Cut to the Quick by Kate Ross Page B

at climbing out the window and down that tree, but the gardeners saw the broken branches and my footsteps in the ground, and they peached on me to Uncle Robert.” He grinned mischievously. “Well, that was a long time ago. Nowadays I can get in and out at night without climbing through windows. I use the back door in the servants’ wing. There are dogs loose at night, but they know me, so they don’t give me any trouble.” He yawned. “Well, I’d better get a few hours’ sleep. Are you going to the horse fair in the morning?”
    “I think Hugh’s planning to take me.”
    “Good. We can make a party of it—the two of you and the colonel and me. At least it’ll keep us away from Bellegarde until luncheon. Mornings are the very devil here these days. Whey-faced ladies are always calling to have a look at Miss Craddock and find out how much her rich papa’s spending on her wedding. Poor Hugh!”
    *
    “Time to wake up, sir,” Dipper ventured.
    “What time is it?” came a sepulchral voice from under the bedclothes.
    “Seven o’clock, sir.”
    “Oh, my God. ” Julian dragged himself out from under the covers. “Don’t—” he began, but Dipper was already parting the window curtains. Julian dove under the sheet again to block out the light. “It’s appalling,” he groaned, “simply appalling, to think that anyone was ever so benighted as to worship the sun. Dipper, if I ever tell you I mean to have a house in the country, immerse me in cold baths and singe me with mustard plasters till my sanity returns.”
    Dipper was glad to find him in such a tractable mood. When Mr. Kestrel was really out of temper, he did not mock or complain, but went about in a tautly strung silence more disturbing than any show of rage.
    At eight o'clock, Julian came down to breakfast impeccably dressed in riding clothes. The meal passed off with an uneasy, "everyone-on-his-best-behaviour” sort of calm. Afterward, Guy, Hugh, Julian, and Colonel Fontclair set off for the horse fair.
    “I'm so glad it's turned out such a beautiful day,” said Lady Fontclair as they were leaving. M Hugh, what would you say to taking Mr. Kestrel round the estate this afternoon, if you’re not too tired after the horse fair?”
    “That's a capital idea,” Hugh agreed.
    “Well, enjoy yourselves, all of you, and don't, I pray you, stand about in the sun without your hats. I’ll have hock and seltzer water waiting for you when you come home. Good-bye!”
    *
    It was, indeed, a lovely day—the kind of day to win over even a confirmed city-dweller like Julian. The colours of the country dazzled him, after London's myriad shades of grey. Oaks and elms spread their lacy crowns against a sky of vivid cornflower blue. Spotted cows browsed in brilliant green meadows, bounded by roads of a warm, rich brown. Here and there, set back from the road, were cottages of whitewashed brick, with ivy-covered fences and steep thatched roofs.
    Julian and Hugh were riding side by side. At one point, Hugh slowed his horse's pace, letting Guy and Geoffrey ride on ahead. “I want to tell you how sorry I am about last night,” he said to Julian. “You shouldn't have had to see that fit of temper of Aunt Catherine's. I daresay I oughtn’t to have invited you to Bellegarde at all. Things are so awkward right now—anything might happen.”
    “Is this a delicate way of saying you’d like me to arrange to be called back to London unexpectedly?”
    “Oh, no! No, I hope you’ll stay. It's very selfish of me, of course. Apart from the fact that it’s great fun having you, your being here has a moderating influence on people. You may not think so after last night, but, believe me, things would probably be much worse if you weren't here.”
    “Is that why you invited me?”
    “Yes,” Hugh admitted. “I never thought for a moment you’d really come. I just thought you seemed so—I don’t know, detached and sensible and able to keep a clear head about things. And