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investigated the school rooms upstairs and found them admirable. Emily supposed a governess would have to be employed to continue their education. She intended to be far too busy learning how to be a polished lady of the ton instead of a country mouse.
    Becoming bored with her book Emily rang for Jenny. 'I'm going out for a walk; I wish to change into my brown walking dress and pelisse.'
    'But that's so old, miss. You cannot wear such an outfit here.' Jenny was shocked to the core by such a suggestion.
    'Fustian, Jenny. I have no other suitable for a long walk in the grounds. A mantua maker has been sent for from London but, until she arrives, and starts refurbishing our wardrobes, we must wear what we have, or stay shut up in our rooms all day.'
    Stoutly shod in scuffed black half boots, an old chip straw bonnet rammed on her head, she was ready to venture out. Jenny was left behind. Emily did not consider that walking about the garden warranted a maid to accompany her.
    A series of attentive young footmen sprung to attention at her footsteps and doors were opened and closed like clock work. It was lucky that she, unlike most of her sex, had been blessed with good sense of direction and an excellent visual memory. She arrived in the Grand Hall without getting herself lost once. The frosty faced butler, Penfold, materialized beside her.
    'Is, Miss Gibson , going outside might I enquire?'
    Emily almost looked round to see if Miss Gibson was accompanying her and was forced to cover her involuntary snigger by diving into her reticule. 'I am intending to take a walk around the park before it gets too dark.' She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking the self-important gentleman for permission to go out.
    'Will, Miss Gibson, require an escort on her perambulations?'
    'No, she will not.' Emily hurried to the front door and two footman opened it with a flourish and bowed her through, like royalty.
    She ran down the steps and her tinkling laughter was clearly heard by Sebastian, just returning from his ride, and about to take his magnificent chestnut stallion, Sultan, back to the stable yard. Instead he sent the horse skittering around the corner, scattering gravel and dirt, to investigate.
    The sound of a horse approaching made Emily pause and she turned to face the noise. Judging by the stamping and the jangling, the animal approaching was large and spirited. Exactly the kind of horse she liked to ride herself.
    Sultan danced, snorting, around the corner of the building, arriving at exactly the same time as she did. The horse, startled by her sudden appearance, half reared, and Sebastian swore loudly, expecting to have a fainting female collapse under his horse's massive hooves.
    Emily laughed again, stepped sideways, and reached up to take the horse's bit. 'Steady, old fellow. Nothing to get so excited about.' She placed her free hand on the stallion's nose and brought it down to her level. 'You're a handsome boy, are you not?' She breathed, open mouthed into the horse's flaring nostrils, the odd action establishing an instant rapport with the normally savage beast.
    Up to that point she had quite forgotten that the horse had not arrived alone. She had been so occupied making friends she had not heard his rider dismount.
    'What the hell do you think you are doing? Do you want to be killed, you stupid girl?'
     Emily found herself nose to nose with a furious man with blazing blue eyes. 'How dare you speak to me like that? I am not a serving maid.' They glared at each other, her huge hazel eyes glittered with righteous indignation.
    Sultan, resenting the attention being taken from himself, lowered his head and nudged Emily firmly on the back. The unexpected push sent her flying into a solid wall of muscle. Sebastian, unprepared was unable to brace himself and he lost his balance and they tumbled backwards on to the ground.
    The language he used was quite new to Emily. Her landing had been far softer than his; she was