Sera let the chestnut trot, then canter, as they twisted and turned among the trees. The beast changed leads naturally, and had a certain military grace to him. That was when it hit Jeffers where he had seen the animal before. He was one of Major Kurtland’s war-horses. At least he shouldn’t spook over nothing, but who could guess what bad habits he had picked up in the cavalry?
Still, the horse seemed to be following Sera’s commands until they came to a straight stretch of trail and the beast appeared to miscalculate. He would surely carry the girl right into a tree! Just as Jeffers was about to yell a warning, Sera gave the left rein a yank and caught the beast a rap across the left ear with her whip. The chestnut went down on his right shoulder, and Sera hopped off before he could recover himself. When the horse stood, he looked around suspiciously.
“Yes, it was me, you fool. That’s the oldest trick a horse has ever invented. Don’t try it again.”
That strange voice, low and penetrating, was now surely coming from Sera. The horse regarded her with new respect, as did Jeffers. “Are you hurt, m’lady?” he asked, dismounting.
“No, of course not. I do not think I have hurt his mouth too badly. I would never do that to a young horse, and a cut across the ears could ruin a novice, but he had it coming. I think we shall give him one more go at this stretch and then call it quits for today.”
“You don’t mean to get back on? I just remembered who he is. They call him Satan at Kurtland’s stable.”
“No, I think Satin would be better, Red Satin. And of course I will ride him home.”
“You will scare Lord Cairnbrooke to death if he sees you on this horse.”
“Do you think so? Then we have bought the right one. Now give me a leg up.”
Jeffers complied and trotted after his mistress, beginning to be a little afraid of what she had in mind. She turned the horse and rode him straight at the same tree, as Jeffers looked on.
A shout of “Don’t even think about it!” made Satin’s ears prick back, but his eyes did not again stray to the tempting limb. Sera praised him fulsomely for not trying to kill her again and let him walk to cool down a little.
“This does not make him safe, you know,” Jeffers warned.
“I expect he will try it at least once more.”
“Where did you learn that trick?”
“From Chadwick. You are sure he is coming back?”
“I know he has not been dismissed, but he did not say where he was going. You could ask Lord Cairnbrooke.”
“Without knowing the answer, it’s not a safe question. So few of them are,” Sera confided. “Tony is a man of deeds, not words. Makes it very hard to communicate with him sometimes. I never really know what’s eating at him.”
Jeffers looked bleak at this news, and he followed Sera, leading the bay and hoping his employer would not see them until he could prepare him for the news.
* * *
When Sera came in, glowing from her ride and full of plans for worrying Tony, she found Armand Travesian sitting with Lady Amanda, and Lady Amanda laughing. Sera had never before seen her mother-in-law blush, but Armand could charm anyone.
“You have been so busy getting married and moving about, you have been neglecting me,” he complained as he hugged her and kissed her cheek.
“How is your wretched play coming?” she asked as she sat in a chair, leaving him with Lady Amanda on the sofa.
“Tolerably. It could use a woman’s touch. We are having a bit of trouble with the costumes.”
“I will bring Marie to you. She will soon put things right.”
“Armand tells me you have an interest in the theater.”
Sera did not know quite how to interpret this. She did indeed own half of the Agora—it was an arrangement not even her father knew about—but she did not think Armand would be so indiscreet as to say so.
“We should all take an interest in good theater, ma’am, if we expect there to be any,” Sera countered.
“The world of the theater must be so exciting,” Lady Amanda gushed. “What is your favorite role? You are an actor yourself, are you not, Armand?”
“It’s so difficult to say. I must in my lifetime have played fifty leads.”
“Which one does he do the best?” Lady Amanda appealed to Sera, who had poured herself a cup of tea.
“Without question, the role he plays best of all is that of Armand Travesian,” she said with a twinkle. “The others are pale shadows compared to the force of that character.”
“A compliment?” Travesian asked.
“I’m sure you will twist it into one if it is not,” Sera said blithely.
“You are in rare form today, dear Sera, and, if I may say so, nearly as lovely with that bloom in your cheeks as Lady Amanda.”
Lady Amanda blushed becomingly, and Sera smiled at Travesian. No other man could bring out the best in a woman as he could.
Lady Amanda sobered herself. “I am not so flustered as to forget that you are an actor, sir, and such compliments trip easily from your tongue,” said Lady Amanda with mock dignity.
“Not so, dear ma’am. I am a very constant fellow. Ask this lady, who knows me well.”
“True,” Sera said with a wink. “He has been forever telling me how much he loves me.”
Lady Amanda giggled.
“That is a fatherly-brotherly love, not the mature affection that I feel for—”
Tony entered just then, and Sera hastened to make introductions. Armand did not stay long under Tony’s withering gaze, but Tony’s mother scarcely noticed this. Lady Amanda saw Travesian to the door, then tripped up the stairs, humming to herself.
“Who is that fellow, anyway?”
“A friend of my father’s. I have known him since I was fifteen.”
“That is no excuse for inviting him here.”
“He only paid a morning call. If you have decided to dislike him on two minutes’ acquaintance, I certainly will not invite him to dinner.”
“I didn’t say I disliked him.”
“No, but you showed it. A man with a less generous nature would have been offended.”
“I don’t think a man like Travesian can be offended.”
“I wonder if you may be right,” Sera said, quite unexpectedly. She could feel a fight brewing, and she saw no point in it, for she could see Armand any time she wanted to at the Agora. “Now that I think of it, I have seen him turn the most blatant of insults into a joke. I believe I learned the trick of it from him.”
This called to Tony’s mind Sera’s besting of Madeleine in Brighton, and his own more recent encounter with the woman. His simple greeting had gone beyond what he had intended, and he could now see how someone might have interpreted it as dalliance, just as he might have misinterpreted Sera’s laughter at Travesian’s wit.
“You don’t particularly like him, then?” Tony asked uncertainly.
“I respect him for what he is good at, producing plays. I will not invite him here, if you have no taste for such joviality. Many people see it as forced. But you have to remember, he was an actor once himself. He tends to overplay every scene.”
“If he calls, I suppose there is nothing you can do about