Chapter Three
Kitty watched the green countryside move past the window of Lady Sampson’s carriage.
They had left London the previous day and spent a night in a well-appointed inn before continuing on to Lord Sampson’s estate, Arbor Hill.
As they traveled south, the settlements became further and further apart, and the landscape transformed from relatively flat to rolling hills. It was lovely.
When Lady Sampson had commented that Kitty needed to get out of London, she’d thought it a jest. Or at least an idle comment.
And then the invitation arrived two days later.
Lady Sampson planned to spend a fortnight at one of her estates in order to address some business with her housekeeper and check in on the tenants.
Lord Sampson could not leave parliament, and she preferred to travel with a companion.
Kitty was unsure if the trip was truly necessary, or if Lady Sampson had manufactured an excuse. But she felt nothing but gratitude. A fortnight away from London sounded like paradise itself.
Mrs. Childs had been rather miffed at not being included in the invitation. However, she’d acquiesced after Kitty framed the excursion as an opportunity to build stronger connections with a baroness with two unattached stepsons and a nephew. Her own sons were, of course, already married.
Not that Kitty had any intention of pursuing anyone, connected to Lady Sampson or not. But it proved the perfect argument for her status-obsessed mother. And so less than a sennight after her introduction to Mr. Hicks, she found herself in a carriage in the wilds of Hampshire.
“What do you think?” Lady Sampson’s voice sounded from beside her.
Kitty turned her attention away from the window and back to her traveling companion. “This is a beautiful part of the country.”
The baroness nodded. “We spend less time here than I would like, but I do love Whickfield.”
“Whickfield?” Kitty tipped her head. “Is your estate not called Arbor Hill?”
The baroness let out a soft laugh. “Whickfield is the small village where Arbor Hill is located. It is a delightful little place, surrounded by one of my favorite neighborhoods in all of England.”
As they spoke, the carriage turned from the main road onto a less-maintained path and slowed its speed. A short time later, they drove past a small village before their conveyance pulled to a stop in front of a fine house with a large portico.
“Arbor Hill,” Lady Sampson commented with a contented sigh before the carriage door opened.
Kitty followed her hostess out onto the gravel drive.
It felt wonderful to stand up straight and stretch her legs.
She turned in a slow circle, taking in the surrounding view.
Everything was verdant green, and the house, while not overly large, appeared finally situated.
She took a deep breath and smelled the country air.
Fresh and clean. There were things about London she enjoyed, and things she did not.
The very top of the list of dislikes included the London air that could positively be chewed on heavier days.
She took another breath. This was not Lincolnshire, but it would do.
Movement caught her eye, and she turned just in time to watch a tall figure with dark hair round the corner of the house and approach the carriage.
“Mr. Linfield!” Kitty’s hand flew up to her chest.
“Good afternoon.” The gentleman dropped into an overly exaggerated bow before popping back up. “It is so nice to see you. Have we met?”
“In London…” Kitty stuttered, confused. “Your aunt?” She thought about her unexpected meeting and later introduction to Oliver Linfield with more frequency than she cared to admit. To realize he did not even remember her felt, well, lowering.
A playful grin spread across the man’s handsome face. Completely different from the bland expression he’d worn during their introduction. “Ah, I suspect there has been some confusion. I have a brother who some people say favors me somewhat. Though I’ve never seen it.”
“Stop teasing her, Mr. Timothy,” Lady Sampson chided in a tone that held only affection. “You know full well that you have an identical twin, and most of the county cannot tell you apart.”
After a moment, the baroness’s words sank in. Mr. Timothy? Identical twins? This was not Oliver Linfield. That truth felt almost unbelievable as Kitty watched the familiar, yet unfamiliar, young man turn his attention to Lady Sampson.
“Welcome, my lady.” He bowed again, though not quite as theatrically. “I hope you had a pleasant journey.”
“I did, thank you.” Lady Sampson then turned to Kitty. “Miss Childs, may I present Mr. Timothy Linfield? Mr. Timothy is our local vicar, though that information still baffles me somewhat. Before choosing to join the church, he was best known in the neighborhood for causing mischief.”
“Now Lady Sampson, you pain me,” the vicar paused for a half-breath before adding, “I believe I’m still best known for causing mischief.”
