Chapter 12
She started as she realised what she was thinking. Dumbly, she took the hat Avebury proffered. She stared blankly at her handkerchief, now adorned with mud and grass, all of it wiped from her chin and neck.
“Lady Catherine? Are you well?”
“Why – yes,” she stammered. “Quite all right. Just … daydreaming.” She put on her hat. “There. We can pretend my hair isn’t a mess. Is there mud on my face still?”
Avebury bent to brush away something from close to one ear. “All gone.”
“Thank you,” Catherine said, her voice faint. She was disconcerted. This was all very strange. She was unaccustomed to feeling self-conscious in front of him. Even though she leant against him, grabbed his hand for support, let him help her up to and down from her mount – he was so casual, almost brotherly.
