It was awful.
She’d been so afraid of giving herself to him because she’d feared for her heart – for the suffering she would have to endure when she finally lost him. What truly stung was knowing she’d never really had him. He would always belong to another woman – the one he’d eventually marry.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Simon said once his plate had been filled. He stared at his food for a moment before he raised his gaze and looked straight at her, “and for the assumptions I made. It just never occurred to me that you didn’t know where I stood. Which seems foolish now, in retrospect.”
“You’re not the only one in the wrong.” She’d had time to think as well, to reflect over what she’d said. “I know enough about Society and what’s expected to realize you’d never consider marrying me.”
“Ida, I—”
“And that a woman would not give her innocence to a man unless she believed they had reached an understanding, albeit an unspoken one. As such, your assumption about me agreeing to be your mistress was not misplaced. If anything, it was wrong of me not to tell you I’d no intention of ever assuming such a position.”
He watched her for a long moment before he asked, “Were you serious earlier, about not wanting me back in your bed?”
The very idea of it caused her pulse to leap. She took a steadying breath. “It’s not that I do not want you, Simon, but rather that I shouldn’t. I refuse to share you, you see. And that means we’ll have to part ways at some point. Best then to get it over with quickly instead of drawing it out, wouldn’t you say?”
He ate in silence for a long time before saying, “We have nothing planned tomorrow, so let’s take the day for ourselves. There’s something I’d like to show you.”
Exhausted by the emotional day she’d had, she shook her head. “Simon…”
“Please, Ida. Indulge me. It would mean a great deal.”
Unwilling to quarrel with him any further, she forced a smile and nodded. “All right.”
“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left London,” Simon said as they rolled along a country road the next day. “Everything all right?”
“Oh yes,” she lied, her heart heavy with the promise of loss. Although much of yesterday’s turmoil had been put to rest and they’d somehow managed to reacquire a sense of camaraderie, their relationship was now missing its luster. She shoved another piece of shortbread into her mouth and chewed to hide her unhappiness. “I’ve just been enjoying the tasty meal you provided.”
He’d bought two small chicken pies – one for each – along with some shortbread and blueberry tarts. Everything had been fresh out of the oven and utterly delicious.
“I’m glad to hear it. Now you’d best finish up. We’re almost there.”
There turned out to be a large property consisting of a grandiose manor house, a collection of stables, and several fenced riding rings. Ida’s stomach contracted just looking at it. The fall she’d taken as a child when her father had wanted to teach her how to ride came back to her with a jolt. Her arms and legs stiffened. “I hope you’re not planning to get me onto a horse.”
Without answering, Simon climbed down from the carriage and offered his hand to help her alight. She took a deep breath and slowly expelled it while letting him guide her onto solid ground.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “So impressively brave.”
A squeaky sound left her throat. She didn’t feel the least bit brave at the moment. Indeed, she wanted nothing more than to turn and run. Compared with the idea of riding, everything else she’d recently been through - falling down a flight of stairs, facing Carlton Guthrie, helping Simon ward off a man who wanted her dead, and taking on a peer of the realm - were all simple tasks with little cause for concern.
But this…
She shuddered and fought the urge to dig in her heels while Simon led her toward the first stall. “Could we not have gone rowing instead? Or maybe visited Kew Gardens? I’ve heard such wonderful things about it, and there could still be time for us to—”
“Ida.” Simon had turned and planted both hands on her shoulders. Head bowed, he gazed into her upturned face. “I realize you had a bad experience once, but you don’t strike me as the sort of woman who would let one bad ride prevent her from all the good ones lying ahead.”
She broke eye contact with him and looked toward one of the stalls. A horse hung its head over the gate and was glancing in their direction. “I was thrown, my arm dislocated and my hip severely bruised, Simon. I don’t want to go through that again.”
“I promise to make sure nothing bad happens to you.” She’d never seen him look quite so serious. There was something almost desperate about it, a powerful emotion she couldn’t quite place, though it did make her heart beat faster. And then he said the one thing that was sure to gain her cooperation. “Please trust me.”
She nodded, because this was Simon and even if things would never again be as they’d once been between them, he was her friend. She wanted to push aside all her fears for his sake and prove herself able. At this moment, she wanted his happiness more than she wanted her own, the love she felt for him so overwhelming she’d get on the blasted animal and do her best to look as though she enjoyed it.
His smile and the grin that followed was all the reward she needed, and knowing he was there, determined to protect her, made the endeavor easier. In fact, once they’d selected a horse Simon claimed to be older and calmer than the rest and he’d helped her mount, she had to admit that it wasn’t as bad as she recalled.
For one thing, she was a grown woman now, which made the horse seem smaller and less threatening. And then there was the fact that someone concerned for her safety was holding onto the reins while the young, careless boy who’d taken her out for her first ride all those years ago had thought to quicken the horse’s pace with a whip. It hadn’t mattered that he’d been holding a tether. He hadn’t had the strength to restrain the animal once it bolted, and Ida had only been able to scream while holding onto dear life. Until she finally fell.
“How does it feel?” Simon asked while walking her in a wide circle around the ring.
“It’s not terrible.”
