Blushing slightly, Ariadne replied. “Lord Stromwell offered to teach me how to ride, and I said yes.”
“Your dress is utterly unsuitable for such a thing,” Cedric said with finality. “You need to have riding habits made.”
Crushed, Ariadne sighed, “I suppose next time then.”
“Oh, for god’s sake, you can let her take a few turns around the paddock,” Silas sounded exasperated. “If you want to be a barbarian and lift her into the saddle yourself.”
“They created mounting blocks for that purpose.” Cedric’s tone did not lose its sharp edge. “Fetch me one.”
Silas shook his head. “God knows why I do these things for you.”
As he went off, Cedric pinned her with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Care to explain what you’re doing?”
Shaded by the brim of her straw bonnet, her greenish blue eyes were so huge and clear that Cedric could see himself reflected in them, and he didn’t like what he saw. More to the point, he didn’t like what he felt. Could he be jealous of his friend and a little bit of stocking?
The idea was laughable. Absurd. There was no way in hell he felt threatened by Silas. He told himself that he just didn’t like the fact that she had been exposed to all and sundry.
Four inches of stocking is not exposed.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” she said.
Her answer, the nervous way she wetted her lips, did not improve his disposition. “Lord Stromwell only offered for me to do something I have never tried before—” A notch formed between her brows as her gaze flittered between his eyes. “You can’t possibly be jealous… of-of Lord Stromwell. Are you?”
Wrong bloody thing to say.
Chapter Sixteen
“It is improper of you to let another man touch you that way.” Cedric’s voice rumbled from the middle of his chest.
Lord Stromwell huffed as he plunked a mounting block at Cedric’s feet. “There you go, you taskmaster.”
“Step up,” Cedric replied.
Wordlessly, she obeyed, and he grasped her waist with a firm grip and unceremoniously placed her on the saddle. He gave her instructions on where to put her feet so she could sit sidesaddle.
“This feels… odd,” she said.
“You’ll grow into it,” he said. “I’ll have a trainer teach you from here on. Tomorrow, you’ll find a modiste and order riding habits.”
“I suppose I can ask Clara,” Ariadne said, then shot him a look. “Lady Hamden.”
“I know who she is,” he took the lead and began to walk the horse around the paddock.
Gasping, Ariadne began to rock with the horse’s gait, but she did not grasp the reins in fear. After walking around the paddock once, Cedric looked over at Ariadne. “Do you think you can walk on your own?”
She nodded, “Just tell me what to do.”
He gave her simple instructions on how to use her feet, the reins, and the crop to spur the horse into walking, and he stepped aside as she took the first few steps.
She still swayed, and his body was poised to dart forward in case she did tumble over—but she never did. A quiet pride was born in his chest when he realized she was holding her own.
“Do you feel like a heel yet?” Silas asked from beside him.
He grunted.
“Use your words, barbarian.”
Slanting his friend a look, Cedric said, “I apologize for attacking you.”
