A COURTSHIP BEGINS
Later that day
After a brief search of his wardrobe, David found a tweed riding jacket and breeches that still fit. A short struggle with Elkins’ assistance ensued before he managed to force his feet into a pair of Hessians. Standing before the cheval mirror in his bedchamber, he decided he was as ready as he would ever be for his first day of courting Lady Rose.
The sun was shining brightly when David entered the mews behind Bostwick House. A chestnut gelding whinnied softly as a groom hoisted a saddle onto him.
“Afternoon, Thompson,” he said as he stood before the horse.
“Good to see you back, sir,” the groom replied, barely pausing as he secured the leather straps of the saddle.
“Good to be back,” David commented. “I don’t recognize him,” he added as he regarded the horse, the white blaze in the center of its forehead a common feature among the race horses that had been bred at the Bostwick property in Sussex. He was larger, too, his muscular frame suggesting he hadn’t been bred for the racecourse.
“This would be Ares, sir. Your father’s riding horse. He suggested I saddle ’im for you seein’ as how yours is out to pasture down south.”
David winced, realizing his absence from London had meant his regular ride would have lacked attention and exercise. “Ares,” he said. “Are you up for a ride in the park?”
A series of nickers suggested the horse looked forward to the outing.
“I’ll be gone a long while, I expect,” David said as he mounted the gelding. “If I don’t return before the parade in Rotten Row, then it’s because I’ve gone directly there from my appointment.”
“Very good, sir.”
David tested Ares as they departed the mews, keeping the horse moving at a comfortable canter until they were out in Park Lane. Then he gave him the rein as they headed north toward Ariley Place.
He found a groom holding the reins of an Irish Walker in front of the large Georgian townhouse. “Would that be Lady Rose’s mount?” David called out as he approached.
“Indeed, sir,” the servant replied at the same moment the front door opened to reveal the reason for David’s presence.
“Your punctuality is to be commended,” Rose said as he dismounted and hurried to take her hand to his lips.
“As is yours, my lady,” he replied. She was dressed in a bright blue riding habit of wool. The fitted bodice, decorated with black frog enclosures and a small collar, reminded him of the night before, when he had held her waist in his hands as he kissed her. “How are you on this fine day?” After he kissed the back of her kid-gloved hand, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
Rose inhaled softly, her gaze dropping to regard his riding clothes with appreciation. She dipped a curtsy. “I will admit I wished I might have been able to sleep another hour or so,” she replied as she made her way to her horse. “But the sun is good to see.”
“Was your family the last to leave the ball?” he asked. Although the groom would have bent and interlocked his hands so she could more easily mount the sidesaddle, David waved him off. He placed his hands at her waist and easily lifted her onto the saddle, ignoring her gasp of surprise.
He couldn’t help the odd annoyance he felt when he imagined her dancing with other young bucks after he had taken his leave of Weatherstone Manor. The walk home had been necessary, though. The cool night air helped tamp down his ardor. Once he’d had a taste of her in the gardens, the supper foods hadn’t satiated his appetite for her one bit. He knew if he stayed, he would suffer worse.
Hooking her leg around the pommel while David ensured her booted foot was in the stirrup, Rose watched as he easily mounted his much larger gelding. “We were not the last to leave,” she replied, “but I could not help but notice your departure. Did something happen?”
David gave a start, which had his horse heading for the street. “It is more what might have happened if I hadn’t left when I did,” he replied, his brows furrowing when he noticed the groom didn’t have a mount. Rose’s walker had already moved alongside his.
About to ask what he meant, Rose looked back to follow his gaze. “Father informed me I didn’t require a chaperone when I am with you.”
His eyes rounding, David gave a shrug. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment of my honor?” he asked. Given what he would have liked to do with her at the ball the night before, he didn’t feel as if he had earned the duke’s trust.
“He likes you, David. He always has,” she replied.
“And you?”
Despite the bright sunlight, the color in Rose’s cheeks visibly reddened. “I have known you since we were children,” she reminded him. “So... yes.”
Grinning, David decided to save the rest of his topics of conversation until after they were well into Hyde Park. They entered through Cumberland Gate at the northeast corner, the sound of hooves on the trail mixed with the rustling of leaves and birds chirping in the trees.
David led the way when the path wasn’t wide enough for both horses, maneuvering confidently around other riders and pedestrians while Rose followed closely behind on her gray mare.
As they rode, they talked about the ball, enjoying the freedom of the open space and the beauty of the park. They stopped and dismounted to let their horses graze on the lush grass. In the distance, Kensington Palace provided a stunning view.
