Impossible.
And yet here she was, sitting up beside him on top of a high-flying curricle. He eased the tension upon the reins and the pair increased their speed.
She clutched his arm tighter.
She’d not acknowledge his statement, he knew. She’d keep some of that respectability tightly wrapped around herself.
But she could enjoy the speed, the wind, the freedom of riding along an open road in a well-sprung vehicle. After less than a mile, he eased the horses back to a brisk walk. A curve turned the road just up ahead, and he’d never put her in any real danger. He’d not intended to scare her, just to shake a few cobwebs loose.
Was she smiling now? Did the hints of her earlier laughter dance upon those lips? He couldn’t help stealing a glimpse of her beside him.
Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed pink. Why was it that society placed such value upon youth? To see a lady such as her, a lady who has known the full spectrum of life, thrill at something so mundane as racing along the road… He had to swallow hard to clear himself of whatever strange emotion lurked within him.
“I’d hazard a guess you’ve never traveled so fast.” He teased.
She shook her head beside him. “You’ll be the death of us both.” But the joviality remained in her voice. She wasn’t thinking of the deaths she’d experienced in her life.
“Ye of little faith, Duchess.” He held the reins with one hand for only a moment so that he could reassure her with his other. She was clutching his arm with both her hands now. He patted them and then secured the reins again. “You’ve nothing to worry over.”
She sat up straight beside him, presumably remembering all the things she thought to find distressing. Did she feel guilty for her laughter? For enjoyment?
He wished she’d talk to him more. But for her damnable dignity. She’d likely reminded herself who he was.
The dizzinessthat engulfed her was more inside her head than her body. She’d loved the sensation of speeding along the road, relished the breeze caressing, and then whipping past her face.
Who was she?
And she’d laughed at him. At his silly notion of alleviating his daughter’s worries with the purchase of an estate. Did he not understand that the women at home always fretted over the safety of their loved ones?
And yet he’d told her not to worry.
In that moment, she wished she could talk with him. She wished she could talk to anyone about the constant fear burning a hole inside her heart.
But she could not. Of course, she could not! She couldn’t tell a soul. She could barely articulate the words enough to contemplate them in her own thoughts.
“Everyone has something to worry about,” she said instead. He could laugh and then race his horses along the road as though the only moment that mattered was now.
“Of course, we do. That’s why we need to set our concerns aside. Put them in their place from time to time.”
She shook her head at his foolishness.
“You don’t think I worry, Duchess?” His tone had lost some of the humor he’d had for most of the ride.
Of course, he worried. She hadn’t meant to imply any such thing. But his affairs were so very different. He wouldn’t understand.
“You have your business to contend with, I imagine.”
And then the curricle jerked as he pulled to the side of the road, bringing their mad dash to an almost startling halt.
When he shifted on the seat to meet her gaze, his expression had turned serious.
“I’ve a daughter. One who has experienced the bitter rejection of most of society, despite her status as a countess. I have a grandson, one who stands to inherit an Earldom, despite the blood of a laborer flowing through his veins. And yes, I have my business. Hundreds of men, families, depending upon its success for their livelihood. Would you say I ought to mull over it constantly? Much as I have my entire life? Is there never to be a time to simply enjoy? If I do not grasp it now, then when? I’m no longer a young man, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“You might be older than me, but for a man that means nothing.” His argument tore some unknown anguish out of her. “A woman…” She started and turned to stare across the field. “A woman such as me is already past her prime. What is she to do with her life if she isn’t a mother? Or a grandmother? When all she has left to do is wait to die?”
God, she sounded so maudlin. She ought to be whipped for expressing such thoughts.
“For God’s sake, woman, what in perdition goes on in that noble head of yours?” And then he reached up and turned her chin so that she was forced to meet his gaze.
