Marcus frowned again.“Did you not make it clear that he can remain here?”
“I did, sir.I told him there was a room in the attic for his use, with a bed and blankets, and hooks to hang his clothing and so on.I even showed it to him, but it seems he wants none of it.”
Marcus considered that.“Some wild creatures do not take readily to being tamed.Perhaps the boy would prefer to sleep in the stables.”
“As to that, I could not say, m’lord, but I will offer him the choice.”The butler hesitated, then added, “He’s not a bad lad, m’lord.He’s clever, respectful and diligent.I even gave him some silver to polish and not a single item went missing, not so much as a teaspoon.It’s just his insistence on returning to the streets in his rags that’s the problem.”
“Ah well, give him time,” Marcus said.“Now, be so good as to inform Lady Hewitt of my arrival—ah, no need.Here she comes now.”
#
TESSA CAME SKIPPINGdown the stairs, the long skirt of the riding habit hooked over one arm.Bragge, Lady Gosforth’s maid, had found the habit in a trunk in the attic, and with needle and thread had made a few hasty adjustments to make it fit.More or less.Tessa didn’t care what she looked like, she was just so eager to go for a ride again.It had been years.
She resolved to take every opportunity to ride while she could.Once she was a companion, she doubted very much that anyone would allow her to ride, even if there were a horse available.
Lord Alverleigh waited out the front with a magnificent black gelding and a beautiful bay mare wearing a sidesaddle.A groom waited with a third horse: some kind of chaperon she assumed.
“Oh, she’s beautiful,” Tessa exclaimed.She fed the mare a piece of carrot filched from the kitchen and murmured endearments to her.“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Lord Alverleigh.I cannot tell you how much I have missed the freedom of riding.”
He nodded.“It won’t be like the freedom you used to have at Ferndale, I’m afraid.Mostly in London we just walk the horses and occasionally trot, but it will be better than nothing.”He joined his hands and boosted her into the saddle.She arranged her skirts while he adjusted the straps.
Glancing down she saw his nose wrinkle.He took a few surreptitious sniffs.“Something wrong?”she asked.
“No, it’s just ...”He looked around as if for inspiration.“What is that smell?”
She knew at once what it was.“It’s my new perfume,” she said solemnly.“Do you like it?”
His expression as he searched for something polite to say, made her laugh aloud.“No, I’m teasing you.Your aunt’s habit was stored in an oriental camphor-wood chest, along with sachets of lavender, rosemary, mint and who knows what else—all to deter moths.Each scent is perfectly pleasant on its own, but the combination is admittedly peculiar.But I’m pleased to report we found no depredations by moths, so clearly it was effective.”
His gray eyes glinted with appreciation.“Delighted to hear it.”He mounted his horse and they rode off, the groom following.
When they reached the entrance to Hyde Park, she saw that despite the late hour there were still plenty of fashionably dressed people promenading.Men on horseback, too, as well as people in elegant vehicles of all kinds.Any one of them might know Edgar and tell him in whose company she’d been seen.
And then there would be trouble.
She reined in her horse.
“Something wrong?”
She hesitated.“I didn’t expect to see so many people.Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea after all.”She scanned the clusters of people moving slowly along.No sign of Edgar, but who knew who else might see her?
Marcus must have noticed.“Don’t like crowds?Then we’ll avoid them.”He turned his horse away from the crowd and led her down another path toward a much less populated area.As the green space opened up and the crowds fell behind them, Tessa should have felt more relaxed: instead, she was oddly restless.
Mostly we just walk the horses and occasionally trot, but it will be better than nothing.
But it was not better than nothing.It was infinitely worse.He didn’t understand.It was like offering a starving person a dry rusk when there was a feast at hand.
There was nobody ahead, no pedestrians, nobody on horseback.Who knew when she would get the chance to ride again?
She glanced at Lord Alverleigh, and when his attention was elsewhere, she urged her mare into a canter.Hearing Lord Alverleigh’s mount coming up behind her she glanced back, then urged her mare to a gallop.He increased his pace.He called out something, but she couldn’t make out what.It didn’t matter anyway.She just wanted to ride.And ride.And ride.
Oh, but it was glorious, the fresh air, the speed, the scent of the grass, the damp earth, the warm horse.And most of all, the freedom just to ride.And ride.
Lord Alverleigh’s horse was coming up behind her, but he said nothing, made no move to stop her.She pulled off her hat to feel the wind in her hair.For two pins she’d toss the hat away, but it was Lady Gosforth’s so she couldn’t.She pulled out her hairpins and shook her long hair free, laughing and she was almost fifteen again, carefree and happy.
#
MARCUS STARED AT HERoff and galloping, a wild, untamed creature, her glorious hair streaming behind her as if she were riding the wind, like some equine goddess of old.Had he ever seen her like this, graceful and laughing, full of unfettered joy?