The unexpected comment caused Kitty to burst into laughter before clapping a hand over her own mouth at her unladylike outburst. Instead of censure, both her hostess and the vicar laughed right along with her.
With a broad smile on her face, Lady Sampson turned back to Kitty. “There was hope that his recent marriage would curb his more mischievous tendencies. But alas, I think our dear Arabella actually encourages his nonsense.”
“That she does,” Mr. Timothy Linfield agreed, his face taking the look of a clearly besotted newlywed. After a moment, it cleared, and he turned back to Kitty. “If I understand correctly, my aunt, Lady Fulbourn, introduced you to my twin while he was recently in London?”
Kitty had heard of identical twins, but she was not sure that she’d ever met a pair.
The resemblance between Mr. Oliver Linfield and his brother was uncanny.
The vicar’s dark waves were untamed, unlike his brother’s fashionable hair.
But otherwise, the man in front of her appeared identical to the one in her memory.
She could have sworn she was talking to the same man. And yet, she wasn’t.
“Yes. I attended a musical evening at Fulbourn House,” Kitty confirmed.
The vicar nodded. “Oliver mentioned the evening in passing, though I will have to chastise him for not mentioning being introduced to a single person.”
“Come now, Tim. You should just be pleased that Oliver attended the event at all,” Lady Sampson replied, a note of teasing in her voice.
“True,” Mr. Timothy Linfield replied with an overly solemn nod.
“Would you like to join us for tea?” Lady Sampson addressed the gentleman. “My housekeeper has standing orders to start a pot as soon as my carriage pulls into the drive, so it should be ready shortly.”
“Perhaps another time, but I am already overdue at the vicarage,” he responded. “I saw your carriage and wanted to welcome you.”
“I’m glad you did,” Lady Sampson gave him a motherly smile. “Please give my greetings to Arabella.”
“I will.” He turned to Kitty. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Childs, and I hope to have the chance to introduce you to my wife while you are in the neighborhood.”
“I would like that,” Kitty agreed. And she would. She was quite curious about a wife who both inspired such devotion and encouraged mischief.
The unconventional vicar disappeared back around the corner of the house as Kitty followed her hostess through the front door. They soon found themselves in a sitting room, where a few sandwiches and a pot of tea were already waiting.
Once they were situated with teacups in hand, Kitty spoke. “Mr. Timothy Linfield appears to be…” she considered her words, “an energetic vicar.”
Lady Sampson laughed. “I think most would choose the word ‘impish.’” She took a sip of tea before continuing. “It is likely for the best that my sons have never spent much time in Hampshire. They got into enough trouble without the help of the Linfield twins.”
The twins? Oliver Linfield did not strike her as the impish type. But then again, he had tried to hide behind a pot during a social event. So perhaps she was wrong.
“If Mr. Timothy grew up in the neighborhood, does that mean that the Linfield estate is nearby?” Kitty did her best to sound as though she were merely making polite conversation.
In truth, she was dying to know. What were the odds that she’d escaped London just to find herself in company with the penniless nephew of an earl?
Her mother would be ecstatic, not that she intended to inform her.
“Blackthorne Park is not our nearest neighbor, but not far off. The estate sits just on the other side of the village.” Lady Sampson set a half-eaten cucumber sandwich on her plate. “I did not realize you were acquainted with Oliver, or I would have mentioned that he lived in the neighborhood.”
“I’m not.” Kitty cleared her throat. “Not really. We’ve been introduced, but I have not seen him since. He might not even remember me.” That was unlikely given their original encounter, but that was not a story she intended to share with anyone.
Lady Sampson’s eyes narrowed as she watched Kitty. “We will have to see when he comes to dine tomorrow.”
“Oliver Linfield is dining here? Tomorrow?”
“Along with a few other neighbors,” the baroness confirmed. “Nothing lavish, just an opportunity to catch up with some old friends.” She paused for a moment and then added, “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. Why would it be?” Kitty did her best to hide the strain in her voice.
“An excellent question,” Lady Sampson noted before rising from her seat.
Oliver stepped out of the carriage and looked up at Arbor Hill before turning to offer a hand to his mother.
Lord and Lady Sampson had not been in residence since Tim and Arabella’s wedding the previous summer.
And rarely in the few years before that.
Oliver remembered his parents dining at Arbor Hill before he was old enough to join them.
But he could count on one hand the number of times he’d dined at the estate.