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to this. Does
that show you as a fool or one who thinks she will best me?"
    "Time will tell, my lord," she said.
It was a lame answer, but perhaps better than nothing.
    "But of course it will." He dipped his
head briefly. "Shall we continue? We do not have far to go." He
didn't wait for her answer, but turned his horse and led the way down a narrow
grass-covered lane. Why should he wait?
Where would I go? The track through the woods had meandered so much she
wasn't sure in which direction they had travelled. The sky had clouded over and
the sun had disappeared, so there was no help there. Catherine estimated they
had been travelling for over an hour, but that gave no assistance in working
out where they were, when their route had been so complicated. She set her
horse to walk behind his.
    He had been correct in his statement, she
realized a few minutes later. The track had stopped abruptly at a tall stone
wall which had a large wooden door set in it.
    "Wait one moment," he commanded as she
pulled Misty up next to him. "I need to unlock it." She hadn’t
noticed the large lock set in it.
    Brook produced a key, and within moments the
door swung open. There was no dragging, or grating: it was either well used or
had been prepared for their arrival.
    "After you. I need to relock this, we need no unwanted
visitors." He was as good as his word.
    Catherine looked around, but to her secret
amusement, realized a row of high hedges meant there was nothing to see except
the wall or the said hedge. In a strange was she was beginning to enjoy
herself. For too long she had been the one with all the responsibilities, the
one to whom every one looked for decisions and answers. With a jolt of clarity,
she accepted she had wanted to come
to Brook. Otherwise she would have told her brother to sort his own debt, and
just continued to care for her mama and sisters. Even if all that was not
entailed was lost, their lifestyle would have been reduced, but acceptable.
Catherine had handled the household finances since her father died and although
she had no control over Jermyn's portion, by skillful management the fortunes
of the ladies of the family were thriving. It was the loss of face that would
have been hard to bear. That fact, combined with the fact that she missed Brook
had swayed her. So here she was, waiting to see what he intended.
    "Not long, and then you can bathe and
eat," he said and once more took the lead.
    "The proposition?" she asked as she,
as ever, followed him. "When will I find out what I have to do?" That was perhaps not the best wording I
could have used . Her cheeks were warm, as she realized how her words could
be construed.
    Brook twisted in the saddle. "Impatient? I
like that."
    If she had a knife it would be lodged in his
body. He was enjoying torturing her.
    Not at all," she said, striving for boredom
and sure she didn't achieve it. "I was but wondering." Her temper
broke. "Grief, Brook, do you not think you have goaded me long enough?
This is not of my doing, but I am the one who is reaping the repercussions. For
the love of God, what happens next?"
    He turned his horse through a gap in the hedge,
onto another pathway surrounded by hedges.
    "We get out of the maze and into the house.
We bathe—I accept separately, unless you say otherwise—we eat and then we talk. In that order." He turned his back on her and
urged his horse onwards.   Catherine had
no recourse but to follow. Her mind reeled with his statements. Bathe together? People bathed together? Oh
my. She wasn't going to think of that.

 
    Chapter Six
     
    Brook turned the final corner out of the maze
and the house came into view. The gasp he heard from Catherine well satisfied
him. Small, only four bedrooms, and three reception rooms, he had bought it
when he first met her all those years ago. It was to have been their getaway. Their place to be alone and escape from duties. When she had
refused him, he had to his surprise used the house in the way he had