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russet. Sheep with black faces glancedup to watch them pass.

“Quiet out here,” he ventured as they crossed the field.

“Now,” she acknowledged. “But you should have seen the areaa few weeks ago when the farmers were trying to get in the hay before the rainscame. Some of my older students had to stay home and either help or watchyounger ones so both parents could work.”

“And now these fields are my responsibility,” he mused, gazegoing off across the Downs. “I didn’t think about it when Father was alive: allour properties, all our tenants. Mercer, our steward, tells me we have morethan two hundred people depending on us, and that doesn’t count their children.As viscount, I must see to their wellbeing.”

Hester raised her brows. “No one man can care for more thantwo hundred people.”

By the way his shoulders slumped,he had been trying to do just that. “I have a team of men at each location andMercer to oversee them. But he still brings all decisions to me. I find it aremarkably heavy burden.”

She didn’t need Rosemary’s lorgnette to see that. Even hiseyes sagged with the weight of it. “What will you do?”

His smile was sad. “What can I do? I am the viscount. I mustrise to the occasion. There is no one else.”

She reached across the distance and brushed his shoulderwith her hand. “You have always been clever. You’ll find a way. It might not bethe way of your father or brother, but it will suffice.”

He nodded, then straightened, and her hand fell back.

“Enough of the maudlin,” he declared. “See that tree upahead?”

Hester followed his gaze to the wide-spreading branches ofan oak, the leaves crimson now with autumn. “Yes. What about it?”

“How fast can we reach it?”

“How fast?” Hester asked, fingers tightening on the reins.“Do you mean to race?”

The charming smile she remembered popped into view. “Ofcourse. The first one to pass the tree wins a kiss.”

Heat thrummed through her veins. She should refuse. She mustrefuse.

She didn’t want to refuse.

“From whomever she chooses,” she amended. “You’re on.” Sheclapped her heel against the bay’s side, and the mare leaped forward. Over thethundering hooves, she thought she heard Rob’s cry.

She bent forward, urged the mare faster. The wind stung hercheeks, pulled her hair from her pins to send it streaming away from her face.The thunder grew louder as Rob’s horse pounded closer.

“Come on, girl,” she urged. “Just a little farther.”

She passed the tree in a flash, then slowed her mount tocircle back.

Rob was waiting for her, smile proud.

“You won,” he said. “I am ready to surrender my kiss.”

That look declared as much. His gaze roamed over her face tofix upon her lips.

“I said the lady may choose whom she kisses,” she remindedhim, giving her mount a pat and willing her heart to cease its frantic beat.“What if I were to choose Rebecca?”

He crumpled over his saddle. “Rebecca! Ah, to have come soclose to perfection and fallen short.”

Hester laughed. “You were the one to suggest a race.”

He straightened and edged his mount closer. “But you decidedthe true winner. Can I say nothing to convince you to change your mind? Kissingme might be more invigorating than kissing your daughter.”

She remembered. She was leaning toward him before shethought better of it.

He met her halfway. His lips brushed hers, soft and gentle.His sigh tingled against her mouth. Oh, the delight, the joy, the wonder.

Her mare was wiser than she was, for the horse moved awayfrom Rob’s, breaking the kiss. Hester gathered her dignity with the reins. “Itseems we are not above old habits.”

“You are far more than an old habit,” he murmured, gaze caressingher face. “You are the very air I breathe.”

So easy to fall into that gaze, into those arms.

“Those are not the words of a friend, sir,” she said primly.

“Perhaps not,” he allowed. “Perhaps I want more.”

Her pulse would not be still. But if he could issue achallenge, so could she.

“What more can there be between a viscount and a widowteaching at a dame school?” she demanded.

“That,” he said, “is entirely up to you.”

Was it? So little in her life had seemed her choice. She hadnot chosen to move to Upper Grace on her father’s death. She had not chosen forRob to leave her behind. She had agreed to marry Jasper, but she certainlyhadn’t chosen to be left a widow. Even her teaching job was only because Rosemaryhad been deemed unsuitable.

“I think it is something the two of us must decide,” shecountered. “For a lady like myself, when it comes to a gentleman, there isfriendship, and there is courtship. If you will not have the one, are youwilling to consider the other? Only you can answer that, Rob.”

He was silent, gazing at her with that yearning in his eyes,and all of her cried out. She hadn’t been good enough for him then. It seemedshe wasn’t good enough for him now. Why had she thought things might bedifferent between them?

Once more, she clapped her heel to her mount and fled, butthis time she left him behind.

~~~

He wasn’t as clever as she’d named him, for all Rob could dowas sit in the saddle and stare as Hester’s horse carried her away from him.Her question had caught him off guard. He’d been too stunned to think.

He could pursue her, but he hadn’t been able to catch herthe first time they’d raced a few minutes ago. He doubted he could catch herthe second. And, if he did manage to catch her, what would he say to her?

Was he willing to court her, to marry her, to be a husbandand father?

He certainly wasn’t making a very goodviscount. He’d eagerly agreed to this meeting when he was to weigh alldecisions. He must protect his holdings, his tenants and staff, and his family.

He also had to secure his line.

There was that. The Peverell lineage had gone from having anheir and a spare, as some called it, to Rob being the last. No distant cousinwaited in the wings, to his knowledge. Perhaps the College of Heralds might beable to scare one up, but where did

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