Chapter 15
As they approached Southwell, Jemima felt a surge of excitement within her breast. After all, this was an adventure. It was not in her nature to remain subdued for long.
The countryside was beautiful: the rolling green downs would be wonderful for riding. She burned to ride again. There had been so little opportunity in the years since her parents had died and Jemima had been forced to leave Ireland. Aunt Harlington had not kept horses, nor had she considered riding a suitable or necessary pursuit for her charge. Lord Elstone owned stables but Kitty was not the born horsewoman that Jemima was. The horses they occasionally rode were dear animals, but slow and old.
Dusk was falling as the carriage reached the long driveway that led to Southwell. Jemima was enraptured by the sig
