“I don’t—” Reese glanced over at the head groom, an older man who wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I think it was another faerie thing.”
“Are you injured?” Ellen asked, breathless from her near-run. She scanned Reese’s body as though looking for blood.
“No, I’m . . . Jem, uh, Mr. Taylor saved me.” She shot the groom a quick glance and mouthedthank you. The corners of his mouth quirked up, and he put a finger to his cap.
“Oh, Mr. Taylor,” Ellen clutched her hands to her chest, “your rescue was magnificent.”
“Why, thank you, my lady.” He bowed. “How are you? I thought you were returning home this morning.”
“The weather is lovely,” she said. “I couldn’t bear to be cooped inside the carriage. I thought to ride home instead.”
She looked amazing in a dark turquoise blue habit. Her matching hat had a big white feather coming off it. On a different woman, the outfit might have looked ridiculous, but Ellen had a way of holding herself that . . . Reese searched her mind for the right word and could only come up withclassy. The idea of this girl being the hostess at a political party where she graciously talked with power brokers seemed to fit for the first time.
“I didn’t realize you lived so close,” Reese said.
“Yes,” Ellen said, “my brother’s lands border Aunt Nellie’s, and there is good road between. I often ride over to visit when the weather permits.”
“Would you like us to accompany you part of the way?” Jem asked.
“I would enjoy that.” The girl’s cheeks had gone pink, her face lighting up with pleasure. “We will become better acquainted.”
“Maybe you can show my cousin how to mount in a dress,” he said.
“Hey, I know how to mount just fine,” Reese said, indignant.
“Not in a habit, you don’t. Please don’t try it like that again. You scared ten years off my life.” Jem’s sincere expression took the sting out of the insult.
“It is not difficult once one knows the way of it.” Ellen turned to the head groom who Reese thought had been the one to work the magic. “Walter, is my horse prepared?”
“Billy is bringing her now, my lady.” A boy of about twelve years led a lovely bay-colored mare toward them.
“What a beauty,” Jem said.
“She is quite docile.” Ellen gave a fond smile. “My brother is very protective of me.”
Reese blinked, not sure what to think of this brother. He let Sir Slimy hang around, but then refused to let the guy pay his addresses until Ellen was of age. Interesting way to be protective.
“Are you okay with that?” Reese asked.
“I do not understand,” Ellen said.
“People who are protective tend to be bossy and controlling,” Reese said.
“And that wouldn’t resemble anyone here, would it?” Jem winked at her.
Reese glared at him but looked at Ellen with arched brows.
“You judge my brother too harshly. I own he can be both bossy and controlling, but he has responsibility for me and feels it keenly.” She pointed her gloved hand at the horses. “I will demonstrate how to mount a sidesaddle.”
Ellen approached her bay, where Walter waited for her. He bent, his hands cupped. She put a dainty foot in them, somehow managing not to flash, and he lifted her. With a smooth motion, she seated herself on the saddle while swinging her right leg over the top pommel and nestling her left leg against the bottom one. She had smoothed out her skirt to cover her boots almost before Reese had seen anything.
“If there were an Olympic medal for that,” Reese said softly to Jem, “she’d have just taken the gold.”
“Think you can do it?” he asked.
Reese heaved out a breath. “If you promise not to toss me over the horse.”
“I promise.” He grinned.
