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“I have a hankering for a cup of tea,” Reuben addressed his aunt. “I think Mr. Higgins can finish up here, can you not?”

The gardener nodded vigorously, sending a grateful look his way. Reuben glanced down. Whatever Aunt Jean thought she was doing, all she had managed to do was dig a large pile of dirt out from around the tree—and it looked as though she had been using her hands as he saw no sign of gardening tools.

He sighed. His aunt was a clever woman with all the health and vigor of a woman half her age, but her mind was not always there. He loathed to see the impact age was taking on her.

“Very well.” Aunt Jean looped her arm through Reuben’s offered one. “Mrs. Brooks has made some lovely lavender biscuits. We grow our own lavender here, did you know?”

“Indeed,” Reuben murmured as he led her to the house. Regret tugged at his gut. It seemed she could not recall the days when he’d picked that same lavender and proudly brought bunches to his aunt to be displayed in one of her antique vases.

Stepping through a gate in the walled garden, he noted that despite his aunt’s meddling, the gardens were well-tended. Neatly trimmed lawns spanned the garden, stretching from wall to wall. Flowers of all colors edged the lawns and cut through them, dividing them into four quarters. At each corner sat a stone bench.

Once upon a time this garden had been used for entertaining, but with no children or a husband, his aunt’s days of hosting garden parties were behind her. He could almost picture visiting with his parents when he was a young boy and sitting on the lawns drinking lemonade while sneaking the occasional sip of ginger beer. His parents spent most of their time in Bath now to take the waters, and the majority of his aunt’s friends had either passed or were too old to partake in lengthy parties.

Despite her declining faculties, Aunt Jean walked at a fair pace, keeping up with Reuben’s own naturally lengthy strides with ease. Kinden House spread out in front of them, its two wings leading to a recess that housed the front door. Though one of the smaller stately homes in the Berkshire, it was no pauper’s house. His uncle had left Aunt Jean with a significant income, and the house was richly furnished with valuable works of art and antiques.

Unfortunately, it made his aunt quite the target for unscrupulous characters.

He handed over his hat to the butler and followed his aunt into her favored drawing room. A mix of sunny yellow and pale blue, the room was the smaller of the drawing rooms but more feminine and slightly cluttered with some of his aunt’s various collected items. Shells, fossils, and cracked bits of china were displayed on shelves and in the bureaus. Reuben waited until his aunt sat before sitting on the chair opposite.

“My new companion should be joining me in a few days.”

Reuben nodded. He’d been pleased when he heard the news that a companion would be joining her. He feared she got lonely, and as much as he’d like to visit more than once a week, his work kept him busy. A companion could also keep her out of mischief too. Hopefully this woman was someone plain and simple, someone who could handle the practicalities of living with a woman like his aunt.

“I imagine you are very much looking forward to it.”

“It does a woman good to be surrounded by youth you know.” She motioned to the serving girl to pour the tea then waved a hand to dismiss her.

“She is young?”

“Indeed.” His aunt nodded. “Early twenties, I believe.”

Well, he supposed that was not terrible. He was only just at the end of his twenties after all, and he had been sensible at thatage. Whoever this woman was, if she had taken up such a job, she had to be the practical sort.

He frowned to himself at the sound of commotion outside. Lowering the cup of tea in his hand, he rose to peer out of the window. He could spy one of the gardeners waving his arms frantically.

“Goodness, what is that racket?” his aunt asked.

“I shall go and find out.” Reuben strode out into the garden to see Mr. Higgins, the gardener waving his hands again. “What is the problem?”

He didn’t need to wait for Mr. Higgins’ response. He traced where the gardener was looking and bellowing and grimaced. One of the stallions had escaped and was proceeding to trample and chew his way through the garden.

“Bloody animal,” cursed Mr. Higgins.

Reuben shook his head. “If you shout at him like that, he will never come to you.”

“That animal is a menace!”

“I’ll see to him. Stand back.”

Reuben edged his way toward the animal, who gave a snort of derision at his proximity. He knew Black Knight well and had ridden him many times, but the horse was as changeable as the English weather. If he wasn’t in the mood, there was no chance of putting a saddle on him. Reuben’s uncle had hoped to tame him but had passed away before he’d had the chance. If he had more time, Reuben would train him himself.

“Easy.” Reuben held up his hands. “Easy, boy.” He moved closer, acutely aware of the height of the animal. He really was an impressive beast and knew full well he could get away with bad behavior. The creature was too damned smart.

Stepping sideways, he kept his hands up, avoiding looking the animal directly in the eyes. The horse shifted closer to hisaunt’s rose bushes. Reuben eyed the thorns and winced. If the horse got ensnared in those, he could do himself some damage.

Keeping his voice low and calm, Reuben kept talking to Black Knight, easing closer. The horse spared him a glance but no longer seemed bothered by his presence. He took his chance and inched even closer, laying a gentle hand on him.

“There we go,” he soothed. “Let’s not get near those thorns. You’ll do yourself some damage.”