Rexanne Becnel Read Online Free PDF

that?” she murmured. “Perhaps this will prove a worthwhile visit for both you and your mother.”
    Olivia only gave her a noncommittal smile.
    Fortunately their party did not go on too late. The next morning would be an early one for the gentlemen as most of the racing animals had arrived in Doncaster, and they all wished to observe the training runs. Much money would be bet on the main race, as well as on the several lesser races and side matches that always popped up. Everyone expected their wagers to come out to the good, and so they all meant
to watch and listen and augment their hunches with the best tips to be had.
    So it was early to bed. Yet weary as her body was from their journey, Olivia’s mind was not quite ready for sleep. She’d dozed off and on during their journey, and now her mind spun. But it was not the races and the society of Doncaster that had her in such a state, though she adored horses and prided herself on her firm seat in the saddle. It was thoughts of Byrde Manor. Riding a prescribed track on a very fast horse was all well and good. But a long ramble on a spirited animal through the stunning Cheviot Hills was much more to her liking.
    When finally she fell asleep, it was to dream of crisp morning air and exhilarating countryside, of hawthorns and towering sycamores, and the haunting cries of terns and red kites and cormorants.
    But sleep did not last long. Olivia awoke before dawn to the muted sound of horses’ hooves and masculine voices. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Even with all the racing excitement, she wouldn’t have expected the men to be leaving quite this early.
    Rising, she peered down from her window into the rear courtyard, but it was empty. Restless, she stared around her, then listened at the door between her room and her mother’s. In the heavily curtained bed her mother slept on, her breathing slow and regular. Augusta believed in her beauty sleep, and it certainly seemed to work. She should try to do the same, Olivia told herself. But she knew she would not be able to doze off again.
    Somewhere in the house a clock tolled the hour. Five o’clock. She stretched her arms high, then sighed. She was up, so she might as well dress herself. Perhaps she would take a turn in the little park she’d spied on the east side of the house. She hadn’t been up before dawn since they’d gone down to London. Awaiting the sunrise would be a pleasant diversion.
    She dressed in the dark in a simple muslin gown, pale green with cream-colored ruching at the neckline. A quick brush through her hair and hurried ablutions at the washstand completed
her toilette. Then she slipped on her walking shoes and a light shawl, and at the last moment also snatched up her journal. Perhaps she’d enter her observations about Lord Holdsworth and the other two gentlemen she’d met last night.
    Locating the stairs was easy, locating a door to the outdoors far less so. The sprawling house was even more confusing from within than from without. When she spied a light through a door standing partially ajar, she headed straight for it. Someone was up and about, probably a servant. Perhaps they would direct her.
    The door, painted pretentiously enough in faux marble, opened on silent hinges to reveal a spacious library, and Olivia’s eyes widened in delight. On a huge center table a host of books sprawled, mostly volumes on horses and racing, she saw. An empty tumbler sat beside a brace of candles that cast an amber glow across walls lined to the ceiling with leather-bound tomes. The window drapery was thrown open to the darkness beyond, but the room was empty. It must be as she’d supposed. The men had left for Doncaster after reviewing their research on the racehorses.
    She moved farther into the room, forgetting about her walk. She’d not expected to discover such a large library here. In truth, she’d half-expected Penny Cummings to be illiterate. That was unkind, she scolded herself. And uncalled