The Rocking Horse: A Regency Novella Read Online Free PDF

of her mistress. When she learned of Jocelyn's plan to explore the estate, she outfitted her in a red-and-white striped moiré walking dress with a red pelisse trimmed in swans-down and insisted she wear her red kid half boots and gloves.
    Jocelyn's protests that the outfit was not conducive to brisk walking fell upon deaf ears. No lady should ever walk briskly, Miss Barnes told her. Jocelyn wondered why she'd never noticed Miss Barnes's managing manner before. She did not protest, for she was not certain the woman was wrong. A relaxation of standards between city and country could, Jocelyn supposed, have detrimental effects on the impressions of others. That would not do. And she had yet to meet Mrs. Bayne, Charles's mother. She did not know why, but she was not eager to meet Mrs. Bayne. No one ever spoke badly of the woman. Then again, no one ever spoke well, either. Charles's own attitude confused Jocelyn. He rarely came to Bayneville to visit and when he came, he kept his visits brief. And she knew he had no intention to remain at Bayneville long past Christmas Day while she was to remain another week. Was his reluctance aimed at his mother or his cousin? After meeting Tarkington she could not see how he could discommode Charles.
    If she were to become engaged to Charles—as everyone supposed would be a result of her visit at Bayneville—then it was best she do nothing that might give her future mother-in-law, or Tarkington as head of the family, a distaste of her. She must remain worthy of Charles; after all, he was destined for great notice and deeds in government, and he was—as her mother mentioned—Tarkington's heir.
    Now, why should that last thought depress her?
    Sedately she descended the house's rear terrace steps to the courtyard that separated the Bayneville outbuildings from the main house. Asking a young groom to point her in the direction of the topiary garden, she sauntered in that direction, her enthusiasm for exploring dimmed by etiquette and society rules. She felt hemmed in and constrained. While she realized her circumstances were no different than she experienced in London, she felt ill at ease. She hoped the cold, brisk December air would blow through her beleaguered mind and bring respite.
    How odd, she mused, her lips curving up into a gentle smile. Even before she arrived at Bayneville she'd been looking for it to offer some medicine, some remedy for her jumbled thoughts.
    The sounds of a child's laughter drew her eyes up. There, not ten feet away, crouched the marques behind an intricately molded bush resembling some exotic bird. She almost spoke, but a quick wave of his hand and conspiratorial wink silenced her. She smiled and audaciously winked in return before continuing forward, this time pretending to examine the bushes in great detail.
    "I'm coming, Papa!" rang out a high, young voice from behind a baby elephant-shaped bush. The voice was followed by the appearance of a little girl with large brown eyes and thick, wavy brown hair falling free of its ribbon and threatening to hide her tiny heart-shaped face. A bonnet hanging by its neck ribbon bounced on her back as she ran.
    She and Jocelyn both stopped and stared at each other, solemnly considering. The little girl popped a thumb in her mouth, her fingers curling around her nose as she stared at Jocelyn. Then the child dropped her hand to her side and smiled. "Hello. What's your name?"
    Jocelyn's smile answered the child's. "Jocelyn Maybrey."
    "I'm Anne," the child said forthrightly. "Have you seen Papa?"
    Jocelyn squatted down by the child, pulling the bonnet back into place and retying its ribbon. "Well, I don't know. I might. What kind of animal is a papa?"
    Gales of childish giggles burst out of the little girl. She fell backward on the ground, rolling from side to side.
    "Oh, please. Mustn't do that or you'll get sick like your aunt Lady Mary." She pulled her up and brushed the loose grass and leaves from her dark blue coat.
    "No,