Chapter 3

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It had been a week since her arrival at Wimbledon manor. Most of the days she had spent in Eloise's company, who had quickly become her confidant. They had gotten into routine of horse riding in the morning, spending the afternoon in library reading plays or writing correspondence and then taking long walks in surrounding meadows until it was time for evening tea.

Today Katherine had to break the routine, for Eloise had been unwell. She had confined herself to her room for good part of the evening yesterday. Whatever ailed her, was likely to keep her in confinement today as well. So She had decided to go horse riding without her.

Most mornings Katherine woke up earlier then sunrise. However, she didn't wish to cause Eloise inconvenience by waking her up as early as her. Thus, they always went for riding half past eight, after the breakfast together.

Since she had risen before sunrise, she didn't want to awaken the servants and request for a groom to accompany her, like they'd done every morning. She was more than capable of handling herself.

She had kept a few pairs of each of her parents clothing. Since her parents never sat for any miniatures or portraits, these were the only tokens of memories she had left.

She donned her father's shirt and trousers. Then she put on a flat cap, shoving all her hair underneath it and fastening it with pins on the side to hold it in place. she didn't waste time on forming a bun or coiffures. If her hair came loose, she will let it run wild and enjoy the morning breeze run through it. She could always roll it back under the cap once she got closer to the estate so as not to be recognized. She looked over herself as she tightened the gusset ties in the back of her trousers. Her clothes were bit oversized for her short stature, but it worked as a perfect guise. To an onlooker from a distance she might appear like a young buck just out of his breeches.

When she reached the stables, She picked the first horse she saw and began to prepare it for the ride. She wasn't a very experienced rider as her parents had never kept a stable, due to expense. They preferred to rent horses when needed, from the village inn.

As her horse took its first gallop towards the meadow she could smell sweet scent of wild flowers laced in crisp morning breeze. She was careful to follow her usual path through the meadows, so as not get lost, and had managed to ride in the woods very well. Just as she was beginning to ease the horse's strides, she heard faint sound of horse hooves coming towards her from a distant, probably another rider enjoying an early morning ride.

She moved her foot to squeeze her stallion, to quicken her pace. Whoever it was, she had no wish to encounter them. When after a mile, she could still sense the stalker following her she got alarmed. Being an inexperienced rider she didn't want to risk looking back and loose grip of her horse. It was best to loose the stalker and circle back to Wimbledon manor, where she knew she would be safe. She squeezed her stallion until it was practically flying. Whoever was chasing her was relentless, for they too had quickened their pace and were getting closer by the second. Unfortunately, they were more efficient than her and caught up-to her very quickly. Then she heard a male grunt and her fingers almost froze with fear. What if it was some blackguard who wished to abduct her and do with her as he pleased? No, she wouldn't give up so easily. She would rather gallop off a cliff then surrender to such fate. Her plight was worsened when her pins came loose and her cap had fallen off, leaving her long hair in a disarray.

When the wind picked up making her hair dance in-front of her eyes in mad furry, she could not see clearly. And before she knew it, she had lost her grip on the reins and tumbled off her horse with a loud thud. The horse was her only means of escape, and without it she was left helpless on the ground.

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Arthur paced across his bed chamber unable to sleep. Recent events in his life had given him much anxiety to properly sleep these days. His father was dying of consumption and his physician had ruled out any hope of cure. He had but a few months to live. But that was not what worried him the most. Disappointing him and not living up-to the expectations of being the Marquesas of Staffordshire was what kept him up at night.

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