“Don't they have any horses at that school where you teach?”
Felicity accepted a leg up and settled herself atop Charlie who seemed as tall as the manor house balcony. “No. It is not a rich enough school.”
Besides, she had never had enough extra time to learn even if they had had horses. Or a riding instructor. If she had, she might have already known that fear can sometimes be exhilarating.
“Your posts before?”
She patted Charlie's neck and settled reins and crop. “I was not in a position to learn to ride there.”
She had been invited. But the price for a few minutes' canter would have come far too high.
Lord Flint vaulted into his saddle with effortless grace and settled the great animal with a few soft words and a gathering of reins.
“Galahad,” he said.
Felicity looked up, surprised. “Pardon?”
He actually looked uncomfortable. “Galahad. The horse's name.”
This time Felicity thought she might have gaped. “Why, Lord Flint,” she accused. “You are a romantic!”
He huffed impatiently. “Don't be absurd. That was his name when I bought him.”
Out of the corner of her eye Felicity caught a passing expression on Billy Burke's face that made her think she was being lied to. She might have challenged Lord Flint on his statement if she hadn't thought she would put him in such a snit that he would cancel the ride.
“Lord Flint...”
“Bracken,” he barked, guiding his horse to her side. “You don't have to Lord Flint me all the time. My last name is perfectly acceptable.”
Felicity tilted her head a bit. “So, my choice is between an incendiary rock or a prickly weed. I don't suppose there are any other names to choose from. Otter, Fieldstone, Toadstool?”
His scowl, she admitted, was magnificent. It only increased when Billy Burke let out a huffing laugh.
“How do you ever keep a position with a tart mouth like that?” Flint demanded.
She gave him her brightest smile, buoyant with the realization that she never had felt secure enough anywhere to be herself. Anywhere but with Pip. And, evidently, here.
“I never waste my smart mouth on employers. Only fictitious fiancés.”
It was Flint's turn to huff. “Just my luck.”
Without another word, he wheeled Galahad about and set him off down the lane. Felicity had the feeling it was his way of maintaining the upper hand. She didn't mind, at least for the moment. She got to be on a horse out in the fresh air. Nothing else mattered. With a final smile at the laughing stablemaster, she turned after Flint.
Oh, dear. He was galloping off as if she would follow. She had barely gotten past a posting trot in her lessons. And Charlie was pulling on the reins to follow the much larger horse.
Suddenly Billy let out a shrill whistle. Flint pulled Galahad up to a gravel-scrunching stop and turned back.
“Oh!” he called. “Sorry.”
Felicity had the feeling that he didn't mean it, but she quite understood. The morning was brisk with an early autumn breeze, the plane trees that lined the drive just beginning to yellow in a weak sun. She wished she could just gallop off after him.
Settling the gelding to a trot to catch up, Felicity drew in a great lungful of air, savoring the mingled scents of grass and leaf mold and country. It had been one of the benefits of this last six days, reacquainting herself with the rhythms and simplicity of the countryside. No matter what else happened in her life, the countryside soothed her.
She had hoped to go out on her own this morning, too, give herself some distance in which to contemplate what was going on. A nice quiet ride with Mr. Burke to clear her head. Instead she was following Lord Flint from the yard and wondering what he had in mind.
Fortunately, he must have felt the same way she did.
“Would you like to try a canter?” he asked as she pulled up, Charlie slowing after him like a gentleman.
