to arrive in Mr Darcy's company, behind those thoroughbreds, it would make me the envy of my entire circle of friends. So if you can convince your master to come, please do.'

It would be about half an hour's drive, and they settled on the day after the next, if Mr Darcy was able to free himself on such short notice, with a house full of guests. Soon after, Hugo and Peter made ready to depart, Peter asking Hugo's permission to say goodbye to his mother-in-law.

'We will see each other soon enough, but I wouldn't like to make Mrs Langley feel as if only business matters. I promise I will not take long.'

Hugo nodded his assent and felt slightly envious of Peter again, to be part of a family had to be such a comfortable situation even for an adult man.

As soon as Peter had left, Mr Langley turned towards Hugo and said, 'You have done a marvellous job with that one, Mr Hugo. Though I understood what Sarah saw in him from the very first, I wondered whether he was the best choice, you know, because he had no worldly goods to offer her but also because he is so… so mild. I've always thought that a woman needs protecting, and I wanted my daughter to choose a man of character, preferably with his own farm or a thriving business.

But I've come to understand why their marriage works. Sarah has my character, with the dominant man I envisioned for her she would have fought constantly. Peter is much better suited to her temperament, and he thrives under her, and your, guidance. I hope you won't be angry with me if I tell you I'm planning to steal him away from you soon, I want to offer my daughter and him a share in our business. I'm starting to feel my age a little and Mrs Langley wants to see a bit of the world before we get too old to travel. The Lakes, and maybe London or Scotland, nothing fancy, you know, they have to speak the King's English wherever we are going, and know how to make a decent cup of tea. Which is why I hope you'll also agree to help Peter to set us up with a suitable carriage and horses to match. I'd like to travel safely and in style. Oh, that's Peter coming to fetch you, please don't tell him any of this, we're planning to introduce the subject with my daughter present.'

'He will hear nothing from me, Mr Langley, though I have already pointed out to him that he is married to the sole heir to a long-respected line of hunters. He didn't realise, but I'm afraid he does now, due to my remarks.'

'Oh, good, so he'll be prepared. I'm glad to hear he didn't suspect a thing, Sarah wanted him to learn what he could of running a stables without spoiling our bond as father and son. She really did marry the right man, didn't she? He's so good with their little boy, my generation didn't concern itself that much with our offspring before they could walk and talk. Though Sarah was hard to ignore and a better rider than myself from the age of ten.'

That was Ben's age, though he'd never learn to ride if Hugo didn't teach him.

Not knowing what to do with that thought popping up in his mind unasked-for, Hugo quickly imagined Sarah Norman as a child and succeeded beyond expectation: maybe because she had something girlish in her figure and demeanour still. To be fair, neither she nor Peter could possibly be older than twenty five.

When Peter did come back, they took leave of Mr Langley, reclaimed their cobs, and rode home as quickly as those sturdy horses could take them, Hugo eager for news and possibly an excuse to seek Caitlin out that very day.

But there was no news that day, and Hugo didn't dare leave Pemberley in the evening without a good reason. He had to give a good example, and whilst personal affairs could generally count on leniency from Mr Darcy, Hugo didn't want this to be personal, he just wanted to do the right thing for someone who deserved far better than she'd gotten from life so far.

It was difficult to think of something else, though, even in the lively common room with all the visiting staff. And when he retired to his own little room, snug and warm compared to Caitlin's sod-covered hut but rather bare and impersonal, it became virtually impossible to not relive last night in its confusing entirety.

Why had he betrayed his casual attitude towards marriage? It had seemed as if Caitlin had an interest in him beyond being her lover, and in an unguarded moment he had spoiled it and not even realised how bad that was. He had lost the right to protect her, to hold her, to talk to her about her horrible past and his own much quieter and happier youth. He still had to tell her about his time as a cavalry man, he desperately wanted to tell her, to see her nod in understanding, and to have her squeeze his hand slightly in support of the bad things he had been through, of the friends he'd lost and the atrocities he had witnessed.

Were those Englishmen right, the very young man and the sedate middle-aged man who both adored their wives? Was love not some huge wave to crash over a man, but the calm appreciation and admiration he had always felt for Caitlin's bravery under difficult circumstances? And her delightful personal assets, of course, her slim, strong body, her beautiful face framed in reddish blonde hair, her Irish accent, her passion, her loving nature?

How would he face her tomorrow, knowing he had underestimated his feelings for her? For he could not stop thinking about her, whether she had please taken her own advice to not stay in her isolated hut overnight, whether she would agree to take the cottage in Witham, whether she would allow him to help her move her things and build a high fence to keep her goats out of the village and in her own fields. Would the villagers accept an Irish, unmarried mother in their midst, even if she had the skills to save their lives and their children's?

He allowed himself to imagine what it would be like living there with her, using his spare time to till a few fields for winter feed, adapting the stable to Mr Darcy's standard to keep a horse overnight. Maybe they'd have a dog, all boys should have a dog, or maybe Ben didn't care about dogs and preferred a kitten. He could teach the boy to ride, and shoot, and go fishing together. And at night, he would lie in Caitlin's arms with his face in her bosom, blissfully happy for the rest of his life.

A Frenchman and an Irish woman, the village would have a fit. And Caitlin didn't want to be a man's property, though Hugo had been raised in an all-male household, he didn't have any preconceptions of a woman's place in life to offend Caitlin with. He wanted to share everything with her, responsibility as well as worldly goods. But still she didn't want him, because he hadn't realised he loved her and had spoken in haste and disregard of her feelings.

Eventually he fell asleep, but it was a restless sleep in which he dreamed of being shunned by villagers and his own colleagues for being French, even Mrs Reynolds and Mrs Eliot turning away from him when he wanted to chat. When he sought the solace of his own room it was no longer warm and comfortable, the window had been replaced with a piece of oiled cloth and the floor was made of dirt, the hearth cold and dead and a narrow, sagged cot the only piece of furniture. He knew he would spend the rest of his life there, cold and alone, yearning for the woman he couldn't have but no longer willing to settle for a marriage of convenience to anyone else when he had finally found someone he could love.