“I can relate to that. I quite enjoy getting lost in the middle of nowhere.”
Summer whinnied her agreement, and Peter and I laughed.
I took a deep breath of grass and earth and wind.
“What a lovely view,” Peter observed, expressing my very thought. His appreciation for nature, the way his eyes soaked up the scene before us, enticed me to relax and enjoy it as well. The afternoon was too good to waste on thoughts of my future. I would push all thoughts of Mr. Pendleton and Lord Gray out of my mind. Here, now, I would live in the present.
Unbelievably, Grace rode calm and neutral under Peter’s hand; even Mr. Beckett registered shock at the miracle as he followed behind us as chaperone.
Peter and I rode along the west pasture where green grass and weeds with tiny yellow and purple flowers painted the scene. The earth sank beneath the horse’s hooves, the ground still damp and muddy from the storm. I caught my breath at the beauty of the sky above the open fields. The clear blue vastness opened my chest, liberating my heart from the constricting weight of my circumstances. Oh, to be as free as the wind, as limitless as the sky, as luxurious as the sun! I felt so complete in the open pasture beyond Sir Ronald’s estate, and I never wanted it to end.
Peter swerved right, nearly knocking into Summer and me.
“Whoa, girl,” he said to Grace, pulling back on the reins. “Don’t turn on me now.”
A tinge of anxiety pinched my brow. We’d only been riding for a quarter hour. How long would Grace last? “Perhaps she is bored. Shall we try it at a run?” I asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Peter gave Grace her head, glancing nervously at Summer, who, to my great surprise, bolted right after her.
The wind rushed past me with Summer in full gallop, and I imagined at any moment the breeze would lift me up and carry me away. The further we escaped, the greener the landscape became. Suddenly, I understood Peter’s earlier sentiment of being lost in the middle of nowhere.
Slowing, I dropped Summer’s reins and reached toward the clouds. Out here, nothing mattered. Out here, I was free. Peter slowed beside me, and I hugged Summer’s neck, my cheeks warm with a new energy pulsing through my veins.
Peter stared at me, a strange hitch in his own breath, as if air had been caught in his lungs.
“What is it?” I sat up, searching his brightened eyes.
“You.” He locked his eyes on mine. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Amelia Moore.” Sincerity laced his words, and a tingling spread within my chest.
I nervously patted Summer’s mane. Peter could not mean to compliment me so greatly. My emotions of late must be exaggerating his words. “What are you after with such flattery, Peter Wood?”
His smile broke free. “What might it earn me?”
“Nothing but trouble, I am sure.”
“Perfect. As long as it involves you.”
I flashed him a feigned scowl, nerves fluttering wildly in my stomach. We needed a new subject, and quick.
“Is this not a perfect day?” Peter asked, as if he knew my thoughts.
“In every way.” I turned my face to the sky. “I love the way the grass smells, and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. And the birds flying freely, soaring even. Brighton is an entirely different environment.”
“But do you not love the ocean? It is vast and mysterious, much more so than the farmlands here.”
“The ocean is the only part of Brighton I do like. But it is just another place I cannot explore. I don’t want to merely imagine what it might feel like to have a wave wash over me. I want to jump in. Here, at least, I can roam wherever I please, and experience all the beauty right at my fingertips.”
“I see.” A smile touched his eyes. “I am pleased to hear it.”
At that moment, Grace leaped into a run, bucking wildly and running far off our grassy path and into the sludge of mud in the middle of the pasture.
Time stopped as I watched Peter pulling feverishly at the reins, tightening his grip and trying to recover his hold.
“Grace!” I yelled, following as close as I dared with Summer. “It’s all right, girl! Grace!”
Peter steadied her for a split second, just long enough to jump down into the mud, boots slopping noisily. He slapped Grace on the rump, and she took off at a run. “She will have to find her own way home.” After feeling through his pockets for something, he frowned. “Blast. I’ve lost my fob watch.”
I stopped beside him and started to dismount. “What does it look like?”
