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of stabling—either constructing a stable at Ivy Cottage or paying to have the animal stabled elsewhere—she hadn’t the means to keep so much as a pony, let alone a horse Edmund could grow in to.
    She exhaled a quick puff of breath and rose from the desk, crossing the sitting room to the tall eastern windows. The sun had long since set, and the children were sleeping in their rooms above. Even Suzie had retired for the night, leaving Clara the sole member of the household still awake. She looked through the windows into the darkness outside.
    Dear, sweet Edmund.
    “There has to be a way to secure a mount for the boy,” Clara told herself yet again.
    Far into the dark night a light shimmered, no doubt flickering through the many windows of Havenworth, too distant for details but near enough for the light to be seen. That estate must have seemed the very picture of heaven to young Edmund. It was a beautiful home, small when compared to the grand estates of the aristocracy but far too grand to be labeled “quaint” as Ivy Cottage was. The grounds were lush, the trees near the house tall and majestic. Havenworth’s stables were at least as expansive as the house itself—home to quite a number of fine horses and ponies.
    One of the distant lights extinguished. Havenworth was turning in for the night. Did Mr. Jonquil realize she could see his home from Ivy Cottage? She imagined not. He certainly had more important things to do with his time. He’d made that abundantly clear during his afternoon call the week before.
    Clara leaned against the window frame. If she thought on the problem long enough, surely a solution would present itself.
    Edmund had inherited an income from his late father. Most of that would not come to him until he reached his majority, some fourteen years down the road. In the meantime, the boy received a quarterly stipend, enough that, were she to tap deeply into the account, they could live more comfortably than they were. Clara, however, was determined not to use a single halfpenny more than she absolutely had to. That money was all he had to secure his future and allow him to attend Eton without the degradation of doing so as a charity student. Despite their straitened circumstances, Edmund had something to fall back on. Alice didn’t even have that.
    She would one day require a dowry if she ever meant to marry. A dowry did not guarantee marital happiness, Clara knew well, but she would not force Alice into a life of misery for the sake of connections or family pride. She valued her children’s happiness above such things. So if Alice never met anyone she could trust enough to treat her with kindness and respect, she would need an income to live on. Here was yet another expense Clara was ill-prepared to meet.
    The dowry could wait. But Edmund really ought to learn to ride. She simply could not think of a way to accomplish the feat.
    The last light at Havenworth extinguished, bathing the countryside in black. Only the single candle lit in the sitting room broke the darkness. She took the candle and slowly made her way up the stairs to her room. She undressed methodically, her mind heavy, and sat on the edge of her bed in her warm, flannel nightdress, her bare toes cold in the chilly night air.
    She blew out the candle and lay back on her pillow. She had her faults, heaven knew, but she had always been determined. Somehow, she would give her children what they deserved.
    She just simply had no idea how.

Chapter Five
    Philip and Sorrel had reached Scotland and would be meeting with Dr. MacAslon in a few days’ time. Not an ounce of the frustration Corbin felt with his eldest brother abated as he read the letter that had only just arrived. Five days had passed since the episode at church.
    “You need to catch her eye,” Philip had said. “Stand out from the crowd,” he’d insisted.
    Corbin, like a dolt, had gone along with the entire harebrained idea. He and Philip were of a size, similar